Chapter 2: Register

Maeve

My father’s pack had never been the largest or strongest, but we had been respected. Our healers were skilled, our lands fertile, and our warriors known for tracking prey across impossible distances.

Then Mara disappeared.

Rumors followed. Some said she had betrayed our pack. Others claimed she had become Ronan Caine’s lover and helped him murder his family.

The ugliest stories said she had begged him to choose her as his Luna, then slaughtered his arranged bride when he refused.

None of them knew Mara as I did. They had not grown up beneath the same roof.

They had not slept beside her during thunderstorms when we were children or followed her through the woods while she taught me how to cover my scent.

Mara had protected me from everything. When our father’s temper rose, she redirected it toward herself. When older pack girls mocked me for shifting late, Mara made certain they regretted it.

When I cut my palm badly while helping her prepare herbs, she held my hand, cleaned the wound, and stayed beside me until the skin began to heal.

She had been more than my sister. She had been the safest person in my world.

Ronan Caine had taken her from me.

The registrar turned the book slightly. “Pack affiliation?”

“Cross Creek.”

Another murmur passed through the women waiting behind me.

I ignored it.

“Age?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Unmated?”

“Yes.”

The word tasted bitter.

The registrar reached beneath the desk and withdrew a narrow silver blade.

Unlike the ceremonial dagger displayed beside the book, this one was plain and practical. Its handle had darkened from years of use.

“Your dominant hand.”

I set the pen down and offered my right hand.

The old woman took it without gentleness. Her fingers were cold.

“You have read the laws governing the Blood Hunt?”

“Yes.”

“You understand that participation is voluntary?”

“Yes.”

“You understand that once the final bell sounds, you may not withdraw?”

“Yes.”

Her gaze held mine. “You understand that if you reach the sanctuary before sunrise, you will be granted the rewards promised under the laws of the Hunt?”

“I do.”

“And you understand that if an Alpha captures you before sunrise, the right of mating belongs to him?”

The words seemed to echo through the vast entrance hall.

The women waiting nearby went still. Every one of us knew the rule. Some had entered because of it.

A young blonde near the foot of the staircase smiled dreamily as though she were already imagining which powerful Alpha might throw her over his shoulder and carry her home.

Another woman, this one with a scar cutting through her eyebrow, looked as though she wanted to be caught about as much as I did.

The Blood Hunt did not deceive anyone. Its laws were brutal, but they were clear. Run and win. Or be taken.

I had known the price before leaving Cross Creek. I had accepted it the moment I stepped onto Blackthorne land.

“I understand.”

The registrar drew the blade across my thumb. Pain stung through my hand. A bead of blood formed against my skin.

She pressed my thumb beside my name. The parchment drank it in.

For one terrible second, the blood remained bright red. Then it darkened to black. A faint pulse of magic passed through the page and climbed into my hand.

The registration book recognized me.

There would be no turning back now.

The registrar released my wrist.

“Maeve Cross of Cross Creek Pack, you are registered as a participant in the seventy-third Blood Hunt.”

Someone behind me whispered my name.

I picked up the small black card the registrar slid across the desk.

The number twenty-seven had been stamped across the front in silver.

“Your room is on the third floor,” she continued. “Participants are expected in the eastern ballroom at ten o’clock for the oath ceremony. The Hunt begins at midnight. Until then, you are forbidden from leaving the mansion grounds.”

I tucked the card into the pocket sewn into the side of my dress. “And the Alphas?”

Her expression became even colder. “What about them?”

“Are they already here?”

Several women turned more openly now.

The registrar studied me. “The hunters arrived before sunset.”

My wolf stirred beneath my skin. Not fear. Not exactly. She had spent three years pacing inside me, restless and furious each time another trail led nowhere.

Tonight, she was alert. Ready.

“Which Alphas?” I asked.

The registrar’s brows rose. “The official list will be announced during the oath ceremony.”

“I’m asking about one.”

“I assumed you were.” Her gaze returned to the name I had written.

I leaned closer to the desk. “Is Ronan Caine here?”