Alliance of Shadows, Book 3: HUNTER

Against the Odds

I returned a short while later to see several barriers layered one on top of the other, their shimmering energy fields reinforcing the protection around the people inside. The defensive magic pulsed in steady waves, holding firm despite the relentless assault from the opposing forces.

Neil looked up as I approached his group, his stance relaxed yet watchful. “They thought their attack was a good plan.”

“Yeah, they did,” I agreed, my voice calm despite the lingering tension in the air. The enemy had underestimated our defenses, and now they were paying the price.

Jasper jogged over from talking to the two preteens, his easy energy unchanged despite the chaos surrounding us. He laughed as he addressed Logan, “Those girls are brilliant.”

“Duh, they’re part of my pack,” Logan replied sarcastically, dodging away from Jasper’s fist as the Wolf swung at him. Logan’s speed was effortless. His years of instinct and training kicking in as he narrowly avoided the hit.

“You little beast. I still owe you for knocking me out during that mock fight.” Jasper’s growl resonated deep in his chest, frustration sharpening his tone.

“You’re the one that told me to come at you with all I had. Did you fall down and forget I’m half Vampire?” Logan shot back, his smirk widening slightly. His eyes gleamed with amusement, but beneath the playful arrogance was the undeniable truth—his bloodline carried both speed and power that few could match.

Jasper flushed. “Just shut your filthy mouth, hybrid.” His words were sharp, but the hint of a grudging smile betrayed the underlying respect beneath the insult.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Logan returned smugly, his confidence unwavering.

I shook my head at them before getting back to business. Pouring over the map of the area, I traced my finger along the marked terrain, analyzing key locations and choke points. The surrounding landscape would play a crucial role in the battle and knowing where to guide our forces could mean the difference between survival and complete devastation.

“My brothers just told me that they sent most of my army to intercept the third wave of father’s attack,” I said, my voice steady despite the gravity of the situation. “My Lieutenant also advised me that there are two hundred members of the opposing army.” The number wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t insurmountable either. The real threat lay in what we didn’t yet know - would my father stay hidden or would he make an appearance on the field?

Neil nodded at me, his expression thoughtful, lines forming at the corners of his mouth as he considered the information. “That’s good to know. Thanks for the intel. Now, how do we kill them?”

"Decapitation is best. Sever the cranial connection completely and remove the head," I replied without hesitation. "By severing the spine or stabbing, you give yourself precious seconds before the Vampire heals and attacks again. It doesn’t diminish your enemy, but it will weaken you over time. Full removal of the head is the path to optimal results," My tone was measured, but even speaking the words felt like swallowing something sharp. War demanded cruelty, and cruelty demanded precision.

Like swallowing a spoonful of rancid medicine, the truth of the situation left a bitter taste in my mouth. I looked around, my gaze sweeping over the faces of those around me. Some were hardened, prepared. Others carried the weight of uncertainty in their eyes. Each person in this war had something they were fighting for—some desperate hope that kept them standing despite everything.

Yet, amid the grim reality, a silver lining surfaced. The leaders working as one gave the warriors on all sides a sense of unity, a rare moment of solidarity forged not by peace, but by necessity. They didn’t trust each other fully, not yet. But in the face of annihilation, they had put aside grudges, rivalries, and history to ensure survival. For now, that would have to be enough.

“The first shield has been breached!” Ember called out.

“Keep them out as long as possible,” Neil shouted back. “Those that are too drained of their magic should swap with others who haven’t used their powers yet! Let’s keep this effort moving! Dreson, pull rank, dude! Get your Druids on deck.”

There was a hiss of laughter from the Druid Prince as he flipped off Alpha Neil, “I’m on it, Captain Asshole.”

I spotted the Trio near the far edge of the encampment, their movements fluid and precise. They were using their usual tactics to draw the bulk of my father’s forces to a single point. It was a calculated risk, but it made the attacking Vampires easy targets for the Alliance.

“Frown lines make you age faster,” Jake joked as he came over to me. Though young, he moved with confidence, his easy grin showing no sign of unease despite the chaos unfolding around us.

“Are they that fearless?” I asked, pointing toward the three friends – Jacob’s sister and her twin accomplices.

Jake snorted a laugh. “Worried about them? I’m not.”

“I’m just concerned that they will get hurt,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

He laughed. “Mom and a few others are standing by to pull them out if the shields fail."

Micah arrived at the camp long enough to hand me my favorite weapons. I noted the look of astonishment on Jake’s face when he spotted the custom-made scimitars.

"Whoa," he whispered. "Nice."

"I bought them around seventy years ago. They’re made with a titanium base coated with a tungsten carbide and diamond mixture on the edges. Due to the density and weight of the metals combined with the hardness and strength of the diamond, the blades hardly ever require sharpening. I rarely use them anyway."

"Why not?"

I gave him a sideways glance. "I don’t actually like fighting. I train because I have people I love. People I need to protect."

"You sound like Logan," the boy commented before walking away, his words carrying an unexpected weight.

I shrugged off my jacket to sheath the blades, the familiar weight settling against my back. As I moved, I caught a glimpse of my Mate watching me, her dark cheeks tinted with a light blush as my shirt pulled taut over my muscles. The quiet reaction was fleeting but unmistakable, a small moment of warmth amid the tension that surrounded us.

I walked over to where she and Logan were and wrapped my arms around her. She shivered when I kissed her neck, and I said, “If things go south, I want you to get out of here. I can’t risk losing you again, Maria.”

She glared but said nothing, her silence louder than any argument she could have voiced.

Logan pouted. “What am I, chopped liver?”

“No, you’re definitely a wolf in sheep’s clothing, little cousin.” Dropping my humor, I met his gaze with a level stare. “Stay safe. I don't think that I would be able to forgive myself if you or anyone else gets hurt.”

“No worries,” he agreed easily. “I’m in it to win it, like always. Where are you going to be?”

“On the front lines with my army,” I replied without hesitation.

He nodded, understanding the weight of what that meant. “Give them hell.”

“With pleasure,” I replied, the certainty in my voice unwavering.

Shaking my head, I tried not to think of the darker outcome and the might-haves, choosing instead to focus on getting back to my Maria in the end.

Teleporting to where Justin and Harold were, I saw that they were already engaged in a fight. Ten on two was a few too many. I unsheathed my blades, determined to help regain control of the situation. Twisting my body, I sliced through several more, cleaving heads from bodies in quick concession while their forms crumbled under the sharp edge of my scimitars.

A groan of pain pulled my attention behind me. Turning my head slightly, I spotted one of my soldiers clutching her stomach, a dagger buried deep within her flesh. The sharp metallic tang in the air told me everything I needed to know—she’d been wounded with a poisoned blade.

“Roland, get Janelle back to base,” I ordered, my tone firm. Without hesitation, the male grabbed her, vanishing in an instant. He reappeared minutes later, the absence of urgency on his face signaling her safety—at least for now.

“She’s safe, General Hunter,” Roland called before leaping straight back into the fray.

An enemy Vampire lunged at me while my back was turned, forcing me to react instinctively. My blade struck true, cutting through him with deadly precision. His body hit the ground before he had the chance to counter. Turning, I removed his head in one swift motion.

The minutes bled into each other as yet another of the army I built and trained went down with a grunt. My eyes flicked to his failing stance. Blood seeped through his clothes, past his fingers, and down the front of his pants as he clutched his stomach. The sharp metallic scent confirmed the worst—he’d been wounded with a poisoned dagger.

“Teo,” I barked, pulling his attention to me.

“Basic poisoning, nothing deadly, Sir,” he gasped out.

Grabbing him, I returned to camp, ensuring he was safely in the capable hands of the Medics before teleporting back to the battlefield. I had fully expected to see my brothers gaining ground against the opposing forces. Instead, something far worse loomed ahead.

Unfortunately, our father had come out to play.