*CHAPTER FOUR: THE HUNT BEGINS*
Lucien's boots echoed through the underground armory. Matteo trailed behind, holding a black folder.
"I thought you said no hunting," Matteo said quietly.
"I'm not sending soldiers," Lucien replied. "I'm sending someone smarter."
He stopped at a locked door — biometric access only. Inside: a room no one touched unless Lucien gave the order.
"Who?" Matteo asked.
Lucien opened the folder.
Inside was a profile: *Vera Calderón* — bounty hunter, rogue Beta, neutral affiliation. Known for finding anyone, anywhere.
"She'll find him," Lucien said. "But she's not to touch him."
Matteo raised an eyebrow. "Protect or track?"
Lucien didn't answer.
***
*Two towns away...*
Eli moved through the café, serving tea with quiet grace. He hadn't seen the stranger watching from across the street. She wore sunglasses despite the clouds, and her fingers tapped a silent rhythm against a worn notebook.
*Vera Calderón.*
She smiled faintly.
"Omega," she whispered. "You really thought you could run from *him*?"
***
*Back at the estate*
Leo slammed a bottle down. "You're sending an outsider to find him? That kid's a weakness."
"He's *mine*," Lucien said coldly.
"You're losing focus—"
Lucien's voice dropped. "If anything happens to him, I will burn this entire city to the ground. You included."
The room fell silent.
No one questioned him again.
---
---
The evening air in the quiet town had changed.
Eli felt it before he saw it — a chill in the wind, a wrongness in the silence. The kind that made instincts twitch. He tightened his scarf, trying to dismiss it as paranoia. But Omegas didn't get to ignore instincts.
Especially not ones with a bond tugging at them from miles away.
He closed up the café alone that night. Ms. Lan had gone home early. The lights flickered. The streets were too empty.
As he locked the door, something moved across the street.
A flicker of shadow — gone before he could focus.
His heart jumped. His suppressant patch suddenly felt too thin, like his scent was bleeding through. He turned sharply.
No one.
Just the quiet hum of the streetlamp and the sound of his own heartbeat.
He hurried home, every step echoing louder than it should.
***
Across the road, Vera stayed still, pressed against the wall of the bookstore. Watching.
She didn't need to move yet.
Eli was jumpy.
*Good.*
Fear would make him predictable.
But Vera had a rule: never deliver a target without knowing why they were wanted.
And something about Lucien Moretti's silence when he said *"Don't touch him"*...
That made her curious.
Who was this boy to the mafia king?
And why did his scent make her feel like she was trespassing on something sacred?
---
The café bell chimed just before closing.
Eli looked up from the counter to see her — sleek leather jacket, dark glasses, calm steps. She didn't *look* dangerous. But something in the way she moved made his skin crawl.
"Tea?" he asked, masking his nerves.
"Chamomile," she replied, sliding into the corner booth. "You look like someone who doesn't sleep well."
He stiffened, pouring the tea slowly.
As he set the cup down, her eyes met his — the glasses gone now, revealing a gaze sharp and unreadable.
"I'm new in town," she said. "Thought I'd try the local flavor."
Eli's stomach turned.
Something was off. She wasn't flirting. She was *fishing*.
"I don't talk to strangers," he said quietly.
She smiled. "That's smart. Especially for someone with a scent that shouldn't exist here."
Eli froze.
She sipped the tea.
"Relax. I'm not here to hurt you," Vera said softly. "But I know who you're running from. And I know what happens if someone else finds you first."
Eli's voice cracked. "Lucien sent you?"
She nodded. "He's not the only one looking."
Eli backed up, heart pounding.
"Don't panic," she said, standing slowly. "He didn't ask me to drag you back. Just to make sure you're alive."
"Why?" Eli whispered.
Vera's smile faded. "Because, sweetheart… whatever you are to him? It scares him."
She stepped out into the night, leaving the tea unfinished.
And Eli trembling.
---