Chapter 11


A knock on my door wakes me up. “Go away,” I yell pulling the covers over my head. Instead of going away the knocking gets louder, until whoever it is walks in without permission. Assuming that it is my brother or my mother, I just growl loudly hoping they leave.

The blankets are roughly pulled off my body and faster than they can think, I grab them around the throat and slam them up against the wall. My Beta, Boris raises his hands in defeat. “It’s just me,” he gasps as my hand still remains tightened around his neck.

Dropping him to the ground, I pace back to my bed and drop down on the mattress. “Why are you here so early on a Sunday?”

“You are the one that called me on a Saturday night,” he reminds me.

Propping myself up on my elbows, I shrug my shoulders. “What did you find out then?”

Sitting himself down on chair in front of my fireplace he pulls out a file from his jacket. “Walter Nash, 79 years old. Ex Hunter. Stopped hunting about ten years ago.
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