The alpha's hunt
1109 Words
The forest breathed in rhythm with him.
Kael moved through the pines like a shadow given muscle and intent. Every step sank silently into the loam. The night should have been still—yet something in it trembled.
Power. Old, wild, familiar.
He felt it in the marrow of his bones the moment the moon bled red. The sensation was a pulse beneath his skin, an echo of an echo, tugging him north toward the borderlands.
His beta, Rowan, kept pace beside him in wolf form, the black fur along his shoulders bristling.
You feel it too, Kael sent through the pack link.
Rowan’s answer came like a growl inside his head. The air reeks of magic. Not witchcraft—something older.
Kael didn’t reply. He already knew. The power twisting through the night wasn’t foreign; it was a whisper of the Moon Goddess herself—something Kael had spent his entire life denying.
The prophecy.
Every generation, it haunted his bloodline like a disease: When the cursed heart meets the darkened soul, one will die and one will awaken. His father had believed it. His mother had died because of it. Kael had sworn never to let such madness rule him.
And yet… here he was, chasing the scent of it.
---
They reached the ridge above the valley just as fire bloomed below—tiny tongues of orange devouring a cabin. Screams echoed through the trees, sharp and short-lived. Rogues.
Kael shifted, bones cracking, skin giving way to fur. In seconds the Alpha wolf tore down the slope, claws shredding earth. Rowan and three scouts followed, their howls shaking the branches.
The rogues didn’t stand a chance. Kael hit the first one mid-lunge, snapping its spine with a single bite. Another came at him from the side; he rolled, tore through its throat, and felt the blood steam against his coat.
But even as the last rogue fell, the unease in his chest only deepened. The power that had drawn him here still pulsed, steady as a heartbeat.
He shifted back, chest heaving, and strode toward the remains of the cabin. Heat licked his skin; smoke curled into the blood-moon light.
Through the haze he saw movement—someone stumbling from the wreckage, a girl with soot-streaked cheeks and eyes that caught the moonlight like shards of silver.
She froze when she saw him.
For a moment the world stopped breathing.
The bond slammed into him like lightning, raw and absolute. His wolf roared inside, Mine.
Kael’s vision blurred. His heart, which had never faltered in battle, missed a beat.
He fought the instinct with everything he had. “Who are you?” His voice came out rough, half growl, half question.
The girl blinked, trembling, yet her chin lifted. “No one.”
A lie—but a brave one. Her aura shimmered around her like starlight wrapped in smoke, pulsing with the same energy that had called him here.
“You used magic,” he said. “I felt it.”
Her hands tightened around the hilt of a silver dagger. “Stay away from me.”
Kael stepped closer. The air between them crackled. “You killed those rogues.”
“They came for me.”
“Why?”
She hesitated, and in that heartbeat of silence he smelled it again—blood, fear… and destiny. His wolf pushed forward, desperate to close the distance. Kael forced it back.
“I asked you a question.”
“I don’t know!” she cried. “I didn’t mean to— it just happened.”
The wind shifted, carrying the scent of burning pine and the faintest trace of tears. Kael’s chest tightened. Something about her fragility scraped against his own darkness in a way that terrified him.
Rowan emerged from the smoke behind him. “Alpha, the rogues are dead. No survivors.” His gaze landed on the girl. “Who’s this?”
Kael didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Words felt dangerous. The bond was still pounding in his blood, demanding recognition.
Rowan frowned. “She reeks of moonlight.”
“I know,” Kael said quietly.
The girl’s knees buckled. Kael caught her before she hit the ground. The moment his skin touched hers, pain seared through his arm—a mark burning itself into existence just above his wrist: a thin crescent of light surrounded by black flame.
The curse mark.
Rowan swore under his breath. “Moon Goddess help us.”
Kael clenched his jaw. “She doesn’t help. She only watches.”
Lyra—he didn’t yet know her name, but the sound of it whispered through his mind—stirred, eyelids fluttering. When her gaze met his, something ancient shifted inside him, a recognition older than memory.
“Who are you?” she breathed.
He almost said your mate. Instead, he set her gently against the tree and rose. “You’ll come with us.”
“No.” She shook her head, weak but defiant. “I can’t. You don’t understand—”
“I understand enough.” His voice hardened. “Whatever you are, you’re the reason those rogues attacked my lands.”
“I didn’t call them,” she whispered. “The curse did.”
The word hit him like a blade. He crouched in front of her, meeting those silver eyes. “What curse?”
Her fingers trembled as she touched the birthmark at her collarbone—a crescent surrounded by thorns. “The one that kills every Alpha who tries to claim me.”
For a second, neither of them moved. The forest went silent again, as if the world waited for his answer.
Kael stood, forcing his heartbeat to steady. “You’ll come with us,” he repeated. “We’ll see whether the prophecy is truth or superstition.”
“And if it’s truth?” she asked.
His mouth curved in something too sharp to be a smile. “Then I’ll outlive it.”
---
They traveled through the forest before dawn. Lyra rode behind him on the black war-horse, too weak to walk. Every time her fingers brushed his coat, warmth flared beneath his skin, wild and dangerous.
He told himself it was pity. He told himself he could control it.
But when she leaned her head against his back, trusting him despite the fear in her scent, he knew the lie for what it was.
The bond wasn’t waiting. It was consuming.
By the time the gates of Shadowfang rose from the mist, Kael’s fate was sealed.
The cursed mate had been found.
And somewhere deep inside, the curse began to whisper his name.
- Writer
