"Going to pack your things already?" Sebastian stared straight at me.

"I'm not one of the Omegas that are going with you," I said keeping my tone normal.

"But you are an Omega, aren't you?" he raised his dark brown eyebrow.

I opened my mouth to say something, but Alpha bated me to it. "Sebastian, you should pick someone a little more... Obedient."

He looked at me as if I was a bug under his shoes. "Elizabeth always has had a problem with discipline," he continued.

A moment later, my chin was caught by a callous thumb and finger,  and my face was jerked up. Sebastian looked over my face and turned it to one side, then the other. As if observing whether or not the product he wanted to fulfill his demands.

"An Omega who's not obedient to Lycan?" Sebastian said. "I wonder why no one has taught you otherwise yet."

***

Every ten years, the Alpha King will host a competition to choose the Alpha Supreme, and the competition always has twenty competitors participate but only a quarter survive.

When Elizabeth Grey is offered freedom in exchange for accompanying Alpha Sebastian Walt on the Hunt, she has no reason to refuse.

After eight weeks of blood, mayhem, fruitless feeling, and dark secrets, a cursed Alpha with a made Omega are on the Hunt for a deadly game. 

Will things ever remain the same?

The Alpha's Fated Omega

　　My good angle pats my cheek, my bad angle facepalms herself.


　　"What are you telling him?!" she says, waving around her poker. "That stuff's personal."


　　"Shut up," my good angle rebukes her. "Sometimes its best to let the feels out."


　　But I'm not paying attention to them, my attention is focused on Sebastian. He's staring at me like I'm the Hunt's map. Priceless, something he never wants to lose.


　　He brushes my hair away from my face and leans forward. For some reason, I stay still, some kind of anticipation holding me in place.


　　"You'll be surprised by how stubborn I can be, Hazel." He says.


　　"That's an idiotic thing to be stubborn about."


　　A breath of laughter leaves my mouth. "I must be a witch."


　　He's so close, if I move an inch, my lips would brush against his. How would it feel? To let the walls crumble down?


　　“That you are, Hazel,” Sebastian says. “The most lethal one."


CHAPTER 72