Beyond this world

Chapter 4: Hunter

Monday late evening – the day after Kenzie’s attack.

Hunter stood in front of the full-length mirror in his room, his jaw tight as he slowly lifted the hem of his t-shirt. The sight of the wound just below his ribs made his stomach churn. It was still raw, angry red, and refusing to close.

It should’ve been gone by now.

He was a hybrid—half-werewolf, half-Vampire. His wounds were supposed to heal fast, even faster than regular wolves. But this one? It lingered. Burned.

Something was wrong.

He turned slightly, examining it in the mirror. It hadn’t even started to scab properly, let alone heal. The longer he looked at it, the more uneasy he felt.

He replayed the memory in his head—how the rogue had lunged at him in the woods, how he’d thrown himself between it and Kenzie without a second thought. He could still hear her scream, the way her fear pierced through his chest like a blade.

He didn’t regret stepping in. Would do it again in a heartbeat. Even if it killed him.

He didn’t know what it was about her, but every instinct he had screamed to protect her. His wolf had never acted like this before. The way it stirred—restless, possessive, drawn to her like a flame—it was something deeper than just instinct.

It was the mate bond.

But she didn’t know that yet. She didn’t know anything.

He sighed, dragging his shirt down again and grabbing his jacket. He needed answers. And there was only one person he trusted with this kind of thing.

Vikky.

The school nurse.

To everyone else, she was just a kind, eccentric old woman with graying hair and a constant smell of herbs and tea. But to Hunter and the others like him, Vikky was a godsend. A human who knew about their kind. Who had helped the pack for years. Who’d saved more lives than anyone could count.

She’d earned her place among them—human or not.

He knocked once before pushing the door open.

“Hey, Vik. I’ve got a project for you,” he announced as he stepped inside.

Vikky turned from her desk, pushing her glasses up her nose as a warm smile spread across her face. “Hunter Ross. Always showing up with trouble.”

He offered a weak smile and lifted his shirt again. “This… has been here since this morning. It should’ve healed by now.”

Vikky’s eyes narrowed. She immediately grabbed a pair of gloves and motioned for him to sit on the exam bed.

“Let’s take a look, shall we?”

She bent down, examining the wound closely. Her brow furrowed, and the smile slowly faded from her face.

“Huh,” she muttered. “Has it even started healing?”

“I thought it had earlier,” Hunter said, voice unsure. “It looked like it. But maybe I imagined it.”

Vikky didn’t answer right away. She took a cotton swab and carefully dabbed at the edges of the wound, then dropped the swab into a small vial of glowing liquid. It fizzed violently.

“Definitely not healing,” she muttered. “This is… weird.”

Hunter’s jaw clenched. “You think it’s infected?”

Vikky looked up, her expression grim. “You’ve got wolfsbane in your system.”

Hunter blinked. “Wolfsbane? That’s impossible. I wasn’t stabbed or injected—I was bitten. How the hell did it get in my bloodstream?”

She held up the vial, watching it swirl with a sickly purple hue. “It must’ve been in the saliva of the wolf that bit you.”

“That’s not possible,” he repeated. “Wolfsbane would kill a normal werewolf.”

“Well,” Vikky said, raising an eyebrow, “someone out there is. Which means whoever—or whatever—you fought yesterday… wasn’t a regular werewolf.”

Hunter’s stomach dropped. “You think it was part of the rogues?”

“I think it might’ve been something worse.”

She rummaged through her cabinet, pulling out a sealed bottle filled with a deep violet liquid. “Drink this. It’s experimental. But it should purge the wolfsbane.”

He took it, inspecting the bottle with a skeptical look. “What’s in it?”

“Herbs. Magic. Science. Hope. You know—my usual blend,” she said with a wink.

Hunter sighed, tilted the bottle, and downed the contents. It was bitter, thick, and burned on the way down.

A few seconds passed. Nothing.

Then—

A warm, tingling sensation spread through his chest, down to his stomach, and radiated through his limbs. He lifted his shirt again and watched, in amazement, as the wound closed itself right before his eyes—muscle knitting, skin smoothing, until there was nothing but a faint mark left behind.

“It worked,” he whispered, stunned. “Vikky—it worked!”

Vikky crossed her arms, smug. “You ever doubt me again and I’ll hex you.”

He laughed and pulled her into a hug. “You’re the best. Seriously.”

“I know,” she teased, patting his back.

“You told my dad yet?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. You’re the first to test it. I’ll write up a report tonight.”

“Thanks, Vik.”

Hunter turned to leave but paused at the door.

“Be careful,” she said softly. “Something tells me this is just the beginning.”

After leaving the school’s clinic, Hunter made his way toward the main house on campus. It loomed over the academy grounds like a silent sentinel—home to his family, his father’s beta, and their relatives. Despite being the Alpha’s son, Hunter lived in one of the dorms like the rest of the students. His father had insisted on it, wanting him to have a normal student experience. Well, as normal as things could be at Richwood Academy.

The school wasn’t like any ordinary prep school. Richwood was a haven for the supernatural. Werewolves, witches, vampires—nearly every mythical creature imaginable walked its halls. Only a handful of humans attended, including the ones who had arrived on the bus with Kenzie that morning.

It had been his father’s idea to integrate humans into the academy. “We need to blend in,” he’d said. “Keep up appearances. If we seem too secluded, the town will ask questions.” Most of the human students came from wealthy families, giving off the illusion that Richwood was an exclusive, elite private school for the rich and privileged.

But the humans didn’t see what really went on behind the scenes. They couldn’t. His father had enlisted the witches to cast a veil over them, making it nearly impossible for them to perceive anything beyond the ordinary. The spell worked well—except on Kenzie.

And they knew why.

His father had made plans years ago to bring her to the academy, to keep her close. She wasn’t like the others. The spells didn’t work on her, and that made her dangerous—or powerful. Or both.

A barrier also surrounded the school grounds, another precaution. No supernatural creature could enter or leave without his father’s explicit permission. The humans were safe, or at least safer within the confines of the academy. But none of these measures could erase what had happened all those years ago—the reason the school was founded in the first place.

Hunter was twelve. So was his twin brother, Parker.

It had been a perfect day. Their birthday. Laughter, cake, games. But peace turned to bloodshed in an instant. The rogues had come without warning—ruthless and coordinated. One moment the twins were playing outside, the next they were watching their warriors fall, torn apart by merciless claws and fangs. It was chaos. Screams, howls, the scent of death thick in the air.

No one had expected it. The Black Moon Pack was feared across Richwood. Their arrogance made them complacent. They never thought anyone would dare attack them.

But someone had. And they'd paid the price.

The battle raged for hours. Their warriors were brave, but unprepared. His father had eventually turned the tide, leading a desperate charge. But just when hope returned, it was ripped away—Parker was snatched from Hunter’s side.

They used his brother as leverage. A distraction. A way to escape.

His father had gone after them, along with his beta and a handful of warriors. Hunter had stood frozen, bloodied and terrified, waiting for them to return.

They didn’t. Not with Parker.

Only a haunting, broken howl had reached them hours later. A sound that etched itself into Hunter’s soul.

His father came back covered in blood, hollow-eyed. They never found Parker’s body—just a pool of his blood in the woods.

That was the day everything changed.

His mother broke. His father blamed himself, though he never said it out loud. But sometimes, on the rare nights Hunter stayed in the main house, he would hear him. Nightmares. Agonized wails echoing through the halls. The sound of a father mourning a son.

Then came the prophecy.

The witches uncovered it weeks after the attack—one that spoke of a girl destined to save them from a darkness yet to rise. A girl born under a cursed moon. A girl who would either save their kind or destroy them.

Kenzie.

His father made it his mission to find her. And after years of searching, they did.

Hunter stopped outside his father’s office, hesitating at the door. Should he knock or just go in? He chose the respectful route and knocked. His father was big on privacy—and so was he.

“Come in,” came the familiar voice.

He opened the door—and immediately regretted it.

His mother stood awkwardly beside the desk, hair slightly mussed, cheeks flushed. His father looked equally disheveled. Hunter’s eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing. Pretended he hadn’t just interrupted… whatever that was.

“Mother,” he nodded politely.

“Hunter,” she replied, a bit too quickly.

Well, this was awkward.

He crossed the room and sat down in the chair opposite his father. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes,” his father said, clearing his throat and straightening in his chair.

Without another word, Hunter stood and peeled off his shirt, exposing his torso. A scar stretched across his skin, faint now, but still visible.

“This happened this morning,” he said. “It’s healed, but earlier… it wasn’t. It struggled to.”

His mother gasped softly and stepped forward, her fingers ghosting over the mark.

“I saw Vicky,” he continued. “She said there was wolfsbane in the rogue’s bite. She believes a witch is working with them—making their bites poisonous. If that’s true, we’re in more danger than we thought.”

His father’s expression darkened.

“They’re trying to poison us,” Hunter said quietly. “To weaken us before they make a move for Kenzie.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. Hunter could feel it—an invisible weight pressing down on all of them. This wasn’t just about rogue attacks anymore. This was war. And Kenzie was at the center of it.

His father rose from his seat and paced to the window, staring out into the dark. His mother joined him, resting a gentle hand on his arm. He turned to her, kissed her forehead, then returned his gaze to the night.

“We need to strengthen our defenses,” his father said finally. “If the rogues are working with witches, that changes everything. They're getting desperate. Which means they're dangerous.”

He paused, then turned to Hunter, eyes serious. “It’s time we tell her.”

Hunter’s heart stopped.

“She needs to know,” his father continued. “Before someone else tells her, or worse… before it’s too late.”

Hunter swallowed hard. This was it. The moment he’d both longed for and feared. She was going to learn the truth. About the prophecy. About the danger. About him.

“She’s your mate,” his father said gently. “You should be the one to tell her.”

“I know,” Hunter said, voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I’m afraid.”

“Afraid she won’t accept it?” his father asked.

“Afraid she won’t accept me,” Hunter admitted. For months, he’d wanted to tell her—everything. From the moment she stepped through the gates of Richwood Academy, he knew. The bond had snapped into place, undeniable and fierce, anchoring itself deep in his chest. She was breathtaking—her long copper-red hair, those vivid light green eyes, and her freckled, fair skin had stolen the breath right from his lungs. In that moment, all he wanted was to drop to his knees and worship every part of her.

But his father had warned him—it was too soon. Too dangerous to drop the truth on her all at once. Even if she wasn’t human, she’d lived her life as one, with human parents and human beliefs. Throwing this world at her too fast could unravel her—could trigger the power the prophecy warned about before she was ready to wield it.

Now that he finally had permission to tell her, fear gripped him tighter than ever. What if she didn’t want him? What if she rejected the bond that tied their souls together? What if she turned away from the path carved out for her before she was even born?

There was a long pause. Then, finally, he said, “No. She needs to know. We can’t protect her if she doesn’t know what’s coming.”

His father nodded. “Tomorrow. Give her tonight to settle in. She’s strong, Hunter. She can handle it.”

“I hope so,” he murmured.

Hunter returned to his dorm, exhausted. The minute his head hit the pillow, he was out. Whatever Vicky had given him earlier was doing its job. His dreams were filled with images of Kenzie—soft, blurry, but comforting.

Until a loud bang jolted him awake.

“HUNTER! Open up! It’s me!”

He groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Rachel,” he muttered under his breath. “Seriously?”

She didn’t stop knocking. Not after five minutes. Not after ten. After thirty, he gave in and dragged himself to the door, swinging it open.

“Rachel, it’s two in the morning. What the hell are you doing here?”

She brushed past him like she owned the place and plopped down on his bed. “To see you, obviously.”

He closed the door, leaning against it, too tired for her games. “You couldn’t sleep? What’s going on?”

She hesitated. That was new. Rachel was never nervous. Never off-balance.

He stepped toward her. “Rachel?”

She looked up at him, and for the first time, he saw something in her eyes he’d never seen before—fear.

“I had another dream,” she whispered. “One of those dreams that… come true.”

“A vision?” he asked, instantly on alert.

She nodded. “Yeah. But this time, it was about her.”

His blood turned cold. “Kenzie?”

Rachel’s hands trembled in her lap, something Hunter had never seen before. She wasn’t the kind of girl who showed fear. Not to him. Not to anyone.

But now… now she looked haunted.

“I didn’t know what it was at first,” she whispered, I unfocused as if she were still half in the dream. “It felt like I was floating—pulled forward, like I was being shown something I wasn’t supposed to see yet.”

Hunter stayed quiet, letting her speak, letting the pieces fall into place in her own time.

“There was fog everywhere. Thick and cold. It clung to my skin like fingers.” Her voice grew softer. “I heard screams, but they were distant. Muffled. Like the world was trying to hide them.”

Hunter’s jaw clenched.

“I walked toward the sound, and the fog parted. That’s when I saw it.”

She lifted her gaze to him.

“There was a field. Blood-soaked. Bodies—our people—scattered across the ground. Wolves. Some half-shifted. Some—” Her voice cracked. “Some weren’t moving.”

He swallowed hard.

“I saw your father. Injured. On his knees, trying to fight, but there were too many of them. And then I saw her. She was standing in the middle of the chaos. Drenched in blood, but I don’t think it was hers. Her eyes—Hunter, they were glowing. Not like a normal wolf. Not even like an Alpha.”

She looked at him, truly looked at him, and he saw it—the fear of the unknown.

“She wasn’t herself,” Rachel said. “Her expression was… blank. Cold. Like something else was inside her, wearing her skin.”

He felt something cold crawl down his spine.

“And then she turned,” Rachel whispered, “and looked right at me. Right through me. She said, ‘It ends with me.’ And then—”

She broke off, eyes glassy.

“Then everything exploded. Light and fire. The earth cracked. I was thrown back, and I woke up choking on air.”

Silence stretched between them. The only sound was Hunter’s breath, shallow and uneven.

“She was powerful,” Rachel finally said. “Terrifying. But it didn’t feel like she was the villain.”

Hunter’s brows furrowed. “Then who was?”

Rachel hesitated, then looked down at her hands. “I don’t know. But someone was calling to her in the dream. A voice. Male. Smooth. It kept whispering her name like it belonged to him.”

He stood up, pacing. “It could be a rogue. A dark witch. A demon—hell, maybe even someone from the prophecy.”

Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think this is just about rogues anymore. There’s something older behind all this. Something ancient and angry.”

Hunter stopped pacing. “You think the prophecy is already starting?”

“I think,” Rachel said, rising to her feet, “we’re running out of time. And if we don’t figure this out—” She looked him dead in the eyes. “Kenzie won’t survive it. None of us will.”