Page 19 of The Fated Hunter Wolf
“Stop,” I said quietly, holding up a hand.
Astrid froze. “What is it?”
“Five of them,” I murmured, tilting my head toward the north. “A mile out. Maybe closer than that.”
Her eyes widened. “You felt that? How do you?—”
“Quiet,” I snapped, cutting her off and leaving no room for argument. I stopped and turned to face her. “Astrid, I need you to stop asking questions and start listening. You’re loud, you’re distracted, and that makes us vulnerable. If you want to get through Orion territory unnoticed, you need to learn how to move.”
Her mouth opened as if to argue, but she sighed and nodded, her shoulders drooping slightly.
The forest closed in around us again. I kept my senses open, scanning for the dangers that lay ahead—not just for myself, but for her.
Because no matter how much Astrid could annoy me, she was still mine to protect.
The cold hit me like a creeping shadow, wrapping around my limbs and settling deep in my core. A familiar and unnerving cost of using that other part of myself, the part I never spoke of, not even to Astrid. The part of me I feared was the reason why I was being hunted now.
I paused mid-step, closing my eyes. My wolf stirred, restless beneath the surface, eager to take over. I reached for her, pulling her warmth forward, commanding it to fill me.
Warm me, I whispered from within.
She growled in response, a low, eager sound that rippled through my chest. Heat rolled over me, spreading outward like fire chasing away the frost. My fingers flexed, and for a moment,the cold receded entirely, replaced by the steady burn of my wolf’s energy.
I opened my eyes, finding Astrid watching me. Her brows knitted together, I could smell her curiosity from ten feet away.
“We shift now,” I said, brushing past her unspoken question.
Astrid blinked, hesitating. “Here? We’re not that close to the border.”
“The sun is rising. We shift. Now.”
I didn’t tell her the real reason: I needed to feel Rhys, to know where he was, to sense him in the air and the earth beneath my paws. Whether I wanted to go to him or avoid him entirely, I didn’t know. But I needed to know if he was there.
I undressed and dropped to my knees, the shift tearing through me in release. Bones snapped and reshaped, fur rippling over my skin, and when I stood on all fours, the world exploded into sharp clarity. I slung my bag around my neck as the forest sang with life, every sound and scent amplified to perfection.
Astrid undressed and followed with a slower shift, her wolf smaller but nimble. She glanced at me, her head tilting in the way it always did when she had a question she didn’t know how to ask.
I didn’t wait. I leapt forward, the freedom of my wolf filling every part of me. The wind rushed past, carrying a familiar scent that sent my wolf surging.
Rhys.
He was close. And we were getting closer.
Astrid followed, her paws thudding behind me. I didn’t slow. The pull was too strong, and my wolf wasn’t about to resist.
The boundary was invisible, but the moment we crossed into Orion land, it was like stepping into a different world. The air was heavier, charged with an energy that prickled at my fur and sank into my skin. The scents were deeper, more layered—earthand pine and the unmistakable musk of wolves. One scent stood out.
Rhys.
If Mariyah’s words were the push to leave our home, Rhys’s scent was a leash, yanking at every fiber of my being. I slowed, my paws crunching softly against the forest floor. My wolf’s focus narrowed to the trail that led to him.
Astrid bumped against me, her smaller wolf nudging my side. Her warm fur was grounding, but when she looked up at me with those curious eyes, I couldn’t meet them. My wolf was slipping, her instincts louder than reason, and I didn’t want Astrid to see me like this—torn between desire and control, between chasing him and fighting the bond.
I caught the whisper of movement far ahead. My wolf ignored it, too consumed by the intoxicating trail in front of us. My paws moved of their own accord even as I felt consumed, surrounded by him. The further we went, the more I felt him—in my pulse, in the marrow of my bones.
Then the sound came.
At first, I thought it was my heartbeat, pounding hard against my ribs. The thud was deep, resonant, like the slow beat of a war drum. But it wasn’t right. It wasn’tmine.
