Tempting the Huntress

Chapter 6- To Kill or to Die

Lucien followed the scent through the forest.

The night air was thick with damp earth and pine, the ground soft beneath his boots as he moved between the towering trunks. The trees grew thinner the farther he went, their shadows stretching longer across the forest floor. Somewhere above, the wind whispered through the branches.

Then the forest opened.

Lucien stopped at the edge of a clearing…and there it stood.

An old structure loomed in the center of the open land, surrounded by tall fencing and rusted iron gates. From a distance, it looked abandoned: windows black, walls cracked, weeds climbing along the concrete like the slow fingers of decay.

But Lucien knew better.

His senses told him the truth long before his eyes could confirm it. Lights flickered faintly behind reinforced glass. Deep beneath the earth, generators hummed like distant thunder.

And the scent…

Lucien’s hands curled slowly into fists.

Rowan.

The smell hit him like a physical blow. Blood… fear. Pain soaked into the air itself. The scent of suffering lingered thick and heavy, clinging to every breath he took.

Inside that compound, behind concrete and steel, his brother had been imprisoned, broken, and treated like an experiment and inhumane. No chance of a proper funeral, treated like wild animals.

Lucien’s wolf surged violently inside him. Rage ripped through his veins like wildfire.

For a moment, he nearly lost control. The urge to shift clawed at his bones, demanding release. His muscles tensed, his breathing deepened, and his vision sharpened as the world around him trembled with barely restrained fury. He wanted to tear the place apart.

Stone by stone. Brick by Brick.

Every instinct screamed for blood. Then, a movement caught his attention near the outer fence. Lucien’s gaze snapped toward it instantly.

A figure stepped out from the building. She moved with quiet confidence, dark hair pulled back tightly from her face. The wind shifted. And her scent reached him.

Lucien froze.

His body went rigid, as if the earth itself had suddenly turned to stone beneath his feet.

Behind him, Kael noticed immediately.

“What is it?”

Lucien didn’t answer. Because the memories from that night had already slammed into him like a blade through the chest.

Her scent. His wolf erupted inside him.

Kill her. Nothing is above the pack.

The voice roared through his skull, claws scraping against bone.

Kill her now.

Lucien’s golden eyes burned as he stared at the woman beyond the fence. His human mind repeated the same command in a cold whisper.

Kill her.

She turned slowly, scanning the treeline as if sensing something in the darkness. Her gaze swept across the forest. For one long moment, their eyes nearly met.

Lucien stepped back into the shadows just before her gaze reached him. His hands trembled with the effort of holding his wolf back.

Not here. Not tonight.

If he attacked now, the hunters would swarm the forest within minutes. Weapons would fire. Lights would flood the trees. His pack would be exposed.

He could fight them. He could tear through every human in that compound. But his pack would pay the price. And Rowan deserved more than a reckless revenge.

Lucien turned sharply.

“Back,” he ordered.

Kael blinked in confusion. “Alpha…”

“It’s an order.” The command in his voice left no room for argument.

The wolves withdrew immediately, melting into the darkness of the forest as if they had never been there at all.

But Lucien remained. For a few seconds longer, he stood in the shadows, staring across the clearing. His chest burned with a hatred and something else…so deep it felt alive. Every instinct inside him demanded war. But war required patience. And revenge required certainty.

He will have to suppress that little part of him. This world was wretched; a bond so pure didn’t belong to a species like hers. He will forget everything the moon goddess has fated for him. He will write his own fate.

Finally, Lucien turned and disappeared into the forest.

—

Hours later, the pack gathered in a hollow valley deep within the mountains. A fire crackled softly in the center of the clearing, its light flickering against the surrounding stone walls. Wolves sat or stood in tense silence, their golden eyes reflecting the flames.

The air was thick with unease.

Lucien stepped into the firelight. The clearing fell silent immediately. Dozens of eyes turned toward him. Kael was the first to speak.

“The hunters took him.” A low growl rippled through the pack like distant thunder.

Lucien raised his hand. The sound died instantly. His voice, when he spoke, was calm. Too calm.

“I found the place where they’re keeping Rowan.”

Shock moved through the wolves like a wave. Murmurs spread. Growls returned, louder this time. Lucien’s gaze moved slowly across the faces of his pack. His eyes finally stopped on Rowena.

Her eyes were red from crying, though she stood straight, refusing to show weakness. Rowan and Rowena were inseparable.

Lucien’s jaw tightened.

“I will get him back.”

An oath.

“But not tonight.”

Uneasy murmurs spread through the clearing again. Lucien stepped closer to the fire. The flames reflected in his golden eyes like molten metal. And when he spoke again, something darker lingered beneath his voice.

“When I do…” The valley seemed to hold its breath. Lucien’s gaze lifted toward the dark forest beyond the fire. “Every drop of blood taken from our kind will be repaid.”

Lucien turned toward the mountains rising beyond the trees.

“I will not return,” he said quietly, “until the one responsible pays for what they have done.”

—

Lilith moved silently through the forest. The underbrush brushed softly against her boots as she stepped between the trees, every movement controlled and deliberate. The night air was cold, carrying the scent of fog and damp soil.

Her rifle rested comfortably in her hands. Elias had warned her not to come alone. But he was still recovering from the deep gash across his side from the last encounter. And Lilith hated waiting.

Besides… she felt ready. Her wounds were better now. The clearing appeared ahead, about half an hour from where the last fight had taken place. Lilith slowed as she approached it. The ground was scarred.

Deep claw marks tore through the soil. Broken branches littered the earth, and patches of dried blood stained the dirt dark brown.

A struggle had happened here. Or… a search.

Her heart quickened.

Someone had been searching this place. Then she smelled it.

Wolves.

But something was different.

There was a mix of two smells. One was lighter, still wild, and another was stronger than before: thicker, fouler, more like rotten eggs and sulfur.

Lilith froze. Her stomach twisted. She knew that smell.

Mutants. Her father finally explained that there were differences in these kinds of wolves; some were werewolves, and bigger, more unruly ones were mutants. They still don’t know how to differentiate between them except for the smell.

Well, let’s say human olfactory senses can’t always be trusted.

For years, she had hunted the mutants. Twisted creatures born from failed experiments and unnatural tampering. They smelled exactly like this.

But now, suddenly, she has been questioning everything since last week. The werewolf she had killed a week ago had smelled nothing like them. There is so much she didn’t know about them.

Lilith crouched low, her senses sharpening as she moved slowly through the trees. Then she saw it.

A wolf stood beyond a cluster of fallen trunks. Its body was massive, larger than any natural wolf should be. Its fur bristled along its spine, and its yellow eyes glowed faintly in the darkness. Sulphur smell.

A mutant.

Her finger moved toward the trigger.

But she hesitated. Just for a second.

The memory from last week flashed through her mind, the wolf collapsing… and the human body beneath the fur.

Her grip tightened.

What if…

The wolf moved and it… lunged. Far faster than she expected.

Lilith dove sideways, rolling across the damp earth as claws tore through the air where she had stood. Her rifle fired. The gunshot exploded through the forest. The wolf staggered backward, a dark stain spreading across its side.

But it didn’t change.

Lilith scrambled to her feet, heart pounding as she raised the rifle again.

The creature remained on four legs. It was bleeding and growling. No transformation came. Her chest tightened. Slowly, cautiously, she stepped forward. The wolf’s eyes glimmered in the shadows, intelligent, calculating.

But there was no human behind them. Her finger trembled slightly against the trigger.

She waited. Minutes passed. Nothing happened. Understanding slowly settled into her mind.

The realization left a bitter taste in her mouth. Lilith lowered the rifle slightly as the wolf finally collapsed into the underbrush, its breathing fading. Which one killed her mother?

Her pulse still thundered in her ears. She had hesitated. And that hesitation had nearly killed her. Her grip tightened on the weapon.

“I almost died,” she whispered to herself.

Lilith scanned the forest again, her eyes sharper now, colder. The night seemed darker than before. Every rustle of leaves sounded like approaching claws.

And one realization settled firmly in her mind.

Next time she faced either one of them…

Can she really not hesitate? What will happen if she does?

Because in this forest, there were only two outcomes left.

To Kill.

Or to die…