All Chapters of The Mate Hunt: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

RonanMaeve opened the door, but her eyes slid right past me. She fixed her gaze on Elowen instead, steeling herself.“Tell me everything.” The words were calm, but the bond between us told a different story, fear shivering through it, tangled with exhaustion, grief, and the desperate need for something solid amid the chaos.I fought the urge to close the distance between us. She’d locked herself in my room for hours because she needed that space. The fact that she’d opened the door at all felt like more than I deserved.Elowen studied Maeve for a long, quiet moment. The silver in Maeve’s eyes had faded with the sunrise, but it was still there, an unmistakable glimmer that set her apart from any ordinary wolf.“Inside,” Elowen said, and swept past Maeve without waiting for an invitation. That was always her way, she’d walked into my council chambers, my territory, even my private bath as if locks and boundaries were nothing more than polite suggestions.Cassian followed her in. I took

RonanMaeve’s words weren’t an argument anymore. They were a plea.Elowen didn’t brush them aside. Instead, her voice softened. “I believe she may have loved you.”Maeve’s gaze snapped up, hope and pain tangled together. “You do?”“People can be capable of both love and cruelty at the same time,” Elowen said gently. She reached for Maeve’s hand again, and this time Maeve let her take it.“My sister might have loved me deeply. That doesn’t mean she didn’t use me.”Maeve’s voice wavered. “She protected me.”Elowen nodded. “Perhaps. She raised you when no one else would.”“Then the betrayal hurts more,” Maeve whispered.Her grief pulsed through the bond. My hand tightened on the arm of my chair. I wanted to pull her close, to tear Mara apart for making Maeve question every kind thing she’d ever received from the person she trusted most.Elowen glanced at me... a warning. Not yet. I stayed where I was.Maeve stared down at their joined hands. “Why my blood?”Elowen sighed. “We don’t know e

MaeveBy midmorning, every wolf inside Blackthorne Mansion knew we were leaving.Most of them had gathered to watch.They lined the upper balconies, crowded the entrance hall, and lingered beneath the covered walkway leading toward the stables. Some pretended to speak with servants or inspect the carriages waiting in the courtyard.None of them fooled me.They were staring at me.I kept my head raised as I descended the mansion steps.Let them stare.I would not bow my head simply because they were afraid of me now.I had spent the morning dressed in clothing Elowen found among Blackthorne’s supplies: dark riding trousers, tall boots, and a thick charcoal cloak fastened beneath my throat.Ronan’s shirt remained hidden beneath it.I told myself I had worn it because I had nothing else comfortable enough after the Hunt.My wolf knew better.His scent surrounded me. Smoke. Cold stone. Rain-soaked pine.It calmed something inside me that I did not want soothed.Ronan stood close enough fo

MaeveMy breath caught, sharp and sudden. Confusion knotted inside me, tangled with warmth, a flicker of fear, and a wanting I refused to name. Ronan felt every tangled thread, but for once, he said nothing. Cassian shot a glance over his shoulder, then faced forward again as the road curved east.We traveled for over an hour without stopping. With every mile farther from Blackthorne Mansion, the noise inside my mind faded, the undercurrent of voices and heartbeats dissolving into quiet. I flexed my fingers, glanced behind us, and listened for the simmering presence of the pack.Ronan’s voice was low. “What is it?”“The wolves,” I murmured.His body instantly tensed behind me. “Where?”“No,” I shook my head, “the wolves at the mansion.”Elowen closed the distance between our horses. “What about them?”“I can’t feel them as clearly anymore.”She nodded, matter-of-fact. “That’s expected. Your awareness should weaken with distance.”Relief trickled through my lungs, letting me breathe ea

RonanThe bowstring released.I moved before the sound finished cutting through the pass. My hand closed around the arrow inches from Maeve’s chest.Silver tore through my palm.The arrowhead burned instantly, searing flesh and filling the air with the bitter scent of metal, blood, and scorched skin. Pain shot through my wrist, sharp enough to make my bones lock.I did not release it.Maeve stared up at me from beneath my body, her grey eyes widening as blood ran over my fingers and dripped onto her cloak.The arrow trembled between us. Too close. Another breath and it would have pierced her heart.The Hunger went still. Not soothed. Not controlled. Still in the way a forest became silent before lightning split the sky.I raised my head.The masked wolf who had fired stood on the ridge above us, already reaching for another arrow. The crescent-and-three-lines symbol painted across his face stared down at me like an old wound.Mara’s mark.I tightened my grip. The shaft snapped in my h