Page 1 of Red Hood, Bad Wolf (Cursed Kingdoms)

M oonlight silvered the forest floor as Rowan tracked her prey. Pine needles cushioned her steps. Magic stirred beneath her skin as she followed the trail of destruction—broken branches, scattered leaves, and the acrid scent of madness that all loup garou left in their wake. Her red cloak, the mark of her order, whispered against the undergrowth.

She paused, lifting her hand. A spell sparked between her fingers, crimson threads that illuminated claw marks scored deep in a nearby trunk. Fresh. She was getting close.

A howl shattered the night's silence—pain and rage twisted into something inhuman. Rowan's heart ached. Once, the wolf had been someone's daughter, someone's friend. Now the moon-madness had taken her, stripped away everything but hunger and fury.

Moving faster, Rowan’s spelled boots carried her silently through the darkness. The forest opened into a moonlit clearing, and there she found her quarry. The crazed werewolf was massive, easily twice the size of a natural wolf. Its yellow eyes were glazed with feral hunger. Foam dripped from its jaws as it circled the remains of a deer—thankfully just a deer.

"Easy now," Rowan murmured, keeping her voice low and steady. Her fingers traced sigils in the air, weaving a containment spell. "Let's see if there's anything left of you to save."

The werewolf's head snapped up. Those mad eyes fixed on Rowan, and a growl rumbled through the clearing. The sound carried no trace of humanity.

Rowan completed her spell just as the loup garou lunged. Red light flared, forming a shimmering cage around the wolf. It slammed against the magical barrier, snarling and snapping.

"I'm sorry," Rowan whispered. She pulled a silver knife from her belt, its blade etched with runes of mercy. Some Red Hoods went straight for the kill, but Rowan always tried first to reach the person trapped within the beast. She began to chant ancient words of power that could sometimes break the moon-madness.

The wolf threw itself against the barrier again and again. Blood began to mat its fur where it had hurt itself in its frenzy. Rowan pushed more power into her spell, sweat beading on her forehead as she tried to reach whatever humanity remained.

For just a moment, the glazed yellow eyes cleared. A flicker of awareness, of despair—and then it was gone, replaced by mindless rage.

Rowan's heart sank. She'd seen that look before. There was nothing left to save.

The knife flew true, guided by magic and mercy. The loup garou collapsed without a sound. As death took it, the wolf's form shimmered, revealing a young woman with tangled dark hair. Peace smoothed her features, free at last from the sickness.

Rowan knelt beside the body, murmuring the traditional blessing. "Find peace in the dark, sister. May your next life be gentler." She closed the woman's eyes and covered her with a magical shroud while she prepared the ceremonial pyre. No loup garou could be left to rise again.

Dawn was breaking when Rowan's communication crystal chimed. She answered it, recognizing the signature of her order's leadership.

"Report," said a clipped voice.

"Target eliminated. She was too far gone for rehabilitation."

"Understood." A pause. "We have another assignment. Multiple disappearances reported in the Black Pine territory. The local alpha is Alder Blackwood. He doesn’t think it’s a loup."

Rowan's spine stiffened. "A pack alpha? The last time we trusted an alpha's word—"

"We remember." The voice softened slightly. "These disappearances match loup garou patterns. Investigate. Determine if someone in his pack has turned. And Rowan? Be careful. Blackwood has a history with our order."

The crystal went dark, leaving Rowan alone with her thoughts and the rising sun. Another pack, another alpha. Her hand drifted to the scar on her side, a reminder of what happened when alphas protected their own at any cost.

She wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

***

A LDER FELT THE YOUNG wolf's distress before he heard the howl. Moon-fever, not moon-madness—there was a crucial difference. He sprinted through the trees, his pack bonds guiding him to where sixteen-year-old Danny struggled with his first transformation.

The boy was halfway between forms, fur sprouting in patches, bones cracking as they tried to reshape themselves. Terror rolled off him in waves that any wolf could scent.

"I can't—" Danny gasped, hands curled into claws. "Alpha, it hurts—"

"Breathe." Alder knelt beside him, projecting calm through their pack bond. "The moon isn't your enemy. She's part of you."

Other pack members melted from the shadows—Danny's parents, his older sister, all watching with worried eyes. Alder waved them back. Too many people would only increase the boy's anxiety.

Danny's body spasmed. "What if I can't control it? What if I hurt someone?"

The words hit too close to home. Alder's mother had asked the same questions, near the end. Before the Red Hoods—

He pushed the memory aside. Danny needed him now.

"You won't." Alder gripped the boy's shoulder, letting his alpha power flow between them. "Feel the pack bonds. We're your anchor. Let the change come naturally."

Danny's breathing steadied. His eyes, now wolf-gold, fixed on Alder's face. Slowly, the transformation smoothed out. Fur spread evenly across his body. Bones shifted with purpose rather than panic.

Where the frightened boy had been, a young werewolf now stood on shaking legs. Alder smiled and shifted his own form, leading his newest pack member on his first run beneath the full moon. The rest of the pack followed, their joyful howls celebrating the successful transformation.

Hours later, as dawn painted the sky, Alder's beta approached him at the pack house. Serenity's expression was grave.

"What is it?" he asked, already tensing.

"Red Hood spotted near our borders. Heading this way."

Ice gathered in Alder's gut. Red Hoods. Were-hunters who'd executed his mother, the order who he suspected had taken his father as well. "How many?"

"Just one. Female. The scouts say she's powerful."

Of course she was. The order never sent their weak ones. "I want to know everything about her.”

“I’ll get on that.”

“And alert the pack. No one approaches her alone." He caught her arm as she turned to go. "If she makes any aggressive moves—"

"We'll protect our own." Serenity's eyes hardened. "We always do."

Alder nodded, but unease prickled along his spine. The timing was too perfect. A Red Hood arriving just when people had started disappearing from his territory. His mother's face flashed through his memory, her eyes clear and sane even as she had been accused of moon-madness.

He wouldn't let the Red Hoods hurt his pack again.

***

T HE PACK’S WARDS WASHED over her as she crossed into Black Pine territory. Old magic, complex and well-maintained. This alpha was serious about protection.

Good. She preferred them competent. It made it easier to tell when they were lying.

The pack house rose before her, a sprawling structure of stone and wood that blended naturally into the forest. Wolves emerged from the trees, flanking her path. Not attacking, but making their presence known. She kept her pace steady, her hands loose at her sides.

A crowd had gathered in the front yard. Rowan cataloged faces, stances, potential threats. Her attention caught on a tall figure standing apart from the others—broad-shouldered, dark-haired, with sharp green eyes that watched her every move. Power rolled off him in waves.

The alpha. It had to be.

Something strange happened when their eyes met. A jolt, like lightning through her bones. His nostrils flared, and she knew he'd caught her scent just as she caught his—pine and wood smoke and something wild that made her pulse skip and warmth flood through her.

No. She wasn't here for that.

Rowan stopped at a careful distance, close enough to show she wasn't afraid, far enough to react if needed. "Alpha Blackwood. I am Rowan of the Red Hood Order. I believe you know why I'm here."

Those green eyes narrowed. "Enlighten me."

"Seven people have disappeared in your territory over the past three months. The pattern suggests—"

"Suggests what?" He stalked forward, all contained power and barely leashed anger. "That one of my pack has gone feral? That we're harboring a killer?"

Heat rolled off him in waves. This close, his scent was overwhelming, making it hard to think. "Has anyone in your pack shown signs of moon-madness?"

"No." His voice was ice over steel. "And if they did, we would handle it ourselves."

"Like the Southampton alpha handled it?" The words slipped out before she could stop them. "He protected his killer until twelve people were dead."

Alder's power flared, pressing against her shields. Some of his pack growled. "We are not Southampton."

"Prove it." Rowan met his gaze steadily, ignoring the way her body wanted to lean toward him. "Cooperate with my investigation. If no one in your pack is responsible, you have nothing to fear from me."

"Nothing to fear?" He laughed, a harsh sound. "Your kind killed my mother. Claimed she was feral when she wasn't. And my father—" He cut himself off, jaw tight.

Ah. The history her order had mentioned. "I'm sorry about your parents. But right now, people are dying. Will you help me find out why, or will you force me to investigate on my own?"

The air crackled between them, magic and tension and something else, something that made her skin tingle wherever his gaze touched. After a long moment, he growled, "Fine. But you work with me. No wandering my territory alone, no questioning my pack without me present."

"Agreed." The word tasted like surrender, but she knew a victory when she saw one. "When do we start?"

"Now." He gestured to one of his wolves, who brought forward a sealed evidence bag. Inside was a scrap of bloody fabric. "This was found an hour ago, half a mile east. Still fresh."

Rowan's pulse quickened. She reached for the bag, and their fingers brushed. Electric shock raced up her arm. From his sharp intake of breath, he'd felt it too.

Their eyes met again. In that moment, Rowan knew two things with absolute certainty: working with Alder Blackwood would be the most dangerous thing she'd ever done.

And not because he was an irate wolf with an axe to grind.

"Well?" he demanded, breaking the moment. "Can you tell anything from the blood?"

Rowan pulled her focus back to the evidence, to her mission. She had a job to do, and she'd do it—no matter how distracting her reluctant partner might be.

"I need to see the area where this was found," she said, letting magic spark between her fingers. "Lead the way, Alpha Blackwood."

His lips curved in something not quite a smile. "Try to keep up."