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Hunter puts him in a headlock. “Want a tour of the common areas?”
“Is there a pool?” I ask, slowly losing my mind.
“Olympic size.”
Thank the chlorine gods.
I need a deep spiritual cleansing.
I’m dizzy with rescues and gifts and perfect cave homes that make me start thinking I can keep things that’ll never be mine.
I duck back into my room, where my fully-stocked closet has a lifetime supply of expensive yoga gear and swimsuits. I change into a navy one-piece, throw on comfy yoga clothes, and then bump into Orion in the hall.
“Lunch? You must be hungry.”
“Sure.” I’m not, thanks to stress and hormones, but that’s exactly why I need to eat.
“Where’d Jett go?” I ask as Finn and Hunter escort us back up the elevator.
“Talking to prisoners from last night,” Hunter says.
“Talking.” I lift a brow.
Finn hmms. “I get to talk with what’s left of them.”
Orion pats my arm. “Jett will get answers.”
“I bet.” I should probably feel worse about the torture thing, but stop trying to kidnap omegas, and you’ll be fine.
The guys show me around the upper floors of the bunker building. There’s a grocery store, coffee shop, spa, and even playgrounds where kids run and parents cluster together, laughing.
So happy.
It’s like the childhood you wish you had.
Can’t relate.
Female omegas go glitter-eyed with gossip when they spot me surrounded by Wyverns, but nobody dares to come into their protective triangle.
“You can move around the public levels,” Hunter says. “We’ll be in and out while we hunt Dominik, but one of us will be with you at all times.”
“As long as I can help with the hunt.” After all the attempts to spirit me away, I’m all about the extra protection.
We walk into the cafeteria as a pack, and Finn grabs a black plastic tray. “What are you eating, Star?”
“Everything,” I sigh, smelling something fried.
The place looks more like a fancy mall food court than a mess hall, with vendors at the edges of the room and groups of booth seats in the middle.
Spotting someone with a milkshake, I beeline to the burger stand, but when I pick up a tray, Hunter snatches it from my fingertips. “Let me.”
“I can carry it.”
“Why?” Finn leans on me, soaking me in oranges and gunpowder.
“Because I have hands?”
Nobody listens.
