Chapter Three

This wasn't her first hunt but it felt different.

But it made her stomach wobble. So she turned away, as she felt the vomit rising in her throat, the image of the dying wolf had seared into her mind now: the movement of the arrow into the wolf, the blood, the dimming of sad and the way the old eyes shut close.

And finally the wolf had turned, which had never happened before. It turned into an elderly woman before it died.

Garrick stood over the body of the wolf that had now turned into the body, and with a lot of satisfaction across his face he said. “And that is how you win,” he said coldly. “Mercy has no place in this world, that my dear js what you should always remember.”

Irvine pressed a fist to her mouth, fighting back the urge to puke.

Meanwhile the both of them weren't the only ones in the forest that morning.

*****

Jeweled had smelt them even before he saw them.

The two riders. One of them smelt fully human not just that he smelt of power and hunger. While the other one smelled different. Her scent caught him off guard, it was clear and bright beneath the cold foggyness of the morning. He walked closer to them in his wolf form, he was as silent as shadow, and his paws sinking into mud.

From behind the trees, he saw them: Garrick Liason, the infamous hunter, and at his side the girl.

Jeweled’s lips curled back in a snarl, though he kept it silent. He knew the man, everyone did. Liason had spilled more wolf blood than any other hunter alive. His name was a curse whispered in packs.

But it wasn’t Garrick who made Jeweled freeze. It was her. The girl who was riding with him.

The girl had moved with a hunter’s discipline, she had steady steps, bow was ready, but her eyes… her eyes were alive with something else. It wasn't cruelty. Or hunger. It was Doubt.

Jeweled bent low, his golden gaze fixed on her as the scene unfolded.

The old wolf had stumbled into view, its ribs were sharp beneath its fur, fully gray with age. It wasn't a threat it was just another wolf trying to survive in a world that was too cruel for the weak.

Garrick raised his hands, barking for the girl to take the shot. Jeweled body tensed, ready to leap, to tear through them both if she obeyed. His body vibrated with anger, and claws dug deep into the soil.

But she didn’t.

Her hands shook and her bow hesitated. And in her hesitation, Jeweled saw something he hadn’t seen in any hunter before… mercy.

Garrick’s snarl split the air, his command sharp. The girl flinched but didn’t release.

And then the man ripped the bow from her grip and fired himself.

The arrow sank deep into its chest, the wolf cried, and the forest fell silent.

Jeweled lowered his head, grief and rage burning in equal measure. This was another life gone at the hand of the hunter, it was another lesson in human cruelty. But it wasn’t the kill that held him rooted to the shadows, it was her.

The way her shoulders sagged. The way her face crumpled, pale and stricken. And the way her eyes just for a flicker glowed faintly gold.

His breath caught.

Wolf.

She didn’t know it, couldn’t know it, but he saw the truth plain as the sun. She was something else. Something that didn’t belong in that man’s shadow.

Jeweled’s heart beat heavier as she turned away, shaking, while Garruck’s gloated over the corpse.

He had come only to watch, to scout the hunters who prowled his woods. But now… now he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

The hunter’s daughter. The girl with mercy in her hands and a wolf hiding in her blood.

And whether she knew it or not, her life was no longer just her own.

*******

The ride home was very quiet,

They returned to the estate before midday, and silence stretched between them. Garrick rode with the calm of a man satisfied with his work. While Irvine kept her gaze on the horizon, jaw clenched, and her mind troubled.

This wasn't her first hunt but something about this one was different

At the estate Mara was waiting when they reached the gates. She took one look at Irvine who looked pale, shaken, and silent, she smirked.

“Did you enjoy your special hunt, sister?” she asked sweetly, her words were everything but sweet.

Irvine brushed past her without reply, but Mara’s laughter followed her up the stairs like a shadow.

That night, Irvine sat on a chair in her room, staring at her hands. They still shook from the hunt. And from the kill. From the way her father’s voice had cracked through her, it wa sharsh, commanding, and heartless. The way he sound still rang in her ears, a reminder that his word was law and her hesitation was weakness.

She should have felt proud because Garrick Laison had chosen her, and even called her his little dove, taken her on a special hunt. It was supposed to mean she was special, stronger, worthy of his legacy. For years she had longed for his approval, fought to be seen through his hard, exacting eyes.

But pride was the farthest thing from what she felt in her chest now.

All she felt now was wrong. Everything he had thought her now felt wrong

The wolf’s eyes wouldn’t leave her. They were behind her eyelids every time she blinked, pale and dimming yet alive with something she couldn’t name. It wasn't rage, not fear, something almost human. A plea, maybe or a question. They nibbled at her, singling her out, until she pressed her fists against her temples just to make them stop.

She rose abruptly, the chair scraping the floor, and she began to pace. Restless energy moving under her skin, vibrating in her veins like a sickness. The room felt too small, her body too alive, her blood too hot. It was as if she was coming apart from the inside, as if her bones didn’t quite fit her skin anymore.

Then she caught her reflection in the mirror.

And once again, her eyes glowed gold.

She saw it clearly and her breath caught. She stumbled back, clutching the bedpost so hard her knuckles hurt. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, that’s not a dream, I saw that clearly.”

And she was right, something inside her was waking up, clawing, begging to be freed.

Irvine knew, with a certainty that chilled her to the bone, that the dream hadn’t been just a dream.