Page 52 of The Fated Hunter Wolf
“Pack protection,” Eve said quietly.
“Full protection.” My wolf rose to the surface, lending steel to my voice. “Permanent membership. Make her Orion. Give her a place where no council summons or auction house can touch her.”
Astrid’s sharp intake of breath was audible, but I kept my focus on Eve. This was bigger than rescue missions or political games. This was about giving the girl I’d raised something I’d never had—a real home and a pack who would be with her until the end.
The silence stretched. Logan and Eve exchanged one of those wordless conversations that came with mated bonds, entire arguments condensed into glances.
“You go for Rhys,” Eve finally said, alpha authority wrapping around each word, “and I’ll formally adopt Astrid into the Orion pack. Full membership, full protection, my personal guarantee.”
“And if I don’t make it back?”
“The offer stands,” Eve said without hesitation. “She stays either way.”
Relief flooded through me. Whatever happened in Blackwood territory, Astrid would be safe. She’d have the belonging I’d never been able to give her.
“We have a deal.” I turned toward the door, already feeling the bond tugging me northward. “I’ll leave within the hour.”
“Sable.” Eve’s voice stopped me at the threshold. “Be careful. Whatever drove him into those lands has been waiting for this for a very long time.”
I nodded, the bond in my chest growing fainter with each passing moment.
“I know,” I said, silver magic flickering around my fingers. “But I’m done being fucked with.”
The bond draggedme north into Blackwood territory, each pulse of pain stabbing me as I ran. More than half a day passed as I ran, using my dark heritage to mask my wolf scent andquicken my pace. Blackwood was the next territory, but lay beyond the far corner of Orion lands—eight hours at a fast run—with little more than a knife and my silver magic to protect me.
All the way, Rhys’s pain bled through the damaged connection, vampire venom having its effect.
He was dying. And I was dying with him.
The forest reeked of old blood and older hungers. Even the trees here were too tall, too dark, their branches twisted into shapes that hurt to look at. This was vampire territory, the kind of place where wolves vanished and their bones fed the roots.
I could still smell him underneath the decay. Pine and wolf musk and that scent that belonged only to Rhys, cutting through centuries of death. His trail wove between massive trunks, marked with drops of blood that made my teeth ache.
I pressed deeper into territory that should have terrified me, following the silver thread of connection through clearings where nothing grew and past trees scarred with claw marks. The bond pulled harder, and a part of me was growing weaker as I got closer.
The scent of fresh blood stopped me cold.
There was Rhys’s blood, but there was also vampire musk thick enough to choke on, mixed with the acrid smell of burned silver. I drew on my dark heritage to cover my wolf scent as I approached. They’d be distracted by the smell of blood, enough that I could approach without their knowing.
Voices carried through the darkness ahead. They sounded bored.
“Useless,” one was saying. “Perhaps we should drain him and move on.”
“The master said we might as well get Orion intelligence from the beta. Consider it punishment for dragging his pathetic feral carcass into our lands.” This was another speaker, female, whospoke with cruel patience. “Pack routes. Territory weaknesses. The usual.”
I crept forward until I could see the clearing through the twisted undergrowth. Three vampires stood around a figure chained to an oak by silver links that pulsed with malevolent light. Even from here, I could see the burns where the metal touched exposed skin.
Rhys hung naked and unconscious, head tilted forward, his chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. The open wounds I’d left were surrounded by bite marks in various stages of healing. They were feeding slowly, keeping him alive but weak.
My magic flared without permission, silver light crackling around my fingers. The urge to rip them apart was so strong my fangs began to descend—wolf or vampire, I wasn’t sure which.
Control, I snarled at myself.There are three of them. You can’t take them all if you lose your head.
The female vampire moved closer to Rhys, a thin and sharp blade glinting in her hand. She pressed it to his throat, and he jerked awake with a sound that made my wolf howl.
“There you are,” she purred. “Ready to discuss Orion’s patrol schedules? Or shall we continue our little experiment?”
Rhys lifted his head, and even weakened, defiance burned in his eyes. “Fuck off.”
