Chapter 68: The Alpha’s Hunt

Chapter 68: The Alpha’s Hunt


Kael’s POV

The night was too quiet.

Every leaf that shifted in the trees felt wrong, every branch that cracked under my boots sounded like a warning. The air itself carried tension, sharp and metallic, like the taste of blood before the first blow is struck. My wolf pressed harder against my ribs, claws dragging through my chest. He wanted out. He wanted to run through the trees, to sink his teeth into flesh until the forest was painted red.

But I held him back.

Rage would not win this fight. Precision would.

Still, my steps were heavy with fury as we moved deeper into the woods. Fianna’s scent haunted the air, faint and fragile, yet it clung stubbornly to the wind like it refused to die. I drank it in greedily, letting it guide me, letting it remind me what I was hunting for.

Her.

Always her.

Every breath of her scent tightened the bond that pulsed inside me, steady and alive. I hated it. I craved it. It mocked me with the truth I had buried for years.

I had let her go.

I had cast her aside.

I had called her weak, unworthy, a mistake that nearly cost me everything. And when she disappeared, when news of her “death” spread, I had swallowed my guilt with a stone heart and convinced myself she was gone.

But the bond had never died.

I had ignored its whisper. Smothered it. Lied to myself until I almost believed it. But now—now it pulsed in me like a brand, scorching me with every beat.

And worse, it wasn’t just alive. It was bleeding.

“Alpha,” Rowan murmured at my side, his voice careful. “We’re nearing Shadow’s borders. If we push further, Derek will know.”

“Good,” I growled, my voice carrying more wolf than man. “Let him know.”

Rowan didn’t flinch, but I felt the unease ripple through the others. My warriors glanced at me from the corners of their eyes, their wolves restless. They could feel it too—the storm building inside me, the raw edge of something that was no longer control, but hunger.

Derek.

The name itself was poison on my tongue.

That vulture had always circled at the edges, scavenging what was not his. He thrived on rot, on broken things, and he thought he could take her. Thought he could mold her into his weapon. His queen. His shadow bride.

But he had made the mistake of underestimating me. And worse—underestimating her.

The bond snapped inside me then, sharp and violent, like lightning striking bone. My knees nearly buckled as fire tore through my chest. My wolf howled in agony, claws shredding against my insides.

“Alpha!” Rowan caught my arm, but I shoved him away, baring my teeth at the night.

It wasn’t weakness. It was her.

Fianna.

Through the tether, I felt her—faint but burning. Her fire licked against mine, stubborn, alive, even in chains. She was fighting. Gods, she was still fighting.

A raw sound ripped from my throat, part snarl, part prayer. My vision blurred, the forest warping silver around me, and then I grinned. A savage, hungry grin that made the warriors closest to me step back.

“She’s alive,” I rasped, chest heaving. “Do you hear me? She’s alive.”

The men exchanged wary looks, but hope flickered in their eyes. Hope, and fear.

Because if she lived, then Derek held her.

And if Derek held her, we were running out of time.

I tore my cloak from my shoulders and let it fall, the mud swallowing the dark fabric. The night air was cold against my skin, but it only stoked the fire burning in me. My wolf surged closer, claws dragging against flesh, demanding to run, to hunt, to rip apart everything between us and her.

The ground trembled faintly beneath my aura as it unfurled, heavy and sharp, pressing down on the men around me. Some of them shifted uneasily, their wolves lowering their heads under the weight of it.

“Tonight,” I growled, my voice rough with power, “we do not march as Moonstone wolves. Tonight, we are vengeance. For every drop of blood Derek has spilled. For every wolf he has broken. For her.”

The words struck like sparks. My men straightened, their wolves answering in a ripple of growls and low howls that shook the branches above.

My wolf lifted his head inside me, his golden eyes blazing as he howled, the sound tearing through my throat and into the night. It rose higher, sharper, fierce enough to split the silence of the forest.

The moon caught on the scar running along my jaw, silver against shadow, a reminder of everything I had survived.

I tilted my face to its light, breathing deep, and whispered into the night, “Hold on, Fianna. I’m coming.”

And the forest seemed to shift at my vow, the shadows bending, the wind carrying her scent stro
nger, as though the earth itself had chosen sides.

The Alpha’s Hunt had begun.