Page 49 of The Fated Hunter Wolf

“Another fucking riddle.”

“A contradiction. And you have one written in your stars. A walking contradiction with fate around her neck like a noose.”

My wolf reared back.

“She is a Crux enforcer.” Mariyah picked up a stick, poking at the dying fire. “Sworn to find and shield the lost ones. Protecting them from the forces who come for all powerful wolves.” She glanced up. “Forces who have even come for you.”

My head spun, too many pieces floating in my head while the bond still stabbed at me from the inside. Eve and Sable, bothCrux. The silver magic she threw at my chest. The way she’d pushed me away.

I didn’t know whose word to believe. My fated mate claiming she killed my brothers, or this witch wolf saying she didn’t. I couldn’t trust either of them, but one of them was telling the truth.

I lurched toward her, questions burning on my tongue. My legs gave out, sending me crashing to my knees.

“What’s… happening…” I gasped. Pain speared through my chest, molten and raw.

“I remind you that you rejected her.” Mariyah seemed unsurprised. “The rejection devours you from within. The bond fights to repair itself, but without her, it tears at your soul like a trapped animal.”

I curled inward, a groan escaping between clenched teeth. It was like I was being torn apart, cell by cell.

“How do I…” I panted. “Make it… stop?”

“You don’t.” Mariyah came to kneel beside me, her cloak brushing my skin. “Not without her.”

Through the haze of pain, a clarity hit me. “You’re saying I need her.”

“I’m saying you’ll die without her. As she will without you.” She sighed. “And if you both die, the curse will never break. Your brothers will remain trapped. Your pack will slowly wither to nothing. Your alpha and his mate will never bear children.” She leaned closer. “Blah, blah, blah.”

I struggled to my knees, then my feet, swaying like a drunk. “And what’s your stake in this? Why do you care if we live or die?”

Mariyah went still. For a moment, she seemed to be listening to something I couldn’t hear, her head tilted. Then her eyes snapped to the darkness beyond the clearing, pupils dilating.

“They’ve found us,” she hissed. “Your alpha scent clings to you like a beacon. In these lands, that’s as good as a dinner bell.”

“What are you?—”

“I can’t stay. You’ve taken an awful lot of my time, son of a little king, and now we’ve attracted attention I can’t afford.” She moved faster than should have been possible. Her hand shot out, fingers digging into my jaw with inhuman strength.

“You will go to Sable because without her, everything falls.” Her voice had changed, layered with others that echoed beneath her own. “You will go to her because the blood curse must be broken. You will go to her because she is yours and you are hers, and together you will either save your kind or watch them burn.”

I tried to pull away, but her grip was like iron. Power rolled off her, making my wolf whimper and retreat.

“Go to her,” Mariyah said, her voice her own again, “before the wound becomes a scar. Before what can be healed becomes permanently broken. The night is half-spent, bringing new hunters.”

The fire flared, then died completely, plunging the clearing into darkness. When my eyes adjusted, Mariyah was gone. Only the lingering scent of ash and cloves remained.

And something else. Something that made my wolf’s hackles rise.

Death. Cold and hungry and getting closer.

Three shapes emerged from the tree line—pale, lean, moving with predatory grace. Their eyes reflected the moonlight, and when they smiled, I caught the glint of fangs.

Vampires. Low-ranking by their scent, but vampires nonetheless.

“Well, well,” the tallest one purred, his accent carrying centuries of decay. “What have we here? A lost little wolf, reeking of alpha bloodlines.”

My wolf surged forward, bones cracking as I began to shift. They were already moving, faster than my eyes could keep up with.

The first one reached me before my transformation was complete, his claws raking across my ribs. I roared, half-human, half-wolf, and caught him by the throat. My claws punched through his pale skin, black blood spurting out.