AnastasiaThe smell of roasted meat and firewood hangs thick in the air as dinner gets served. I watch the others shuffle toward the long tables inside the main tent, the usual setup for high-ranking hunters. Pete’s already there, flanked by his favorites, the polished silverware clinking like some kind of performance.Pete's laughing at something one of the hunters says, like always, like nothing’s changed. His hands move easily, slicing meat, passing bread, playing the part. But his eyes, his eyes are doing something else entirely. He watches who talks to who, who looks away too quick, who hesitates before answering. Like the cracks he’s pretending don’t exist are starting to show, and he’s keeping track of every single one.Then his gaze finds me.It lingers. Just a beat longer than it should.Then comes the nod. Small. Barely there. But I see it.And so does Isaac.His jaw tightens. His hand curls around his fork. He’s doing a poor job of hiding the way it bothers him. A nod shou
AnastasiaWhen I see, Isaac instructing the group of new recruits that I will lead, I walk to them. Isaac is one of the men of Pete's inner circle, the most trusted one... his second in command until now. He doesnt know it yet now I am going to lead these hunters and he has been removed from the position. He’s got that usual puffed-up stance, acting like he owns the place. "Isaac," I say, voice even, polite. "Can you please step aside? I need to inform you of something."He doesn’t even look at me at first. Keeps talking like I don’t exist. His voice rolls on, loud, trying to assert dominance or whatever. When he finally turns, it’s with this tight, annoyed frown."You need to wait, girl," he says, all clipped and full of venom. "I’m talking to my hunters."I tilt my head, crossing my arms. "Actually, you’re talking to my hunters."He snorts like he misheard me. “What?”"You were second in command," I say, keeping my gaze steady on him. “But not anymore. I’m leading from the front
AnastasiaI sit inside the tent, the fabric flapping a little every time the wind picks up.Pete sits across from me, arms folded, his brow pulled tight like he’s been chewing on a question for a while.He finally says, “So… when exactly are you bringing the Luna to me?”I glance up at him, one brow lifting. “Straight to the point, huh?”He shrugs, trying to play it cool, but there’s that twitch in his jaw that gives away how badly he wants answers.I let a smirk tug at my lips, slow and amused. “Well, don’t worry, Chief. I have promised you that I will make you meet the Luna and I don't go back on my words.” Arching an eyebrow, I lean back a little in the chair. “So, consider you’ve already met the Luna.”But before he can say anything else, I tilt my head slightly and ask, “But before we get back to the business, mind telling me something?”His mouth opens, but I keep going.“Why did Ethan say you asked him to spy on me?”The smirk fades from my lips, not all the way, but enough tha
JakeI turn just in time to catch the moment Anastasia slices off Ethan’s tongue. One clean motion, no hesitation. She stands there with blood on her hands like it’s just another Tuesday. There’s no flicker of emotion on her face. No regret, no fear. Just calm.It should freak me out. I guess part of me knows that. I should probably be worried about how easy it is for her to go savage like that. How her face doesn’t change one bit, like this kind of violence is second nature to her.How she is like an epitome of calmness while someone else is bleeding out in front of her.But I don’t feel any of that, and why would I? Because I am not any different than her. The only difference is that I have a beast inside me, while she is... just her.But what I actually feel is pride.And yeah, it’s not just pride. Watching her like this...Blood on her hands, sharp eyes, chin lifted just slightly like she knows exactly who the hell she is? It’s hot. She’s not even trying, but she looks like some ki
AnastasiaJake’s body stays unnervingly still under my hands, like he’s turned into stone. His breath evens out, and his head tilts, barely moving. My heart starts picking up, but I keep my voice low.“Did you hear anything?” I whisper, my lips brushing his jaw as I speak.He doesn’t answer. His eyes flick over my shoulder, scanning the trees behind us like he’s reading a language written in shadows.Then he gives a small nod. Barely anything, but I catch it.“We’re not alone,” he mutters, his voice just above a breath. A frown tugs at the corner of his mouth. “But I don’t catch any scent.”I pull away from him, my spine snapping straight. My fingers curl around the dagger at my hip, and I slide it free, the cold metal steady in my grip.“That’s because it’s a hunter,” I tell him, eyes narrowing as I sweep the woods. My voice drops a little lower, sharp and quiet. “We use a mix of chemicals and herbs. It covers our scent. Makes it harder for wolves to pick up on us.”Jake shifts, his
AnastasiaI force myself to stop. My feet itch to move, to follow the pull that's humming through my chest like a low drumbeat I can’t shut off, but I freeze and spin on my heel instead. My eyes scan the camp. I need to make sure no one follows me.Most of them are caught up in their own stuff, but a couple heads turn my way when I stood up as if they expect me to order them.“I’m just gonna check around the camp, make sure everything’s in place. Then I’m heading to my tent.” My voice comes out firm. A few people nod. Someone mutters a distracted “Okay.” No one questions it. Good. The last thing I need right now is someone tagging along.I walk off, keeping my pace normal even though everything in me wants to run toward that pull. It’s messing with me. It’s him. I know it. There’s no other explanation for why every inch of me is buzzing like I’ve just had five cups of coffee.Jake better not be here. He really, really better not.Because if he is, I don’t know what I’m gonna do fi