Page 4 of Curses and Casualties (Hunters Hollow #3)

As we approach my apartment building, it’s like I’m walking through someone else’s memory. The familiar facade looks unchanged, yet everything about being here feels different. Ryan’s arm tightens around my waist, his eyes scanning the area with predatory intensity.

“We should split up,” Ethan suggests as we near the building. “Scarlett and I can scout the perimeter while you two stay here and scout the entrance.”

Ryan nods in agreement. “Good idea. Keep your eyes peeled for anything suspicious. If you see any sign of pack activity, don’t engage. We need to stay invisible.”

As Ethan and Scarlett disappear around the corner, I lean into Ryan’s side, my gaze wandering to the tall, brick-and-ivy-covered building.

It’s crazy to think that only a few short weeks ago I was living a relatively normal life within those walls.

Now I’m bonded to an incredible man and caught in the crossfire of an ancient prophecy.

Ryan’s hand finds mine, fingers entwining, offering silent support. I squeeze his hand in return and turn to look at him. “How do you want to play this?”

His gaze is still focused on the building, eyes narrowed as he assesses our surroundings. “Ideally, we just get to go in, get what we need, and get out without anyone even knowing we were here. But I don’t know. Something feels off.”

I feel a shiver crawl up my spine, a primal instinct alerting me to danger. This is new too—the ability to sense potential threats, an eerie gift that’s become a part of my increasingly supernatural existence.

Danger scent on the wind, Luna confirms, her hackles rising in my mind. But old. Faded. Maybe yesterday.

“I feel it too,” I murmur, suddenly aware of the ominous quiet that’s fallen over the street. The usual city noises are muted, as if the world itself is holding its breath.

Ryan shifts closer, his free hand instinctively moving to the small of my back. “Stay behind me,” he instructs, voice steady despite the rising tension.

“But—”

“Georgia,” he interrupts. His eyes are hard, but there’s an urgency in them, a plea for my cooperation.

For a moment, I want to argue, to assert that I’m not the same woman he fell in love with anymore.

That I’m stronger now, more capable. But then I understand that this isn’t about strength or capability.

Ryan is steeling himself for the worst-case scenario.

He’s up against the unknown, and his primary instinct is to protect me—to protect us.

I nod quietly, swallowing the lump in my throat. “OK.”

No sooner have the words left my mouth than a flurry of movement catches my eye.

A shadow darts across the entrance of the alley next to the building.

My heart leaps into my throat, adrenaline surging through my veins, and I instinctively move behind Ryan.

He tenses, every muscle in his body coiling like a spring ready to burst as he crouches slightly.

His eyes are locked onto the alley’s entrance, watching, waiting. And then, the shadow moves again. Darting out from the alley and into the morning light.

A cat. A lanky, disgruntled-looking tabby cat steps onto the sidewalk, its tail flicking irritably as it blinks at us with an air of vague disdain. The tension drains from Ryan’s posture, and he rises from his crouch with a sheepish grin.

“I guess we jumped the gun a little,” he admits, scratching the back of his head.

I can’t help but laugh as I move to stand next to him. “Hey, that cat could’ve been a shapeshifter,” I say, giggling when Ryan mock-glares at me.

“You think that’s funny, do you?”

“Oh no,” I manage to say through my giggles. “I think it’s hilarious!”

He huffs but there’s no heat in it.

Just as our laughter begins to fade, the sound of footsteps echo from around the corner of the building. Ryan’s body tenses again, his stance shifting slightly as he prepares for another potential threat. But instead, Ethan and Scarlett emerge from the shadows, their expressions relaxed.

“Coast is clear,” Ethan announces. “Anything out front?”

“Nothing,” Ryan says quickly, shooting me a warning glance that I can’t help but ignore.

“Except a very suspicious feline,” I add, grinning.

Ethan raises an eyebrow. “What kind of feline?”

“A tabby cat,” Ryan answers, his tone firm and serious, as though we’d had a run-in with an actual threat. Then, turning to me, he narrows his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching in an attempt to stifle a grin. ‘ You’re going to pay for that later, ’ he tells me through our bond.

A shiver of anticipation runs through me as his words echo in my head, making me grin wider. ‘ Can’t wait, ’ I shoot back, just as Scarlett chimes in.

“Enough of the mind talking, you two. We have supplies to gather here. That tiny breakfast we had barely touched the sides.”

As if on cue, my stomach growls, echoing her sentiment.

Ryan chuckles, pulling me closer to him with an arm around my waist. “Guess we better get to it then.” He scans the area one last time.

“Georgia and Ethan, you go inside. Scarlett and I will keep watch out here. If anything feels off, Georgia and I can alert each other through the bond.”

I nod, trying to quell the nervous flutter in my stomach. “OK. Let’s do this.”

Ryan releases me reluctantly. “Be careful, love. In and out, remember?”

“I remember,” I assure him, squeezing his hand before following Ethan toward the building’s entrance.

As we climb the stairs to my floor, every creak and groan of the old building sets my nerves on edge.

Ethan moves with silent grace beside me, his whole body transformed from the casual friend at breakfast to a predator on the hunt.

His shoulders are loose but ready, each step placed with deliberate care to minimize sound.

Even in human form, he radiates that dangerous wolf energy—alert, deadly, protective.

At my door, I fumble with my keys, my hands shaking slightly. Ethan places a steadying hand on my shoulder. “Take a deep breath,” he whispers. “I’ve got your back.”

I nod, inhaling deeply before sliding the key into the lock. The door swings open with a familiar creak, revealing the dim interior of my apartment. Everything looks exactly as I left it, yet it feels like stepping into a stranger’s home.

The scent hits me first—vanilla candles, lavender detergent, the earthy comfort of old paperbacks. It should feel like return. Instead, it just feels strange, like I don’t really belong here anymore. Luna stirs uneasily, finding the familiar human scents both comforting and wrong somehow.

Was home. Now just a den we used to know, she observes, and I feel a pang of loss for the simple life I’d lived here.

“Let’s make this quick,” Ethan says, gently ushering me inside and locking the door behind him. He immediately moves into what I recognize as a defensive position, keeping himself between me and any potential entry points.

We move efficiently through the apartment, gathering cash, clothes, and supplies. I stuff everything into my largest backpack, trying to prioritize necessities over sentimentality.

As I reach for a framed photo of my family, a floorboard creaks out in the hall. Ethan and I freeze, exchanging alarmed glances.

“Did you hear that?” I whisper.

‘Ryan!’ I send urgently through our bond. ‘ Someone’s outside my apartment!’

His response is immediate, concern flooding through our connection. ‘ Get out. Now.’

But Ethan’s already moving, his body coiled with tension, eyes flashing amber as his wolf rises close to the surface. He holds a finger to his lips, then slowly moves toward the front door with the fluid grace of a hunter stalking prey.

My heart pounds in my chest as Ethan looks through the peephole while I strain to listen for any further sounds. The silence stretches, broken only by the faint ticking of a clock in the living room.

After what feels like an eternity, Ethan relaxes slightly. “Must have been the building settling,” he murmurs. “We should go.”

I nod, zipping up the backpack and slinging it over my shoulder. “Yeah, let’s?—”

The words die in my throat as Ethan pulls the front door open and a familiar figure stands silhouetted in the doorway. I gasp.

“What are you doing here?”