Page 12 of The Hunt
Pulling the hood of my cloak over my head, I walk into the trees and disappear while humming a low tune. It won’t take me long to reach my destination, but I plan to confuse him along the way.
I’ll hide. He’ll seek.
But more importantly, Xadiel will come for me with the hunger of a god reborn.
5
XADIEL
“Where are you, Little Moon?” The question rasps out of me, low and rough as I leave her nest. It’s snowing out, the late evening quickly turning dark, and my female is nowhere to be seen.
I don’t like it, and neither does my wolf.
His senses are sharp, more alert than usual—demanding that I find her. It’s there in his constant, low growl, the sound a warning but not from anger…
No. This is pure, unadulterated need.
The kind that burns through reason until instinct is all I have left.
Patting my chest, I try to soothe him, but the animal’s claws rake my insides. His impatience, the driving force to find Isabella, becomes my sole reason to exist.
Mine.
Closing my eyes, I breathe in deep, searching for her scent…
Jasmines. Soft, dangerous, and sweet enough to drown in. It’s surrounded by a trace of my scent, twisting into something uniquely ours.
Then, there’s her magic.
It hums in the air. Its tethers like woven silk tugging me in her direction, pulsing yet delicate.
Always toward home. Because that’s what she is.
My home. My life. My love.
“She was here,” I say, jaw tight. I can still feel the echo of her heartbeat through our bond—the tug at my chest forcing me to walk away from the private nest I’d built for her in the Alaskan wilderness.
I’m following a map no one can see, but I know like the back of my hand. My mark on her throat and the traces of her scent let me find her anywhere, even if she cloaks herself with spells.
Because that’s what this is.
She can’t hide from me.
Not when I’ve been an excellent student.
“My female,” I mutter, exhaling steam into the cold. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
The air crackles then, and the moon rises high. It’s All Hallows’ Eve, a night where the veil thins and magic runs wild—my instincts sharpen to match it. Every year, we steal away from the world to feed this obsession that burns and thrives between us.
No crown. No pack. Just us.
These woods are empty. Our pack has left the area to hunt or has gone home to England so that their royal pair can have some privacy.
They know the law. Know my wrath.
I’m a fair alpha, but anyone—outside of a lost pup—who trespasses on our night will be dealt a swift death. That is the punishment, and it fits the crime. I do not share my female, and tonight, she will run wild and free as I chase, then mount my prize.
Except—she seems to be hiding from me.
