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Lahat ng Kabanata ng CHASING MONSTERS: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

249 Kabanata

1 – THE ICE QUEEN

Sophie stood alone in a sea of people. She had not one person she could claim cared about her, in this room or anywhere. Off to the right of the stage, her spine was straight, chin lifted, face arranged into something blank and cold. Controlled. Untouchable. Her classmates had dubbed her The Ice Queen, a name spoken with equal parts resentment and grudging admiration. Onstage, Principal Lumden raised the microphone, unable to suppress his excitement. “This year, we honor a student who has shattered records, achieving the highest merits seen in over three centuries at Wildbourne Academy.” A murmur rippled through the hall. “She has shown promise since day one, rising above every challenge thrown her way.” “She,” Pandora rolled her eyes nearby, “it’s obviously Little Miss Perfect, riding on granddad's coattails.” A few graduating Hunters snorted in agreement. Sophie didn’t flinch. Pandora Vale was twenty-one, beautiful, charismatic, adored. Everything Sophie wasn’t allowed to be

2 –MEMORIES OF SUNLIGHT

The ceremony hall emptied slowly, laughter and conversation spilling into the corridors like something Sophie could never quite reach. She followed her grandfather toward the waiting carriage, footsteps measured, posture perfect. The silver ring rested on her finger, its weight constant, its presence impossible to forget. As always, her face remained serene. Inside, the walls of her mind shifted. Memories, long locked away, stirred in the quiet that followed applause. Her last memory of love came wrapped in sunlight. A small cottage tucked deep in the woods. Soft light spilling through the windows. Her mother’s laughter drifting around her as they bent to gather wildflowers, hands brushing, voices warm. Arms that lifted her easily. A lullaby murmured low against her hair as she drifted toward sleep. Safety had once been real. Then the game. Hide, Sophie. Quickly now. Just like we practiced. She had thought it was play. Giggled as she squeezed into the narrow cupboard, knees t

3 – SIX O CLOCK SHARP

The grandfather clock in Lucian’s study struck six, each chime echoing through the vast halls of the mansion like a tolling bell. Sophie stood at the top of the staircase, hands smoothing the fabric of her gown. The dress had been chosen for her, as everything in her life was. A classic black evening gown that clung to her athletic frame before falling in a clean, severe line to the floor. Elegant. Restrained. Designed to impress and to control. She would have traded it without hesitation for her hunter’s uniform, for fitted pants, boots, and weapons at her sides. In those, she felt capable. Grounded. Dangerous. In this, she felt displayed. Her reflection stared back at her from the tall mirror lining the hall. Full lips painted a muted rose. Green eyes sharpened by dark liner. Her hair braided neatly back, exposing the graceful line of her throat and collarbone. She looked older than seventeen. Too composed. Too finished. And yet, never enough. Pandora would have thrived i

4 – THE HUNTERS BALL

The great hall glittered with chandeliers and polished marble, silver banners of the Hunters’ Council hanging from the vaulted ceilings. Music swelled, laughter floated, and every head turned when Sophie and Jax entered together. Whispers trailed in their wake. The Ice Queen, with Jax Kilsome? She’s seventeen. Too young. Too cold. And yet… look at them. Sophie held her chin high, her hand resting lightly on Jax’s arm. Her mask was flawless, but the pressure of every stare dug in. This was not just a school celebration, this was a stage. And the entire Council had shown up. Sophie clocked them without meaning to. Council rings and crests. Familiar faces she’d seen in secret meetings with her grandfather. A few training briefings and official photographs. Men and women who rarely left the city walls unless something was about to shift. They sat in their designated section, flanked by senior Hunters, as if tonight required an audience of power. A Ball with politics in the front

5 – FIRE AND BLOOD

The chandeliers lay in shards across the marble floor, crystal glittering like fallen stars. Smoke curled from the gaping hole where the doors had once stood, thick and choking. Snarls and screams collided with the frantic discord of musicians abandoning their instruments mid-song. “HUNTERS! TO ARMS!” Rufus bellowed, his voice booming through the chaos. But most of them had none. The Ball had been designed for politics and spectacle, not blood. Gowns, not armor. Goblets, not weapons. A blur of fur and snapping jaws lunged at Sophie through the smoke. She barely had time to pivot before something gleamed in the air. “Catch!” Johnny’s voice rang out, wild with exhilaration. Sophie snatched the shining sword from midair on instinct. The weight of it settled into her palm like an old memory. She drove it forward without hesitation, straight through the rogue’s chest. The wolf’s momentum carried it another step before it collapsed at her feet. Blood splattered across her dre

6 – SHADOWS OF THE MANSION

The ballroom was still thick with smoke and the stench of blood when Lucian summoned the Council to a private chamber. The injured had been dragged aside. The dead lay covered in cloaks. Broken crystal glittered underfoot like mockery. Lucian’s cold gaze swept the room and landed on Jax. “Get her home safely,” he commanded, tone absolute. “I will accept nothing less.” “Yes, sir,” Jax said, inclining his head. Sophie stayed silent. Her mask held, but the weight of her grandfather’s words pressed against her soul like prison bars locking into place. As Jax stepped away to talk with someone, she saw Pandora. Tom’s body lay on a marble slab, covered to the chest. He was unmistakably still. Pandora knelt beside him, golden dress untouched, face streaked with careful tears. Penelope hovered close, hands fluttering uselessly, eyes wide and shining. Several others stood nearby, murmuring condolences. Pandora sobbed loudly. But when her gaze flicked to Sophie, everything changed. The

7 – BAPTISM OF FIRE

Sophie sat on the edge of her bed, sheets damp with sweat, and carefully peeled her dress away from her wounds. She did it slowly, methodically, like she was disarming a trap. The fabric stuck in places it shouldn’t have, and every time she lifted it, pain flared bright enough to make her vision pinch. She didn’t make a sound. The mansion was silent above her. Lucian slept, or possibly brooded, in his study. Sophie pictured him there, awake in the dark, drinking control like it was water. She pushed the thought away before it could sour her breathing. Thinking about him too much was a kind of surrender. Sophie dipped a cloth into cool water, biting back a hiss as she cleaned the welts. She wrapped herself in fresh linen, hands steady despite the tremors in her chest. She would not show weakness. Not for him. Not for anyone. A thin tremble ran through her fingers anyway, not from pain, but from last night’s other violence. The Ball. The blast. Tom’s body laid out. Pandora’s sobs an

8 — NEW RECRUITS

The low thrum of Shiloh’s engine cut through the morning haze. Sophie slid into the passenger seat without a word; Shiloh’s face was set and unreadable as ever. The drive to the barracks was quiet, the kind of silence that meant a storm was coming. Sophie watched the road cut through pale light, her reflection faint in the glass. The bruise-deep ache in her back moved when she breathed, a reminder she could feel without looking. She didn’t let it reach her face. Shiloh drove like she was in a hurry to outrun yesterday. When the compound gates opened, the high fences and cameras seemed to swallow them. The barracks buildings sat squared and functional, the kind of place where people stopped pretending war was a distant story. They stepped into the briefing hall and both stopped. Pandora, immaculate in a tailored uniform, preened as if the room were her stage. Penelope hovered at her side, lashes batting like a practiced performance. Bobby stood a little behind them. Tom’s best frie

9 — DIRTIEST HANDS

The forest erupted in fire. Silver-charged explosives detonated across the Spring Rivers border, rattling the earth beneath Sophie’s boots. Shockwaves rolled through the ground, knocking loose soil from tree roots and sending birds screaming into the night. Smoke surged in thick, choking waves, and from the treeline came the answering chorus. Howls. Not wild, feral cries, but layered voices rising together, mournful and furious, like war drums echoing through bone and blood. Sophie’s chest tightened. The sound slid under her skin, settling somewhere deep she didn’t have words for. “On me!” Jax’s voice boomed over the comms. Wolves poured from the darkness. They came fast and hard, bodies blurring between shapes, claws flashing, fangs gleaming white in the firelight. Sophie drew her swords and fell into step beside Shiloh without a word. There was no need for one. They had already aligned, instincts snapping into place. The first wolf lunged. Sophie met it midair, steel

10 — BLOOD SISTERS

The debrief was short and sharp. Losses tallied. Victories noted. Jax dismissed them with clipped efficiency, and one by one the hunters peeled off to wash the stench of blood from their skin. Sophie scrubbed herself raw under the barracks showers, watching the water run pink before it finally cleared. When she emerged, hair damp and tied back, Shiloh was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “You’re too young for this,” Shiloh said bluntly, eyes narrowing as she studied Sophie. Before Sophie could bristle, Johnny appeared, towel slung around his shoulders, grinning like a wolf himself. “Too young? She fights like she isn’t young. Hell, she fights better than half this sorry lot.” Shiloh’s mouth tugged into something like agreement. “True enough.” She jerked her chin toward her suite. “You want a real shower, use mine. I’ve even got something sexy you can wear after, take the heat off those bitches.” “Thanks,” Sophie said, half-smiling, “but if I went home dressed sexy, my grand

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