Page 26 of The Fated Hunter Wolf
I kept my head forward. My body was light and fast, the night taking over as we ran. The Orion lands stretched wide beneath us, rolling hills and dense, towering pines, their scent rich and layered in ways the Heraclid land had never been. The earth here breathed differently. It was healthier. The land knew who lived upon it.
I pushed down the curl of something in my chest. The land knew the Orion pack, but the pack didn’t know what had become of the lost Orion brothers.
I know the black hearts of Logan’s twin brothers. Blacker than night and unredeemable. Just like Rhys.
The Orion village unfolded before us, the scent of fresh wood and churned earth thick in the air. The Old Town was still under construction, half-built structures standing in defiance of what had been torn down. Wolves moved like a tide through the streets—hauling lumber, setting stones, mending what had been broken. It was a sight I wouldn’t have believed I’d see months ago. Heraclids and Orions coming together.
Beneath the activity, I felt fractures, tension.
Conversations dipped as we passed by in wolf form. Shoulders stiffened and wary eyes tracked my every movement. Some scents I recognized—wolves who had once served under Grayson, now forced to live among those they’d once terrorized.
And there I was—former Heraclid, now unaffiliated, walking among them with an escort of the alpha and his mate, elders, a tracker, and a beta who growled whenever someone looked at me. I might as well have been wearing a target on my back.
I kept my expression neutral, my steps measured. I’d spent years cultivating invisibility, staying aloof so I could slip in and out as needed to save my pack sisters from wherever they were held. The Crux enforcer when duty called. No ties, no roots. A shadow among shadows.
Here, there was no slipping away. No blending into the background.
A woman tugged a child closer as I passed. A group of warriors—patched up and bearing fresh scars—muttered under their breath, one of them spitting onto the ground.
I didn’t flinch, but my wolf bristled.
And through it all, I could feel Rhys at my flank. His energy was a steady weight against my own. As if he was making it clear to the entire village—and maybe to himself—that he wasn’t letting me out of his sight.
I exhaled through my nose and kept walking.
I’d been surrounded by enemies before. This time, it was different. This time, I wasn’t sure whose side I was on.
The Orions putus up in a cabin that smelled of old cedar and pine resin, the scent thick in the corners where time had settled with the dust. It was a sturdy thing, built to last, with hand-carved beams that stretched across the ceiling like ribs. The hearth was dark, but I could still see it as it must have been once, before war and loss. A family cabin. A place of safety.
For me, it was a cage.
I paced to the window, peering out at the stretch of land beyond the enforcers stationed outside. The village pulsed with life in the distance—wolves moving between shops, warriors training in a dirt-packed circle.
Astrid sat on the edge of a worn leather couch, her legs pulled up to her chest, watching me with thinly veiled exasperation. “You know, you could at least pretend to be happy about this.”
I snorted and turned away from the window. “Happy about what? Being under house arrest? Being babysat by Orion enforcers who’d rather see me dead?”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s a little dramatic.”
“They’re not exactly throwing us a welcome party.”
Astrid sighed, stretching out her legs with a pointed yawn. “This is good, Sable. We can finally stop running. Now that you’ve told me there’s some funky cosmic business brewingbetween you and the beta, maybe you could even see if it’s a bond worth pursuing.” I choked at the thought. I’d told Astrid the least I could about Rhys, that a bond had been planted and was causing interference. “Come on, Mama Sabe. We can have a real life here.”
A real life.
I didn’t know what that meant. My entire existence had been built on movement, never letting anyone close enough to hold me still.
“I don’t doreal life,” I muttered, pulling my hair into a tight ponytail.
She frowned. “Maybe you could try it.”
I didn’t answer. The romantic idea of real life had its draws. Sure, there were times I thought about settling in with a pack, being a part of that community and building it up while watching the generations thrive. It sounded nice, but when I thought of my pack sisters, the Crux who remained persecuted, alone, and sometimes not even knowing they had a pack out there… that kept me going. No comforts of simple pack life could draw me away from that call.
I turned back to the window, my mind drifting to someone who had nothing to do with Orion. Nothing to do with my own personal hell.
Dahlia.
She should have been with us here. She should have been free.
