Captured

The journey is long, and I feel every mile of it in my bones.

My hands are bound, thick rope digging into my wrists as I ride behind the Beta. My own horse was taken, replaced by one of theirs—a massive black stallion that moves with unnatural grace. A wolf in its own way.

To my left, my dog, wolf was locked up in a cage made out of bones.

Disgusting.

I don't speak. Not at first.

There's no point.

The Beta—who still hasn't given me his name—doesn't seem like the type to entertain conversation. His wolves keep their distance but never stray far, their presence a silent reminder that escape is impossible.

Not yet, at least.

The forest around us thickens, the trees pressing in, shadows lengthening as the sun sinks lower in the sky. I count the hours, watching for any signs of where we're going.

But then, as night settles, something changes.

The scent of fire and food fills the air. Laughter drifts through the trees. A flickering glow dances between the branches.

A settlement. No—something bigger.

A gathering.

The Beta pulls his horse to a stop at the crest of a small hill, the rest of his pack slowing behind him. Below us, nestled in a clearing, is a sprawling estate—a massive stone manor surrounded by smaller outbuildings.

Figures move between them, some human, some shifting seamlessly into wolves. A bonfire blazes at the center of it all, casting long, twisting shadows against the walls.

A party.

"What is this?" I finally ask, my voice rough from hours of silence.

The Beta glances at me over his shoulder, amusement flickering in his golden eyes. "A celebration."

"For what?"

He smirks. "For us."

A chill runs down my spine.

Us.

Not just his pack—werewolves.

And I, a hunter, am being dragged straight into the heart of it.

My fingers flex against the ropes at my wrists. I can't be here. I need to get away before—

"We're stopping for the night." The Beta swings down from his horse, his movements easy, unbothered. "Try to behave, little hunter."

I scowl. "Or what?"

He leans in, just enough to remind me how much taller, how much stronger he is. "Or I'll make you."

I hate him. I hate all of them. Their kind brought fear and anxiety to the human world.

People often looked over their shoulders when walking. When the sun sets, our shadows becomes our worst enemies. That was why centuries ago a group of elders came together and formed the first hunters, picking the strongest men of each clan to join.

My great grandfather, and his best friend led the first hunt,killing over a hundred and fifty wolves in a single decade, making both families the most respected family up till date.

That reputation is what has brought me here today.

But for now, I have no choice but to follow.

He unties my wrists—but before I can make a move, two wolves close in on either side of me. Not touching, but close enough that I know what will happen if I run.

So I don't.

Not yet.

I lift my chin and step forward, following them into the firelit chaos below.

—

The air is thick with smoke and music, the scent of roasted meat mingling with something sharper—ale, blood, the wild musk of too many wolves in one place.

I move through the crowd like a ghost, ignored by some, watched by others. My clothes are still travel-worn, my hair tangled from the wind. I stand out.

The Beta doesn't seem to care. He strides ahead of me, exchanging nods and words with other wolves, his posture relaxed.

I scan the crowd. Looking for weapons, for weaknesses. Looking for a way out.

Then—

"Beta Cian."

A voice smooth as silk cuts through the noise.

The Beta—Cian—turns, and so do I.

A woman stands before us, tall and willowy, her dark hair cascading in perfect waves. She's dressed in black, the fabric clinging to her in a way that is both elegant and dangerous.

Her lips curve into a smile as she eyes me.

"And what have you brought us?"

Cian tilts his head. "A gift."

I stiffen.

The woman's gaze drags over me, slow and assessing. "A hunter," she muses. "Interesting."

I set my jaw. "I'm not a gift."

She laughs, light and amused, before looking back at Cian. "Does Zain know?"

"He will."

Her smile lingers. "Then I suppose she's under our hospitality for the night." She steps closer, lifting a hand as if to touch me—

I jerk back.

Another laugh. This time, there's something sharp beneath it.

Cian sighs. "Be nice, Selene."

Selene. I rolled my eyes. Typical of her to have the same name as their goddess, yet I file the name away, tucking it beside Cian's.

Two wolves I now know.

Two wolves I might have to kill.

"I'm always nice," she purrs. Then, to me, "Enjoy the party, little hunter. It may be your last."

And with that, she's gone, disappearing into the crowd.

Cian exhales. "That went well."

I glare at him. "Am I supposed to thank you?"

He grins. "Would it kill you to try?"

I don't answer.

I just look around, at the sea of wolves, at the firelight flickering against their eyes.

I am prey among predators.

But they don't know me.

Not yet.

And before the night is over—before I reach Alpha Zain—maybe I won't be the only one bleeding.

The party grows wilder as the night deepens. Music thrums through the air, laughter spilling between the firelit shadows. Wolves move in a blur of motion—some dancing, some drinking, some watching, others whispered "hunter, human." With pure hatred in their tone.

I don't blame them for it, if a group of wolves kill humans the same way we hunt them, I'll probably drink poison and die than Be in their presence.

But instead now my head and stay still. I stay quiet. I wait.

Wolf presses close to my leg, his body tense beneath my fingers. They hadn't chained him, but they hadn't let him go either. He was a curiosity to them, a strange beast walking beside a hunter. Some of the wolves had tried to get close, to test him, but one sharp growl had been enough to send them away.

Smart.

I glance at Cian, who has made himself comfortable at a long wooden table. He drinks, he smirks, he watches me from the corner of his eye. But he doesn't interfere.

Not yet.

Selene lingers nearby, talking in hushed tones with another wolf—tall, broad, his features marked with deep scars. He looks like someone I don't want to meet in a dark alley.

Or anywhere.

Wolf growls low under his breath, ears flicking.

I follow his gaze.

A pair of wolves are watching me, their eyes gleaming with amusement. Drunk, judging by the sway in their steps.

Not a threat.

Not unless they get too close.

One of them nudges the other and grins. "What's a hunter doing here, all dressed up like a prisoner?"

I don't answer.

I'm not in the mood for conversation.

The other one leans in. "Bet she's a plaything for the Alpha."

I stiffen.

Cian moves before I can react.

His chair scrapes against the ground as he stands, slow and deliberate, his expression unchanged—but there's something new in his eyes. A warning.

"She's my prisoner," he says, voice light, almost amused. "Not yours."

The wolves exchange glances.

"She's just a hunter—"

Cian's smile sharpens. "I don't repeat myself."

A beat of silence.

Then, with grumbles and muttered curses, the two wolves slink away.

I exhale, tension still coiled tight in my shoulders.

Cian sits back down. "You're welcome."

I scowl. "I didn't need your help."

He grins. "I think you did."

I badly wanted to smack that smile away from his face. Instead I folded my fingers into a fist, knowing that if I dared to move he'll probably see it before I get the job done.

Wolf presses against my leg, his warmth grounding me. I run my fingers through his fur, keeping my breathing even.

"What's its name?" he asked nodding towards my dog.

I croaked an eyebrow before I answered. "Wolf."

A deep throaty sound erupted from him, I was startled, looking over to him in surprise.

He was laughing, with his head thrown back.

"You named your beast after what your kind hate the most? That is hilarious!"

I rolled my eyes at him.

I need to get out of here.

Now.