The Hunt Begins
1200 Words
Eva's POV
“He’s coming for the boy.”
The rogue’s voice was barely a whisper, but it landed like a cannon blast in my chest. My knees buckled. I dropped beside him, grabbing his bloodied collar.
“Who? Who sent you?”
His mouth twitched. “You already know.”
Athena let out a guttural growl inside me. It’s him.
“Dale Garcia,” I breathed.
The rogue blinked slowly—confirming without words.
Trent crouched beside me. “Where is he?”
The rogue coughed, blood foaming at his lips. “Already… closer than you think.”
Isak loomed behind us, tense. “What does he want with the child?”
The rogue turned his head to me. “Power… prophecy… bloodline.”
Then he stilled. His breath stopped. His head lolled sideways.
Dead.
“I want the pack doubled around Nathan,” I said as we stood, brushing dirt from my palms. “No gaps, no weak links. If one person even sneezes, I want to hear it.”
“I’ll personally see to it,” Trent replied.
“I’ll assign two royal scouts to stay with him as well,” Isak added. “One will remain inside. The other, stationed outside the room.”
I nodded. “Good.”
“Eva—” Trent’s voice dropped. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
I turned toward him. “That my father isn’t just alive—he’s hunting his own grandson.”
We moved into the war room immediately.
Pack warriors and royal guards crowded around the map table. I stood at the center between Trent and Isak. My fingers tapped the wooden surface restlessly.
“Is there anything in this territory your father would use as a base?” Trent asked.
“Nothing I can think of,” I replied. “He was obsessed with order, tradition. He never approved of the rogue lifestyle.”
Isak stepped forward. “But a man like that… if he turns rogue, it means he’s out for something specific. Not chaos. Control.”
Trent nodded. “We need to assume this is calculated.”
One of Isak’s scouts leaned over the table. “We’ve intercepted coded chatter from the rogue bands. It references a site east of here—deep forest territory that hasn’t been used in decades. Something about a ‘burial ground of wolves.’”
“Old Moonstone ruins,” Trent muttered. “Abandoned after the war with the East Pack. Cursed, they said.”
“Which means no one patrols it,” I said.
“Exactly.” Isak’s voice was grim. “We think it may be his base.”
“Then we’re going,” I declared.
Both men turned to me at once.
“No,” Trent said immediately.
“You’re staying here,” Isak added.
I slammed both palms on the table. “Do I look like someone asking permission?”
“You’re a mother,” Trent snapped.
“And a damn good one. Which is why I’m going. He’s coming for my son. I won’t sit here and wait for the second wave.”
“Eva, I get it—” Isak began.
“No, you don’t,” I interrupted. “Neither of you do. He used to be my father. He knows how I think. He knows where I’ll hide. That gives me the advantage—not you.”
Trent glared. “You’re too important to risk.”
“I’m not important. Nathan is. This is about protecting him. And the best way I can do that… is by getting ahead of whatever Dale’s planning.”
Silence.
Finally, Isak let out a breath. “She’s right.”
Trent swore under his breath. “Then she goes. But she doesn’t leave my sight.”
It took less than two hours to assemble the team.
Trent, Isak, two of Isak’s elite guards, Beta Henry, and four of Trent’s strongest warriors. I suited up in reinforced gear—a blend of armor and flexibility. My magic hummed through me, sparking at my fingertips.
Nathan hugged me tightly before I left.
“Be brave, okay?” I whispered into his ear.
“I’ll stay with Marge,” he promised. “And I won’t open the door unless it’s you.”
I kissed his forehead. “That’s my boy.”
The journey was quiet—too quiet.
We moved on foot, weaving through thick forest undergrowth. No birds. No rustling. Even the wind seemed to be holding its breath.
Trent moved just ahead of me, silent but aware. Isak took the rear, his eyes scanning every shadow.
“Anything look familiar?” Trent murmured.
“Too familiar,” I replied. “These were my childhood hunting grounds. We used to train here when I was a pup.”
“Perfect place to disappear,” Isak muttered.
Suddenly, one of the royal guards held up a hand.
Everyone froze.
He pointed to the left—barely visible through the trees—a stone structure. Half collapsed, moss-covered, ancient.
“The ruins,” Trent said.
I nodded. “That’s where the old Alpha Hall used to be.”
We moved closer in formation.
I felt it then—a shift in the air. Cold. Heavy. Like walking into a memory wrapped in danger.
My heart pounded. “He’s here.”
Trent turned his head sharply. “How do you know?”
“I don’t. I feel it.”
We entered the ruins.
The hall had crumbled with time. Only the back wall stood tall—carved with the old Moonstone crest. Beneath it, a tunnel led underground.
Athena growled. A trap.
Isak stepped beside me. “I don’t like it.”
“I don’t either,” I said. “But we don’t turn back now.”
Trent nodded once. “We go in. Slow. Ready.”
The tunnel swallowed us in seconds.
The deeper we went, the colder it became.
Our footsteps echoed on damp stone. The air grew thick. Tense.
Then—
A movement.
“Down!” I shouted.
Arrows rained from above. One struck the guard beside me. Another missed Isak’s head by inches.
Trent roared and shifted—his wolf barreled forward into the shadows.
Figures emerged—rogues. At least six of them.
Battle erupted.
Swords clanged. Growls echoed. Magic surged from my hands, lighting up the dark.
I blasted one rogue against the wall. Another tackled me, claws slashing. I rolled and shoved my palm against his chest—golden fire burst from my skin and engulfed him.
Trent tore through two at once. Blood and fur flew.
Isak fought with precise strikes—his silver blade glinting with royal enchantment.
“Push them back!” Henry shouted.
We fought hard.
And finally… silence.
The last rogue fell.
Blood pooled on the stone floor. Breathing was heavy. My shoulder throbbed.
But we were alive.
Trent grabbed a rogue barely clinging to life.
“Where’s Dale?” he growled.
The rogue chuckled weakly. “He’s been watching you… since the moment you crossed the
border.”
My stomach dropped. “Where is he now?”
The rogue smiled.
“Closer than you think.”
- Writer
