Page 93 of His to Hunt

Covington doesn’t have a major airport, but we do have a smaller one that people around here love because they get to skip the lines at the bigger airports. I don’t even have to worry about that. When we get to the airport, Victor drives past the terminal and the parking area, pulling the SUV into what appears to be a private hanger.

“Saul has his own hanger?” I ask.

“No, but he does have his own jet, and when you have your own jet, you can usually find a hanger to rent,” Victor explains. “The hanger and the jet are ours to use as long as we need them.”

“Wow, okay,” I breathe incredulously, my eyes widening when I see the jet.

Saul’s private jet doesn’t look much different from a commercial plane, except it’s smaller.

“Are these jets as safe as the bigger planes?” I ask apprehensively.

“I’m flying it, so you don’t have to worry about a damn thing,” Victor says confidently, parking the Land Rover.

“Oh, you’re a pilot?” I ask, raising a brow.

“I’m a lot of things,” he quips, opening the door and getting out.

I keep learning new things about Victor every day. I had no idea he was a pilot, but I feel a little safer knowing he’ll be the one flying the jet. I know how much he wants to keep me safe, so he won’t let anything happen to us. That still doesn’t completely ease the butterflies, but I feel a little better when he opens my door and helps me out.

The jet has a sleek, white exterior. There are some windows, but they’re too dark for me to see inside. The ramp is already down, and I don’t see anyone in the hanger at all. I keep looking around for someone as we approach, expecting at least a flight attendant, even if Victor is the one piloting it.

“It’s just us? Nobody else?” I ask.

“We don’t need anyone else,” he says. “Just clearance from the control tower before we take off.”

I follow him onto the plane, and if the exterior wasn’t enough to convince me it was a luxury private jet, the interior definitely does. There aren’t many seats. I only count six rows, and the rest is open space. Then I remember my mate is a wolf shifter, and this jet belongs to one, so it’s likely designed for their comfort.

“Why don’t you ride up front with me until we’re in the air,” Victor says, gesturing toward the cockpit. “You can be my co-pilot.”

“I’ll be a useless co-pilot,” I laugh, walking toward the front of the jet.

“You’ll be a beautiful one,” he chuckles, smacking my ass before I can get past him.

Once we’re seated, he shows me how to use the headphones and explains a few basic controls. It might as well be a cipher, because even with his explanation, I’m not sure what much of it means. Thankfully, that doesn’t seem to matter, because I’m still looking over everything when the plane begins to move.

“Oh crap,” I say, putting my hand out to brace myself.

“Relax, we’re not even in the air yet,” he laughs.

My stomach flips uncomfortably as we move across the tarmac. He communicates with the control tower until we get clearance and then the jet really starts to accelerate. The motion makes me more nervous, especially when the nose lifts and we take off. The higher we get, the more nervous I feel. I finally have to close my eyes, just so I don’t feel so queasy.

“Are you doing okay?” Victor asks, his voice echoing in my ears.

I adjust the microphone. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just waiting for my stomach to settle.”

“Look at it like this: we’ll soon be so high up you won’t feel a damn thing if we crash,” he snarks.

“Oh, thanks. That makes me feel so much better,” I mutter, daring to crack an eyelid once my stomach settles.

I see enough to make my stomach uneasy again, but I can’t deny it’s beautiful. The landscape stretches for miles, and I can see the entire city of Covington. I could probably pick out Shana’s house, Madison’s house, and even my grandmother’s house from here. I definitely know where the diner and penthouse are, just based on the layout of the streets. I guess I know the city I grew up in better than I realized.

“Okay, this isn’t so bad,” I admit, looking around. “Everything looks so peaceful from up here.”

“Yeah, I’ve never minded flying,” he growls. “I just prefer to keep all four paws on the ground when I can.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t pick a better location for the ritual,” I say. “This just seemed like the one that would make the biggest impact.”

“If it doesn’t work the way we hope, at least we get to spend some time together,” he answers, hitting a button and standing up.