The file said he was dangerous.I had read it four times on the drive up the mountain road, memorising every detail by the weak glow of my phone screen. Damien Cross. Alpha of the Ironfang Pack. Six foot four, dark hair, scar above his left brow. Last seen near the Coldwater Ridge territory. Bounty posted by a rival pack, paid in cash, no questions asked.I had taken worse jobs.My name is Aria Blackwood, and I hunt werewolves for a living.Most people would call that suicidal. I called it Tuesday.I had been doing this work for three years, ever since I figured out that werewolves were real and that most of them were very bad at covering their tracks. They left marks on trees, trails through mud, the faint smell of something wild that no normal animal produced. I had learned to read those signs the way other people read street signs. It kept me alive. It paid my rent. It had never once made me feel afraid.Tonight felt different.I crouched behind a thick oak tree at the edge of the
Last Updated : 2026-02-15 Read more