Page 15 of Curses and Casualties (Hunters Hollow #3)

Ryan

“ N ot much farther now,” Amara says, leading us through a dense part of the forest that feels as if it hasn’t felt the touch of sunlight in centuries.

The terrain’s turned brutal—craggy cliffs replacing thick forests, the valleys swallowed in mist. The air here feels different.

Like it’s charged with an otherworldly energy that makes my wolf stir restlessly beneath my skin.

Old magic, Kane rumbles, more alert than he’s been in days. Can taste it. Like blood and moonlight. Like the first hunt.

I glance back at our small group. Scarlett moves with the easy grace of a born shifter, and Ethan adapts quickly to the challenging landscape with a warrior’s resolve.

Amara leads and Darius follows up the rear with the confidence of two people who’ve trekked this path before.

But it’s Georgia who I watch most closely.

The strain of the journey hasn’t dimmed her spirit, but I can see the toll it’s taking on her physically. Worry gnaws on my insides.

Sure, she’s keeping pace, and I can see how determined she is by the set of her jaw, but her limp—the permanent reminder of the night Luna’s spirit entered her body—seems more pronounced with each passing hour.

Through our bond, I feel the sharp spikes of pain she’s trying to hide, like hot needles in her hip and knee with every step.

Much like the wounds that mar my neck and face, the gash on her leg never fully healed, leaving her with this lasting vulnerability that sets my protective instincts on edge.

“How are you holding up, love?” I ask, taking her hand and using my other hand to lift her by her behind when we need to climb over a particularly steep section of the trail. Her hand grips mine tightly, and she gives me a small nod, her breath coming out in short puffs.

“I’m OK,” she says, though the grimace she tries to hide tells a different story. “Just a bit tired, but who isn’t?” She attempts a laugh, but it’s strained.

Without giving it more thought, I stop suddenly, my mind made up.

“I don’t want to rest when we’re almost there,” Georgia protests as I gently lower her to a moss-covered rock, and call for the others to hold up a moment.

“I know you’re strong,” I say, running the pad of my thumb along the edge of her jaw and she leans into me. “But let me be your strength right now.”

Her eyes meet mine, flickers of annoyance and affection mingling in their depths. “Ryan,” she starts, the edge of protest still clear in her tone, but I quickly shush her.

“What’s the point in this bond making me so strong if it isn’t to carry my mate?”

I pull my shirt over my head and hand it to her, and she exhales, a smile teasing at the corners of her lips despite her discomfort. “You’re impossible,” she murmurs, but the warmth in her gaze is undeniable.

“Everything all right?” Darius asks, his eyes darting between Georgia and me in question. I guess it’s not every day they get stopped so someone can strip where they stand.

“Just a quick breather,” I reply, already kicking off my boots and unfastening my pants.

“And you need to be naked for that?”

I laugh, the sound rumbling deep in my chest. “Not quite. I’m about to put my fur coat on,” I say, giving him a wink as I drop my pants. Before anyone can question further, the transformation begins, and in an instant, my human form yields to the powerful physique of my wolf.

But here, the shift greets me like a lover—no pain, only power. The forest wants me to be a wolf. The usual pain is muted, replaced by a strange euphoria. Bones shift and muscles contort in their usual dance, but it settles almost immediately into a comfortable, empowering form.

Yes, Kane purrs. This place knows us. Knows what we are meant to be.

Standing before them, my fur bristles slightly in the cool, misty air. Georgia reaches out, her fingers skimming through my thick fur, a small gesture but one filled with an intimacy that transcends our human forms. “Show off,” she teases, but I can feel her gratitude flowing through our bond.

I nuzzle my snout gently against her hand, the deep rumble in my throat expressing the contentment that words no longer can.

As her fingers linger in my fur, I feel the subtle pulse of her heart synchronize with mine.

Scarlett and Ethan exchange amused glances at our display, and even Darius can’t help but crack a smile at our antics.

“You are one big motherfucking wolf,” he says with an appreciative nod. My tail sways with a sense of pride at the acknowledgment, and I let out a low, agreeable growl.

Georgia gathers my clothing and stuffs it in our pack. Before she can slide it on her back, Ethan takes it from her and slings it over one shoulder.

“Why don’t you ever strip down and carry me when I get tired?” Ethan teases Scarlett as I lower myself so Georgia can climb on my back.

Scarlett rolls her eyes. “In your dreams, buddy.”

“Every single night,” Ethan mutters under his breath, just loud enough for my enhanced hearing to catch. I catch Scarlett’s cheeks reddening slightly before she turns away, pretending to study the forest path ahead.

Georgia grins as she settles firmly between my shoulder blades, her hands gripping the dense fur tightly.

“Now that’s cool,” Darius says, his voice tinged with genuine awe as he cranes his neck to look up at us.

“I agree,” Amara puts in with a smile. “If it wasn’t for the fated mate part, I’d suggest you became a vessel just so you could carry me like that.”

Amara’s comment sends a ripple of laughter through the group until Scarlett pauses and tilts her head. “Wait. Is Darius human?”

Darius chuckles. “Last time I checked, yes, but don’t let that turn you away. I have other skills that make it worth Amara’s time to keep me around.” He winks at Scarlett, who rolls her eyes but is clearly amused.

“Ready when you are, big guy,” Amara says, nodding toward me.

I let out a soft woof in response, and we all continue our trek with Amara in the lead.

Georgia settles more comfortably on my back after a few steps.

Her weight is nothing to my wolf form, and I can already sense her relief at being off her feet, along with the sharp pain in her leg fading to a dull ache.

The forest seems to part before us as we move, my powerful strides eating up the distance with ease. Georgia leans into me, her body relaxing as she lets out a heavy sigh.

I feel her thoughts drifting to Luna, and I sense a longing there—a desire to one day experience the freedom of being a wolf instead of a passenger.

It’ll happen for you, love, I project to her. Hopefully sooner than we thought.

She scratches behind my ear in response, a gesture that sends a pleasant shiver down my spine. “Thank you,” she whispers, loud enough for only my wolf ears to hear.

As we continue our journey, the landscape around us begins to shift subtly.

The ancient trees grow taller, their branches intertwining overhead to form a dense canopy that filters the sunlight into dreamlike beams. The air becomes thicker, charged with an energy that makes my fur stand on end.

I can taste copper on my tongue, feel a pressure against my chest like diving deep underwater.

The magic here is so thick it’s almost visible, shimmering at the edges of my vision.

I catch glimpses of movement in the shadows—eyes that gleam gold before disappearing, shapes that are there one moment and gone the next. We’re being watched, assessed.

They circle us, Kane confirms. Testing. Waiting.

The others feel it too, their steps become more cautious, their voices hushed.

Even Georgia, secure on my back, tenses slightly, her fingers tightening in my fur.

The úlfhéenar territory is close, I can feel it in my bones.

As we round a bend in the path, the energy in the air intensifies, and I know we’ve reached a crucial point in our journey.

As if in answer to all of our questioning minds, Amara holds up a hand, signaling us to stop. “From here on, we need to be especially cautious. The úlfhéenar are... particular about uninvited guests.”

Sensing the gravity of the moment, I lower myself to the ground, allowing Georgia to slide off my back. She does so with a mix of reluctance and understanding, her hand lingering in my fur for a moment longer.

“I suppose it’s time for you to put your human face back on,” she says.

I nod my large wolf head, then shift back.

The change is harder this time—as if the magic of this place wants to keep me in my wolf shape.

It’s disorienting, like swimming against a strong current, but I manage it quickly.

In moments, I’m standing on two legs again, and the backpack Ethan was carrying for us lands at my feet.

“Make yourself decent, man,” he teases, and I thank him before quickly pulling on my clothes. When I’m done, I shoulder the pack and reach for Georgia’s hand.

“Ready?” I ask, looking not just at Georgia but at our entire group.

Scarlett and Ethan nod, their postures tense but determined. I notice Scarlett’s hand hovering near her hip where she likely has a knife, while Ethan’s muscles are coiled tight, ready to shift at a moment’s notice.

Darius and Amara exchange a glance, a silent conversation passing between them.

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Amara says finally, turning back to face the path ahead. “Remember, let me do the talking at first. The úlfhéenar respect old alliances, and while they may not welcome us with open arms, they should at least hear us out.”

With a collective deep breath, we step forward, crossing the invisible threshold into úlfhéenar territory.

The air seems to shimmer around us, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’re being watched from every shadow, every rustling leaf.

The eyes I glimpsed earlier multiply, with dozens of them now, tracking our every move.

A shiver runs down my spine. Through the memories Kane and I share, I know of stories about the úlfhéenar—tales of massive wolves, more beast than man, guardians of ancient magics and keepers of forgotten lore.

They’re callous and brutal, rumored to rip apart those who trespass without regard.

But they are also deeply honorable, bound by codes as old as the mountains under which they reside.

We continue deeper into the woods, our steps muffled by the mossy undergrowth. The deeper we go, the more palpable the silence becomes, as if even the forest knows not to disturb the sanctity of this ancient place.

A twig cracks not far from us and Darius jerks his head toward the sound. “They’re close. They’ll have known we’re here from the moment we crossed into their lands.”

“What should we expect?” I ask, my grip on Georgia tightening, my need to protect her clawing against the inside of my skin.

“Expect them to challenge us,” he replies, his voice low and eyes wary. “But if they decide we’re a threat...” His brow furrows, and he doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t need to.

Amara steps forward, her eyes glowing silver as she raises her hands, palms facing outward, and begins to chant in a language I don’t recognize.

The air around us thickens and shimmers.

“Say nothing unless addressed directly,” Darius whispers, his gaze fixed on the shifting shadows between the dense trees.

We all fall silent, watching as the atmosphere around Amara pulses with power. Her chanting grows louder, her voice reverberating in a cadence that feels like it speaks directly to this forest.

The shadows still, and for a moment, nothing happens.

Then, a howl splits the air—deep, primal, and unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. It’s answered by another, then another, until the mountains themselves seem to vibrate with the sound.

Georgia’s grip on my arm tightens. “Ryan,” she whispers, a tremor in her voice.

I look down.

And her eyes glow.

Not with our bond’s golden warmth, but a fierce silver that hits me like a lightning strike.

Luna.

Mate awakens, Kane says with something like reverence. This place calls to her.

Before I can react, a massive shape emerges from the mist ahead. A wolf, larger than any I’ve ever seen, its fur a mix of steel gray and snow white. Its eyes, a startling shade of amber, fix on us with an intelligence that’s unmistakably human.

Behind it, more shapes appear—an entire pack of these giant wolves, their collective presence so overwhelming that even with my alpha instincts, I almost tilt my head to bare my throat in submission.

I see Scarlett take a step back, her face pale, while Ethan’s hand goes to his chest as if he can’t breathe.

The lead wolf—easily the size of a small car—takes a step forward.

Its form shimmers and shifts until he stands on two feet, tall and broad-shouldered, his wolfish features softened into something more human yet still distinctly otherworldly.

His gaze remains locked on Georgia, piercing and unblinking.

“Who dares to enter the realm of the úlfhéenar?”