Emory woke to the whisper of dawn.

Outside her fortress of solitude, the world awakened; the gentle rustling of small animals and the distant calls of birds reached her.

As she sat up, the events of the past day flooded her mind like a relentless stream. She couldn’t quite fit together the prophecy, her lineage as a Hunter Wolf, and the possible union with Lord Wulric.

She swung her legs over the bed, her feet touching the cold floor, and stood, stretching the sleep from her limbs. Emory meandered into the bathroom, letting the bath envelop her in its warm embrace until the water turned icy. Then she washed off and returned to her bedroom.

Dressing quickly, she opted for practicality over formality—a sturdy pair of black boots, durable black pants, and a lightweight deep green shirt, all in shades that blended with the forest’s hues. She tied her hair back, securing the wild curls that always seemed to have a mind of their own.

As she left her quarters, walked back through the bridge to the main house and descended the stairs, the house was already buzzing with activity. She stopped to take it all in. Goddess, how she had missed this. Kirsten was in the massive pack kitchen with a handful of attendants. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the early morning air, and Emory breathed it in hungrily.

“Morning,” she greeted no one in particular.

“Lady Chav’re,” came the chorus from the attendants, a brief break in their orchestrated chaos before they dove back into their tasks.

“Emory, eat something. You’ll need your strength,” Kirsten urged, pushing a plate of food on the island toward her. Emory managed a small smile in thanks, her appetite non-existent but understanding the necessity of nourishment.

Nibbling on the food, Emory let her thoughts drift to Kirsten. She embodied that nurturing essence, a gentle force within the pack, her warmth radiating like the morning sun. But Emory knew beneath that soft exterior was a Luna’s might—a fierce protector, a warrior in her own right, ready to unleash devastating storms for her loved ones.

Then came the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps behind her. Emory didn’t need to turn around to know it was her brother; his presence was always heralded by a commanding aura that compelled attention and a scent uniquely his.

The kitchen momentarily stood still, a unified “Alpha” greeting him.

Kirsten met him with a coffee cup and a quick kiss, before ambling back to the stove. Trey nodded to each of the cooks, before settling into a chair in front of Emory.

Trey looked up, his eyes meeting hers. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” she replied, the words more for herself than for him. The truth was, she didn’t know if she was ready.

Stepping outside with Trey, Emory was met with a sight that both comforted and overwhelmed her—a line of Gammas, ready to launch themselves into danger at a moment’s notice. Trey’s over protectiveness was written all over this display, and while part of her appreciated the gesture, another part wished for a little less fanfare.

“Let’s go,” Trey’s voice broke the early morning stillness as he hopped into the car, the door held open by Tommy.

Emory trailed after him, a flicker of protest lighting up her words as they rolled out of the compound. “We went over this last night. You’re not supposed to come.”

“I’ll only go as far as the gate. Rodyn and the Hunters are already waiting at the West gate,” Trey reassured her, his smile softening the edge of command in his voice. His gaze lingered on her for a moment. “Take care out there. I’ve arranged the finest protection for you—twenty-five of our finest Hunters. And you, trained by Kinshra herself, will outshine them all.”

She cracked a smile. “I’ll be back by dusk,” she promised, though a part of her wondered about the truth in that promise.

The ride was draped in thoughtful silence until Trey received a wooden box from Tommy.

“I meant to give you this on your birthday, but it seems fitting now,” he said, offering her the box.

She was just two months away from turning 25; July was coming up fast. Curious, she opened the box, and her breath caught at the sight. Nestled within were silver daggers, their blades alive and pulsating a chilling note. Each one bore a tale in its design—mythical beasts, celestial patterns, landscapes woven in silver.

“These are incredible,” she whispered.

“Daggers are your thing, Kinshra mentioned. So, naturally, I got you the finest.” His smile, proud and reassuring, warmed her. He handed her the accompanying sheaths, crafted in rich brown leather, which she had overlooked.

“Gear up, Hunter. The gate’s close,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said softly, securing the sheaths to her thighs with practised ease. The balance and craftsmanship of the daggers brought a genuine smile to her face.

As the car halted, Emory’s eyes searched the surroundings, expecting an imposing gate like the rest of them, but found none. Stepping out, she let the familiar scent of sandalwood guide her through the sea of Gammas to him—Rodyn. A platoon of hunters stood in front of a passageway guarded by Gammas. Seeing their powerful bodies made her smile. She was excited to see them in action.

“Lady Chav’re,” their collective greeting rumbled, prompting Emory to wave.

Beside her, Trey extended a backpack. “Kirsten thought you might need this.”

Her eyes scanned the area. “This is the West gate?” The lack of a physical gate puzzled her.

“It’s a hidden tunnel leading straight to Davelriden Forest, a secret passage that saves time and remains cloaked from the Lycans because they rarely go into the Davelriden,” Trey clarified.

Accepting the backpack, Emory had to admit she was impressed and relieved. The thought of bypassing long hours in a vehicle for a stealthy trek through an underground tunnel was oddly comforting. She caught the brief exchange between Trey and Rodyn, a part of her curious about their whispered conversation, but she chose respect over curiosity, letting them have their moment.

“We’re set to go,” Rodyn announced as he returned to her side, his gaze locking with Emory’s.

She faced Trey now. “What was in the letter?” she asked. She’d been curious about that since she left Trey at the East Gate.

“Come back safe, and I’ll tell you everything,” Trey promised, pulling her into an embrace. She allowed herself to lean into the hug for a moment before stepping away.

With a final squeeze from Trey, Emory stepped back, gathering herself. She turned to Rodyn, who nodded at her readiness, and together they approached the platoon of Hunters.

“Alpha.” They gave a bow to Trey, and he nodded for them to take their leave.

They descended into the underground tunnel, its entrance cleverly concealed by the surrounding foliage. As they went, the cool, earthy scent of the tunnel enveloped Emory, grounding her. She could feel the earth beneath her feet, sense the pulsing of the ground and everyone’s pulse as they went.

Rodyn led the way in a steady rhythm. The Hunters followed in silence. Emory found herself sandwiched between rows of Hunters. There was barely any light in the tunnel, the only sound being their synchronized footsteps echoing off the walls. But Rodyn moved like he’d been through here a million times and knew it by heart. It was easy to see why Trey wanted the Hunters to take her. Just like her, they would feel the tunnel, the ground, everything and moved without need for sight.

Rodyn occasionally glanced back, making sure Emory kept pace and even in the near darkness, she saw his eyes, a calming shade of grey. They moved through the tunnel with a steady pace, not slow, no. It was in keeping with Kinshra’s but not nearly as fast, so she could keep up.

It was a long journey, and she was starting to sweat, but she sure as hell wasn’t taking any breaks. After what felt like days but was only hours, the tunnel began to ascend, leading them towards the hidden exit at the edge of Davelriden Forest. The transition from the confining darkness of the tunnel to the open, vibrant world of the forest was jarring. Morning light filtered through the dense canopy, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor.

Emerging from the tunnel, Emory took a moment to adjust to the change in environment, breathing in the fresh air hungrily. Her senses awakened, her lungs filling with the invigorating scent of earth and morning dew, and her skin tingled with the warmth of the morning sun. She stood still for a moment, absorbing the vibrant colours and sounds of the forest.

“We need to proceed to the rendezvous point where Lord Wulric should meet us,” he said to her, gesturing towards the dense forest up ahead.

The Hunters spread out, forming a protective circle around Emory as they began their trek through the forest. The ground was uneven, a muddle of roots and fallen leaves that crunched underfoot. The sunlight struggled to pierce the thick foliage above, creating a realm of perpetual twilight.

As they moved deeper into Davelriden, Emory looked around the old, forgotten forest with trees she couldn’t identify. It felt alive, like it was watching, perhaps even guiding them towards their destination. The forest was teeming with a symphony of chirping birds and rustling leaves. She could hear the distant calls of woodland creatures, the gentle swaying of branches, and the occasional scurrying of small animals.

They had travelled north for more than an hour, and Emory was thirsty. She looked up to try to figure out how long it had taken to get here from Kedar. As she gazed up at the sun-dappled canopy, she noticed a small stream winding its way through the forest. The sound of trickling water was a welcome relief, and she eagerly followed the meandering path, cupping her hands to drink from its crystal-clear depths. Refreshed, she rejoined the Hunters, their footsteps now accompanied by the gentle babbling of the stream as they continued their journey towards the rendezvous point.

Then she heard it, and so did the others, because they came to a screeching stop. The snapping of a branch west of their location could only be the result of a human or Lycan approaching sneakily. Before Emory could ask Rodyn what the plan was, one of the Hunters spoke up.

The hunter, a blonde with cloudy eyes, looked directly at Emory, like she was reporting to her and not Rodyn. “There’s a battalion of Lycans coming from the west bank, Lady Chav’re. The King is absent.”

How did she know that? When Rodyn signalled for them to get low, and they did. They crouched, hidden by the under-brush. Why wouldn’t Lord Wulric meet with her? If he responded to her request by sending a bloody battalion, then her decision was made. But she considered that maybe Lord Wulric had disguised himself as one of the Lycans approaching from the west bank. It was a smart way for him to slip away unnoticed.

“Natalie sees through the eyes of the forest; birds, small animals,” Rodyn whispered to Emory.

“Wow.” Emory looked over at Natalie, now curious about everyone’s abilities. “Can you circle the battalion? It doesn’t seem likely that they would be here unless they were with the king. He may be disguised as one of them.”

Rodyn stared sharply at her, but did not speak. The look on his face made her think he didn’t think she could think like that.

“What am I looking for, Lady Chav’re?” Natalie asked.

“They can’t help but protect their king,” Emory explained. “Lycans are fiercely loyal creatures, and their first instinct is to defend their leader. If Lord Wulric is indeed among them, they would naturally surround and defend him, revealing his presence in the process.”

Nodding, Natalie got to work, and Emory turned to Rodyn. “Did you think I wouldn’t have any tactical insights?” she teased.

His response was a hesitant, reluctant admission of his underestimation. “I—suppose I’m still learning about your capabilities. My last memory of you is’”

“I know.” Emory nodded, then turned away.

“It’s not the king that’s rallying the battalion. It’s a woman, Alpha Rodyn,” Natalie said. “And I think she’s a sniffer.”

“Alright.” Rodyn stood up. “The first team, take Lady Chav’re and head for the rendezvous point. The second team, make sure nobody gets past the midway point. Third team, you’re with me. The sniffer is the target. Move!”

Neutralizing the sniffer was important because she posed a significant threat to the mission. That damn Lycan sniffer could track their movements and compromise their location and plans.

Emory watched as the Hunters quickly divided, each group moving with precision. The plan was clear: protect, divert, and neutralize.

Team one led her away, her pulse pounding in her ears as they moved through the verdant maze of Davelriden. She glanced back, where Rodyn and team three had disappeared into the foliage. Her stealth in tow, she kept up with them, and once the second team broke away, her team crossed the brook and continued on their way.

Hands on shoulders, each linking as they moved, Emory slowed to a stop and the team of eight bumped into each other. Reaching for her dagger, she growled.

“Lycans,” she announced as Lycan sentinels bounded down from the trees above. It was an ambush, and she hadn’t a clue how it happened.

The Lycan sentinels had them surrounded and without hesitation, Emory drew her new silver daggers. Each hunter transformed and stood ready for battle, forming a protective circle around her.

In a blur of speed and fury, the Lycans charged, but the Hunters were ready. While the chaos raged, Emory found herself thrust into the fray, daggers dancing in her hands as she parried and struck. The clash was brutal, the sounds of combat echoing through the forest. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. Each heartbeat, a drum of war. The Hunters fought fiercely, their formations tight even in the chaos, their ferocity matched by the relentless Lycans surging forward in waves.

But despite her training, the raw power of the Lycans in their shifted form was overwhelming. She fell back into the middle of the tight circle the Hunters maintained even while fighting.

More Lycans broke through the tree line, their numbers seemed endless. Natalie fell back next to Emory, her breath ragged from exertion as she shifted. “Lady Chav’re. Roll down the hill once I give you the opening, and keep going until Alpha Rodyn finds you. We’ll make our stand here,” she said.

Emory nodded, gripping her daggers tighter. She watched as Natalie shifted form, her figure becoming even more formidable as she howled to regroup the Hunters. With a powerful surge, Natalie plunged back into the fray, her war cry echoing through the air.

Seizing the moment, Emory dashed forward, using the opening Natalie created. The ground sloped beneath her feet, and she let momentum take over, rolling down the hill as dirt and leaves blurred past her.