Alliance of Shadows, Book 3: HUNTER

Hope and Despair

The day after the meeting, I realized that I could have fun being my brother's Assistant. Drafting schedules for the others became my way of getting back at them for all the teasing I’d endured over the years.

While trying to decide where to place Stanley so he wouldn’t stir up trouble, my office door opened, and Irma walked in. My gaze immediately landed on the folder in her hands, narrowing slightly as recognition settled in.

“Are you hard at work again, Hunter?” Irma asked, her tone laced with mild amusement.

Sighing, I looked at the neatly stacked sheets spread across my desk. One pile for single males, another for single females, and one for families. As I filed another name, a thought struck me—I remembered that Henry had mentioned sending paperwork for us to sign.

I lifted my gaze to Irma, a knowing grin pulling at the corner of my mouth. "That wouldn’t happen to be the Alliance Treaty?”

She placed the papers in front of me and laughed. “The Grand Alpha sent it over earlier. I just finished getting your brothers to sign it.”

I started reading it over, absorbing every detail, every clause, ensuring I understood the full weight of the agreement.

“Lord Hunter?” The woman in front of me looked at me with a worried expression.

I shook my head and smiled, letting my expression reassure her. Picking up the pen I was using, I signed the bottom of the Treaty before holding the papers out to her again. “This is the beginning of a new era for us, Lady Irma. I'm looking forward to our continued partnership with the Alliance.”

“As am I. Will you be setting aside your work to go greet your cousin, my Lord?” she questioned, her tone careful but expectant.

“I didn’t know he was here,” I said, my interest sharpening at the unexpected news.

She frowned. “Lord Logan came with a group this time. Some males and a few females.”

A group? Surely she couldn’t mean what I thought she did. My pulse quickened as I considered the implications. Logan rarely traveled with large numbers unless there was significant purpose behind it.

“The Howlers,” I asked cautiously, searching her expression for confirmation.

Irma nodded.

Grinning, I set aside my work, pushing the papers to the edge of the desk. The thought of the Howlers piqued my curiosity—their presence always meant something was brewing. Without hesitation, I left the office and descended the stairs, moving with purpose.

Once downstairs, I stepped into the entertainment room, greeted by the flickering glow of the television screen. Peter, Vincent, and Stanley were sprawled on the couch, their focus locked on the game before them. The low hum of voices, punctuated by the clicking of controllers, filled the space.

I dropped into the open seat beside them, taking in the chaotic battlefield flashing across the screen. I wasn’t a huge fan of violent video games, but virtual killing was a safer choice than real life—a distraction from the weightier matters that occupied my mind.

As Logan and his friends walked into the room, I stiffened. The sweet smell of sea water and wildflowers assaulted my senses, and I knew that my Mate had been reborn. The realization struck hard and fast, a rush of instinct drowning out the noise around me.

After being told to back off by Logan, I moved to a respectable distance, my every movement controlled despite the urgency simmering beneath the surface. I watched over them, a quiet sentinel, keeping my presence felt without intrusion.

I glanced at my brothers, catching their stares. They knew me well, knew precisely what to look for when one of us found our Mate. Too many times over the last few hundred years, we had stood helplessly, watching as our father took the life of one Mate or another. His insecurities, his inability to remain calm and level-headed, had turned our lives into a vicious cycle of life and death. There was never time to love—only loss.

He never gave us a chance.

Then I turned my gaze to the girl. She was young, impressionable, and full of life. Had she even experienced the opposite s*x yet? Did she have a lover?

Hell, what was I thinking?

She was nothing more than a young teen, a high schooler with so much untapped potential. I pulled my focus back, forcing myself to assess her differently. She had years ahead of her—years to grow, learn, and explore life before any bond could take root.

I turned my eyes to Logan and mind-linked him specifically. How old is she?

Fifteen, he replied. Maria doesn't turn sixteen for another month. She's got a boyfriend, Hunter.

Nodding, I digested the information carefully. I'm a patient man, Logan. I was wondering why she didn't recognize me as her Mate. Now I know. Let her have her freedom. It wouldn't be right for me to take that from her.

You're better than the guy she's with, Hunt. He wanted her to drop her male friends until he went toe-to-toe with me. He grunted, never moving from the young Fox girl’s side.

I snickered at his response, amusement flickering through me despite the weight of the situation.

Her laugh filled my ears, and my heart constricted painfully. She was with another, but, as I said, she was far too young for me at the moment. I would have to wait until she at least reached the age where she could decide for herself, then I had to wait until she was what the locals referred to as a young adult.

Basically, I had another three years of waiting for my Mate to reach maturity. Three years of watching and restraining myself, knowing she was mine but not yet ready. Admiring her in the meantime was all I could really do, though even that came with a certain ache.

As I watched her, my heart felt full for the first time since I was four. She was beautiful, with long dark hair and exotic features that stood out even among the crowd. Her light brown skin glistened with sweat, evidence of what I could only assume had been a recent, rigorous workout. Strength suited her, and I found myself appreciating the confidence in her posture, the fire in her movements.

Then again, I could mess with her a bit and flirt like no tomorrow. It wouldn’t hurt, right? A few harmless words, a knowing smile – just enough to plant the seed without disrupting her world. Once she knew I was hers, she would drop her current toy and decide for herself.

Flirting was pretty harmless. I hope.

The funny part was that I didn’t have it in me to hurt my family. They were the only ones that mattered to me. I loved my brothers more than anything, but at the moment, they were scheming—something that could trigger our cousin in the worst way. A plan that, if handled carelessly, could lead to unnecessary conflict.

Harold smirked, his amusement barely concealed. “What are we doing for our cousin’s sweet sixteenth birthday?”

I had no idea why he was whispering. Logan could hear us perfectly fine, even from across the room. His enhanced hearing made secrecy pointless, but Harold liked theatrics.

“I think a basic get-together would be the best option," I said, steering the conversation back to something manageable. "Micah, we still need to find the Breakwater Coven.”

Micah leaned forward, his expression darkening slightly. “Agreed, but we have no idea where to look. Every time I pin down a location, they vanish before I get there.” He exhaled sharply, frustration flickering in his eyes. “Father set them on the run, and they've become experts at hiding in plain sight. They don’t leave traces—not ones that last long enough to track.”

It was when Vincent almost brought up the fact that I was unilaterally what modern society called an Incel that I playfully threatened him. I didn’t need anyone—especially not Maria—knowing that I’d chosen a life of complete celibacy after my four-year-old brain realized Father had not only taken the life of a child but that of my Mate years before.

The weight of that truth never fully left me. Even now, it lingered like a shadow, shaping my choices, my restraint, my refusal to allow anyone too close. I had told myself that solitude was safer, easier. That avoiding attachment meant avoiding pain. But watching her now, I couldn’t ignore the shift stirring inside me.

My heart swelled as she brazenly kept the younger Howlers in check, reinforcing her position as a powerful Gamma female. She commanded them effortlessly, moving with a certainty that demanded respect. Strength radiated from her, not just in how she carried herself but in the way she refused to yield.

What would she think of me if she knew the truth? Would she understand? Or would she see a man so deeply haunted by the past that he had trapped himself in it?

Then, other questions surfaced—the ones that held me in silent turmoil. Would she relent to the bond or deny it completely? Would she accept or reject me? Was my patience going to be rewarded, or would she leave me floundering in the darkest pits of despair?

I had spent centuries waiting, convinced that patience would grant me peace. That enduring the ache of solitude would mean that, when the time finally came, fate would reward my restraint. But now, staring into the unknown, doubt crept in, unraveling the certainty I had clung to for so long.

I didn’t know the answer, and for the first time in centuries, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.