CHAPTER 7

AISLA’S POV

Sleep eluded me that night as I tossed and turned, my mind racing through impossible scenarios. Every strategy I considered for the Hunting Competition seemed more hopeless than the last. By dawn, I'd reached a desperate conclusion.

I need help. And there's only one person who might actually know how to win this thing.

The idea of asking Hughs Hunter for assistance made my stomach churn, but he was the professor here, the expert in combat and strategy. If anyone knew the secrets to succeeding in the competition, it would be him.

He's also the one who helped set this trap, a voice in my head reminded me. Why would he help you escape it?

But desperation made people do foolish things, and I was nothing if not desperate.

I found Hughs exactly where I expected—in the VIP lounge where this whole nightmare had started. He sat alone this time, reading what looked like military strategy reports, a glass of whiskey at his elbow despite the early hour.

Now or never.

I smoothed down my uniform, practiced a smile in the reflection of the glass doors, and stepped inside.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His voice was sharp without him even looking up from his papers.

So much for my planned approach. "I... I wanted to talk to you."

"About?" He still hadn't lifted his eyes, but I could see the tension in his shoulders.

Be nice. Smile. Ask politely. "About the competition. I was hoping you might give me some advice on how to improve my abilities quickly."

That got his attention. He looked up slowly, his red eyes scanning me from head to toe in a way that made me feel exposed.

"Advice?" he repeated, his voice dangerously soft.

"Yes. Tips on combat techniques, survival strategies, anything that might help me—"

He was on his feet before I could finish the sentence, moving with predatory grace that made every instinct scream at me to run.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" he said, stalking toward me.

I backed up instinctively. "I don't know what you mean—"

"The innocent act. The sweet smile. The helpless omega routine." He continued advancing until my back hit the wall. "Did you really think I'd fall for it again?"

"Again?" My voice came out as a whisper as he braced his hands on either side of my head, caging me in.

"Don't play dumb with me, sweetheart." His voice dropped to a growl that sent shivers down my spine. "You think I don't remember? Think I don't know exactly what kind of game you're playing?"

The heat radiating from his body was overwhelming, and I could smell his scent—something dark and intoxicating that made my head spin.

"I'm not playing any game," I managed to say, though my voice sounded breathless even to me.

"No?" His face was inches from mine now, his red eyes burning with something dangerous. "Then explain why you're here, batting those pretty blue eyes at me, asking for my help like a sweet little lamb."

"Because I need—"

"You need to stop." His hand moved to grip my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. "Stop pretending this is the first time you've tried to seduce me."

Seduce him? Confusion mixed with the heat building in my chest. "What are you talking about?"

"Three weeks ago. The Crimson Moon Bar downtown." His thumb traced along my jawline, the touch both gentle and threatening. "Ring any bells?"

My mind raced, trying to place the memory. Three weeks ago...

Oh god.

The night my father had announced my engagement to Leon. The night I'd snuck out of the house to drink away my despair at some dingy bar across town.

"You remember now, don't you?" Hughs's smile was predatory. "How you stumbled into me, all wide-eyed and innocent. How you pressed that soft little body against mine and looked up at me with those same blue eyes."

The memory came flooding back—bumping into a tall, dark stranger in the crowded bar, the way he'd steadied me with strong hands, the heat that had flared between us instantly.

"I was drunk," I whispered. "I didn't know who you were—"

"Didn't you?" His other hand slid down to rest on my waist, his grip firm and possessive. "Or did you know exactly who I was and see an opportunity?"

"No, I—"

"You kissed me," he continued, his voice a low rumble that made my knees weak. "Threw yourself at me like a woman starved. Moaned so sweetly when I kissed you back."

Heat flooded my cheeks as more of that night came back to me. The way I'd felt so reckless, so desperate to forget about Leon and my father's betrayal. The way this stranger's touch had made me feel alive for the first time in years.

"And then you disappeared," Hughs whispered against my ear, his breath hot against my skin. "Left me wanting more, didn't you? Was that part of your plan too?"

"There was no plan!" I tried to push against his chest, but he didn't budge. "I ran because I was embarrassed! Because I'd never done anything like that before!"

"Liar." His lips brushed against my neck, sending electricity through my entire body. "You think I don't know a practiced seductress when I see one?"

"I'm not—" My protest died as he nipped at my pulse point, making me gasp.

"No?" His hand slid lower, settling on my hip. "Then why are you trembling? Why is your heart racing? Why do you smell like arousal right now?"

Because you're touching me, I wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come. My body was betraying me, responding to his proximity in ways I couldn't control.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he murmured, his lips trailing up to my ear. "To get me alone, to remind me of that night, to make me want you again?"

"No—"

"To use that pretty little body to convince me to help you?" His voice turned harsh, cruel. "Did you really think I'd be stupid enough to fall for the same trick twice?"

The accusation hit like cold water, snapping me back to reality. "It's not a trick! I just need help!"

"From me?" He pulled back to look at me, his expression mocking. "After everything you've done, everything you've caused, you think I'd help you?"

"What I've caused?" Anger flared hot in my chest. "You're the ones who've been tormenting me!"

"We've been protecting ourselves," he said coldly. "From manipulative little omegas who think they can use their bodies to get what they want."

"That's not what I'm doing!"

"Isn't it?" His grip tightened on my waist. "Then why are you pressed against me like this? Why aren't you fighting harder to get away?"

Because his touch felt like fire and I was drowning in the intensity of his presence. Because even though I hated him, my body remembered that night at the bar when I'd felt wanted and alive.

"Let me go," I said instead, trying to inject steel into my voice.

"In a moment." His red eyes held mine captive. "First, let me make something crystal clear. Your pathetic attempts at seduction won't save you from the competition. Nothing will. You're going to fail spectacularly, and then you're going to leave this academy and never bother my family again."

"We'll see about that," I said, lifting my chin defiantly.

He laughed, the sound dark and dangerous. "Such fire. I almost admire your determination to destroy yourself."

Before I could respond, he stepped back abruptly, leaving me swaying against the wall.

"Get out," he said, turning away dismissively. "And don't come back. Next time you want to play seduction games, find someone else to be your victim."

I stumbled out of the lounge on unsteady legs, my face burning with humiliation and something else I didn't want to name. The hallway seemed to spin around me as I tried to process what had just happened.

He kissed me that night. I kissed him back. And now he thinks I'm some kind of manipulative seductress.

"Ailsa?" A familiar voice made me look up.

Cayden Hunter stood at the end of the hallway, his green eyes taking in my disheveled appearance with obvious amusement.

"Rough meeting?" he asked, that fake smile playing on his lips.

"I'm fine," I said quickly, trying to smooth down my hair.

"Of course you are." He moved closer, and I noticed he carried himself differently than his older brother—less predatory, more calculated. "You know, you look like you could use some help."

Not again. "I don't need help from any of you."

"Are you sure about that?" His smile widened. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like my brother just ate you alive and spit you out."

The accuracy of his observation made me flinch. "What do you want, Cayden?"

"To offer you what Hughs clearly wouldn't." He stepped closer, close enough that I could smell his cologne—something lighter than his brother's, but no less intoxicating. "Real advice about the competition."

I stared at him suspiciously. "Why would you help me?"

"Who says I'm helping you?" His laugh was soft, almost gentle. "Maybe I just enjoy watching beautiful women destroy themselves. Or maybe I have my own reasons for wanting to see what you're really capable of."

Beautiful women. The words sent an unwelcome flutter through my chest.

"Think about it," he said, backing away with that same enigmatic smile