Alliance of Shadows, Book 3: HUNTER

Revelations of Forgotten History

I watched as Maria fought a smile when she looked at Stan, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Love the new cut, Jerk. Maybe that'll teach you not to mess with a Howler."

Stanley groaned, dragging a hand through his shortened hair as if mourning the loss of his once unruly curls. “Don't freaking remind me,” he muttered, his tone somewhere between frustration and reluctant acceptance.

I cut a dark glare in his direction, my voice steady. “Unless you want to lose those eyes of yours, brother, I suggest you stop glaring at my Mate.”

The room fell into a heavy silence as the Breakwater people stared at me, their expressions shifting from curiosity to stunned disbelief. Frieda’s gaze lingered on me longer than the others, and when I met her eyes, the look of pity in them made my chest tighten.

I didn’t need anyone's pity. It was just another reason to hide away from the world with my books—the one place where judgment didn’t exist. As long as I had that, I didn't need people.

I sent Maria a pleading look, but she turned her head away, deliberately avoiding my gaze. The gesture was small, but it cut deeper than words ever could. I knew she still rejected my feelings toward her, and I was losing hope. Not that I wanted to tell her about it—but it was true.

After all, she was still a young high school girl with so much potential, her future stretching endlessly before her. So many people were helping her get to where she was going in life, guiding her toward something greater. I wanted to be one of them. But wanting didn’t make it so.

Suddenly, the reason behind her hesitation and her half-assed rejection dawned on me. “You’re afraid, aren’t you?”

Maria’s heart started to race, her breathing growing erratic. A flicker of uncertainty flashed in her eyes before she quickly masked it with anger. She growled at me, her defiance sharp and unwavering. “I’m not scared of you, Hunter.”

Grinning at her, I said, “I know that. What I meant was that you’re afraid I’m going to take your freedom from you.”

Her hands pressed against my chest as I took another step closer. The pressure was there, but weak—she wasn’t really trying to push me away. Her resolve was beginning to crack, the fight in her faltering. I could see it happening right in front of me, the walls she had built starting to crumble.

I pressed my forehead to hers, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine. “There is no need to fear, Maria. Your responsibilities, the Howlers—they’re important. I get that. You're too stubborn to let yourself become a docile little housewife. You’re a born boss, and I love the way you are. I don’t want you to change.”

The murmurs of objection rose until Dreson let out a sharp whistle, slicing through the noise with practiced authority. The tension in the room remained thick, but the immediate protests died down, leaving only the unspoken unease hanging in the air.

Maria’s lips trembled as unshed tears gathered in her eyes, her emotions unraveling despite her attempt to mask them.

“No, please don’t cry,” I whispered, pulling her closer. “You can hold me getting my ass captured over my head for the rest of our lives, but, please, don’t cry.”

She sniffled, muttering under her breath, her voice unsteady. “Jerk, why do you have to be so sweet and honest all the damn time? Why can’t you be like other guys I dated before I knew you? They were certified, Grade A assholes, and you're basically a freaking saint.”

My anger stirred, sharp and instinctive. “Maria, you give me their names, and I swear I will make them pay for hurting you. You don't need to put up with someone making you feel less than you are.”

Jake let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Logan beat you to it, Hunter.”

“She’s his Gamma,” I replied, my voice steady. “Therefore, it stands to reason that he would be protective over his packmates.”

Maria sighed, her gaze lifting to meet mine, resignation flickering in her expression. “I’m not getting rid of you, am I?”

“Not likely.” My voice softened as I reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “If you die on me this time around, I will happily follow you to the other side.”

Her mother gave me a sideways glance. “I need to get you to explain that one.”

I bit my lip, trying to figure out how to get myself out of the mess I’d created.

Well, here goes nothing, I thought before I opened up the wound I never thought I’d revisit. “On February the twenty-sixth in the year 1739, Father called on the Witches of the Breakwater Coven to aid our mother with birthing Peter, but she died in the process. In his rage, he turned on Theresa’s sister and her daughter, slaughtering them without remorse. In retaliation, Theresa cursed his children to live without their Mates until her daughter’s soul was reborn.”

Silence remained, so I spoke again. “Unfortunately, Father only ensured the hex would linger by killing anyone we got close to over the years. Our relationships, if we had any at all, had to be kept secret, hidden in the shadows to avoid his wrath.”

I paused briefly, making sure no one would interrupt, then continued. “Maria was born with two distinct marks that mirrored where her original body had been impaled on the door bolts. Then, as if fate itself refused to be denied, Logan freed us from Father’s destructive power nine years later.”

The silence in the room was deafening. Stanley and my other brothers bowed their heads, the weight of unspoken grief settling over them. They knew how much it hurt me to talk about that night—a night permanently etched into our collective memories.

One I would never forget.

Maria stared up at me, realization flickering in her eyes. “When you said that you would do whatever it took to protect me, you were talking about not being able to save me the first time I died, weren’t you?”

Stanley sighed, his voice heavy with old wounds. “My brothers and I were just children at the time, but each of us understood what she meant. Because of his temper and inability to accept reason, Father brought down the wrath of a Witch. Hunter was only four when you were killed the first time, Maria, and he’s been training ever since. Rather than move on to other girls and women, he stayed faithful for over two hundred years, waiting for you.”

The room shifted as Micah finally walked in, Logan padding silently at his heels in wolf form. Micah scanned the tense faces before releasing a slow sigh. “Father’s not going to like what we are about to do.”

Lady Frieda paled, gripping the handle of her cane a little tighter. “What exactly are you thinking of doing with us?”

Micah’s grin was sharp, almost reckless. “Once everyone is safely out of Nikolai’s reach, then we can talk. Our first focus is saving as many of the Breakwater people as possible.”

Have I mentioned how much I loved Micah’s ability to pull the rest of us out of trouble? No? Well, I do.

“The Vampires of the Ruby Fang now have the backing of the Alliance of Shadows, and we have an army ready and waiting for their General to drop his orders.” Micah continued, delivering the statement with certainty before abruptly smacking Peter in the head to stop him from biting his nails. “Drop that habit, little fool.”

“Bite me,” Peter snapped, baring his fangs in defiance.

Scoffing, Micah shook his head. “You’re disgusting.”

Watching how my brothers carried on, Maria sighed, shaking her head. “How are you so different from your brothers?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve never felt the need to blend in or change just because someone didn’t like the way I was.”

She rested her head against my chest, her voice softer now. “After hearing the whole truth, I’m willing to trust you, Hunter, but please be patient. I’m argumentative, bossy, and I have a vocabulary that could make a seasoned sailor blush when I'm pissed off.”

I smiled, letting my fingers graze lightly over her hair before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Maria, you wouldn't be you without those qualities. Robert Heinlein once said that love is a condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own. He could not have been more right. So long as you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

“Maria, can you shut that lame-ass up, please? He’s quoting that damn writer again,” Stanley groaned, rolling his eyes in exaggerated annoyance.

I took a step back as she turned toward my brothers, her expression shifting dangerously. Her eyes narrowed, and a slow smirk tugged at the corner of her lips—a sure sign that Stan had just walked straight into trouble.

“Excuse me," she said, flipping him off without hesitation. "It's not Hunter's problem that you're inadequately educated.”

Stanley paled, his bravado vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. He glanced at me, then at Maria, as if weighing his options. A sharp retort danced on his tongue, but he wisely swallowed it, his shoulders stiffening. He knew that any kind of retaliation would be similar to signing a deal with the Devil.

"Whatever," he muttered, shifting uncomfortably. "I already learned my lesson when it comes to you."