The Hunt
The wolves gathered in the courtyard the next morning, their expressions grim and determined. Ayla stood at the edge of the group, her stomach churning as she listened to the Alpha’s orders.
“The rogue has been spotted near the eastern border,” the Alpha announced, his deep voice cutting through the crisp air. “We will not tolerate trespassers. He must be captured—or killed.”
Ayla’s heart raced. She knew they were talking about Zion. Her fingers twitched nervously, and she shifted on her feet.
“You’ll all be assigned patrol groups,” the Beta added, his eyes scanning the crowd. “Stay sharp. This rogue is dangerous.”
Rowan’s sharp grin spread across his face as he stepped forward. “I’ll make sure we catch him,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. His gaze flicked to Ayla, his smirk deepening. “Even if some of us might not have the stomach for it.”
Ayla glared at him but bit her tongue. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting.
“Rowan,” the Alpha barked. “You’re with Ayla and Cian.”
Her breath hitched. Of course. She wasn’t surprised they’d thrown her into Rowan’s group—he’d likely requested it. But having Cian with them complicated things.
The forest loomed ahead as the group set off, the scent of damp earth filling Ayla’s nose. She kept her head down, focusing on the trail, while Rowan talked loudly to Cian.
“You think this rogue is just passing through?” Rowan asked, feigning curiosity.
“Maybe,” Cian said, his tone neutral. “But we need to be thorough. Rogues are unpredictable.”
Ayla stayed silent, her eyes scanning the woods for any sign of Zion. The thought of him injured and cornered sent a pang of fear through her. She had to find him first.
“Look alive, Ayla,” Rowan called back mockingly. “Don’t fall behind. I know how much you love the shadows, but we need you here.”
“Shut up, Rowan,” she muttered, quickening her pace to keep up.
They reached the eastern border as the sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows through the trees. Ayla’s pulse quickened when she caught a faint trace of Zion’s scent. It was faint, but it was there.
“Anything?” Cian asked, his sharp green eyes watching her closely.
Ayla hesitated, then shook her head. “Nothing yet.”
Rowan rolled his eyes. “What a surprise,” he muttered.
Cian didn’t say anything, but his gaze lingered on Ayla a moment longer than necessary. She felt the weight of his scrutiny, and it made her skin prickle.
As the group moved deeper into the woods, Ayla subtly steered them away from Zion’s trail, pretending to catch other scents. Rowan grew impatient, muttering under his breath, but Cian remained quiet, observing her every move.
“Something’s off,” Rowan said suddenly, narrowing his eyes at Ayla. “You’re awfully quiet today.”
“I’m trying to focus,” Ayla said, keeping her voice steady.
“Are you?” Rowan’s tone was sharp. “Or are you trying to protect him?”
Ayla’s chest tightened. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Rowan stepped closer, his gaze challenging. “You’ve been acting strange lately. Ever since the rogue showed up.”
“Back off, Rowan,” Cian said, his voice low but firm.
Rowan scoffed but didn’t push further. Ayla shot Cian a quick, surprised glance. Why was he defending her?
As night fell, Ayla managed to slip away from the group under the pretense of scouting ahead. She followed Zion’s trail until she found him, hidden in a hollow near a cluster of boulders.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Zion said the moment he saw her.
“I could say the same to you,” Ayla whispered, kneeling beside him. “They’re looking for you.”
“I know,” Zion said grimly. “They’re getting closer.”
Ayla hesitated, then lowered her voice. “I misled them. You should have time to get away.”
Zion’s gray eyes softened. “Why are you helping me, Ayla? You could get yourself killed.”
She looked away, unsure how to answer. “You said you’d tell me the truth. About my birthmark. My… bloodline.”
Zion nodded slowly. “I will. But first, I need to get out of here.”
“Then go,” Ayla said urgently. “I’ll cover for you.”
Zion’s hand brushed hers. “Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “You’re braver than you think.”
When Ayla returned to the group, Rowan’s glare burned into her. “Where were you?” he demanded.
“Scouting,” Ayla said evenly. “Did you find anything?”
“No,” Rowan snapped, his frustration clear. “But I’ll bet you’re hiding something.”
“Enough,” Cian said, stepping between them. “Let’s head back. We’ve searched enough for one night.”
Rowan growled but didn’t argue. Ayla avoided Cian’s gaze as they made their way back to the packhouse, her thoughts a tangled mess.
Later that night, unable to sleep, Ayla found herself in her father’s old room. The space was dusty and unused, the faint scent of him still lingering. As she searched through his belongings, she stumbled upon a small, leather-bound journal hidden beneath a loose floorboard.
Her heart pounded as she opened it, the familiar handwriting sending a chill through her. It was her mother’s.
The entries detailed her mother’s life—how she had been forced into an arranged mating bond with Ayla’s father. But the words that followed made Ayla’s blood run cold.
“The child born of this union will carry the blood of two Alpha lines. She will be the key to either unity… or destruction.”
