Chapter 18

I tied my hair into a tight braid and wrapped it into a bun, smoothing down any flyaway hairs. Even though you needed the root of the hair to get accurate DNA, I refused to leave behind anything that could be evidence.

I left my room with the first light of dawn and slipped into an eerily quiet kitchen before heading to where the warriors got ready before training, knowing they would be outside now.

That night I watched them train, The Hunter wasn’t wearing the leather straps or weapons he seemed to always carry either, and his belt hung over the rickety fence with his keys attached.

He was either ignorant, which I doubted, or confident in his abilities not to find Dominick or Hudson’s trainers much of a threat. Or maybe he trusted them, but I doubted that too. I hoped whatever logic he applied to training with Nolan also applied to the Warriors.

I was happy to find that it did.

Hung up neatly was his belt hidden behind a faded black leather jacket. The keyring was nearly impossible to get off the belt, it was as if it were created like a puzzle, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it were. I didn’t have time to figure it out, and had to take the entire belt itself.

I wrapped it around my waist and pulled my shawl tight around me, holding the keys tight in my gloved hand so they wouldn’t jingle.

My heart rate started to accelerate, and I tried to slip back into the place that used to be second nature. Where logic overruled fear and calmness replaced the onslaught of emotions that arose during these situations.

I took even breaths to steady myself, focusing on my feet, and it eventually worked. The only thing that stress would do would make me prone to mistakes. I paused when I was far enough past the almost empty warrior and Omega dining hall and slipped into an alcove even though I knew no one would be heading this way.

I studied the keys. There were only five of them, but it was more than Alpha Raymond carried. I idly wondered where the other keys went.

A few moments later, a scream came from the direction of the kitchen. The sound of feet scuttling on carpet swelled and then dissipated completely. I peered out and slowly made my way past the open door, ensuring it was truly empty.

I had a minute, possibly less, but it would be enough—it had to be enough.

I tried to walk as quietly as I could over the smooth stone of the dining hall to the small black locked cabinet that sat on the end of a table full of clean silverware and dishes.

I pulled out the pronged key that I had chosen earlier and fumbled with the lock before it clicked open.

Without pausing, I opened the jar of dried food, the only thing in the cabinet, and was hit with an unpleasant earthy scent. I retrieved the pouch of powdered silent juniper. It didn’t really have a smell, but the taste could be a bit... unpleasant. His horrible food would mask it perfectly.

I poured in the measured powder, and for the first time, I felt slightly guilty about it.

The Hunter might have been innocent in ways—I guess most were—but in my story, the only story that mattered, he was my enemy—a threat to be nullified.

I shook the jar, distributing the powder, and set it back in place before quietly closing the door and locking it.

As I walked back through the hallway, I passed a few Omegas whispering, heading back to their abandoned early breakfast or coffee. Not one of them even so much as glanced in my direction.

I hadn’t created a distraction that could actually harm anyone, just one that would scare them. The first person to open the fridge would set it off. The jar I placed precariously would fall, shatter, and react with the powder on the floor to fizz and foam. Completely harmless but confusing nonetheless and provided me a few minutes of peace amidst their panic, and a clear room as the others out of duty or curiosity went to see what the panic was about.

I wiped the keys on my shawl even though my fingers were covered and hung them up in the same way I committed to memory, slowly closing the door behind me.

I let myself breathe and settle into the now familiar mix of relief and pure adrenaline that accompanied a mission completed. A mission successfully completed.

I had enough time to take a short walk. I stuck to the path I had been taking, walking past the training ring, both for the cold air to calm me, and to be seen, even though I knew there would be no need for an alibi.

After, I returned to my room to discard the shaw and gloves and stash the empty pouch that held the powder. I took down my braid from its coiled but and loosened it a little. My cheeks were pink from the cold and adrenaline, and I willed myself back into my mask, but that delicious feeling never fully left me.

I still did not have a well fleshed-out plan to take out The Hunter entirely. But he would start to weaken soon. He had to be gone before I started on the family, and I knew he wouldn’t leave on his own accord or whomever he was contracted to, not without finding the killer.

I toyed with the idea of somehow pinning the murders on someone else just so he would leave. One of the brothers would be easy enough, but I knew enough that in any world, even ours, money and status often were a plush rug that atrocities were easily swept under.

No, he had to be dealt with, so I could start my real revenge. I couldn’t wait anymore. Their deaths might not be as dragged out as I would have liked, but I needed their blood more than I needed anything else.

It would be satisfying either way—I would make it satisfying.

I pushed thoughts of their death away so the excitement wouldn’t show and focused on the carpet as I walked to breakfast.

Alice had appeared and seemed flustered I was already dressed. I told her I had been taking early walks for the air, and she still bustled around me, fixing my hair for something to do until she left me.

Thankfully, Luna Addison was sitting alone at the table when I walked in. She was rubbing her temples and either didn’t notice me or was just ignoring my existence entirely.

Alpha Raymond stomped in after we waited for him long enough that Luna Addison ordered our food to be served; she didn’t like starting without everyone there. Something that I might have respected if she were anyone else.

“What is it, dear?” Luna Addison asked her mate, clearly exasperated and not trying to hide it.

“Nothing.” He pulled out his seat, and it scratched loudly against the stone floor. I winced and slumped into myself.

“You continue to keep me out of the loop as if I’m not your mate and helping you run this goddess-damned pack,” she seethed.

I was mildly impressed.

“It’s nothing of concern. Why would I bother you with every insignificant detail? Every errant thought I’ve ever had?” he scoffed, pulling a plate of sausage towards him.

“I’m your mate,” Luna Addison emphasized every word.

“I don’t want to dive into a meaningless conversation I had,” he responded. When he looked at her; his face did seem tired and wary, these days more than usual.

“I want to,” she demanded crossed her arms, and jutted her chin towards him.

He sighed but gave in and said, “I just had a call, and I stated that I didn’t want Ezra here much longer.” He dug into his food.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. I told you, nothing of note.” He waved her off.

“Why do you want him gone? Has he found out the person behind it?” The Luna pressed.

“There is no one in this pack behind it,” Alpha Raymond growled and slammed his hands on the table, and Luna Addison jumped but glared at him.

“Nothing has happened since he’s been here,” Luna Addison shot back. Her eyes were slits. “Maybe they’re scared of him.” She glanced around as if an assassin would jump out from behind the curtain. She didn’t even look at me.

“I don’t want any outside interference; this is my pack.”

“Our pack,” she shot back, and The Alpha rolled his eyes.

The Luna did have a point; she did many times, actually. I was again grateful she was Luna of a pack that would never validate them.

If Alpha Raymond wanted The Hunter gone, who was stopping him? What was stopping him? Maybe if I could figure that out, then I could get him out another way, but even as that thought arose, I knew it would be too complicated. I didn’t have any ties, any sway. The only thing I had was the carefully constructed facade that I hid behind.

I just hoped that Alpha Raymond truly sent The Hunter away; it really would be a shame to have to kill him. I didn’t focus on that though, that strange guilty feeling that arose when I thought of his fate.

***

The day passed uneventfully. I saw The Hunter once with Nolan after dinner in the front hall. He looked the very same, but that was to be expected; that was what should have happened. I knew he would have eaten it, though. The Hunter seemed like a creature of habit; he would have to be to commit to eating something that horrible-looking for breakfast every day.

One of the few joys I had in life was from good food, and Amelia was a saint in the kitchen. I couldn’t imagine swapping that for something that might potentially fuel you a tiny bit more. Or maybe he was self-deprecating, forcing those mundane meals on himself as a sort of punishment.

I smiled to myself, thinking about his reasonings as I showered.

For the first time, there wasn’t any blood or minor cuts of my own to clean up after I completed a task. But I still felt like I needed to wash the day away.

Even after my shower, the weight of what happened today, what I did, clung to me. The adrenaline that followed me throughout the day was depleted, and worry crept to the edges of my mind.

What if I was making a mistake harming him? Was his life worth less than mine just because he was pitted against me because of his job? He didn’t even know he was against me, just the idea of a mystery killer.

I swallowed, shaking my head, and tried to focus on towel-drying my hair meticulously—anything to get my mind away from stewing about moral compass bullshit and something I couldn’t change now anyway.

I slipped on my nightgown and added another log to the blazing fire. It was a cold night, but the flames did little to quell the chill that settled inside me.

I tucked myself into bed, pulling the thick blanket over me. The fire cast shadows around the room, changing and moving and dancing across the walls.

On my windowsill, there sat an unmoving shadow made of inky midnight shadow sat perched. My heart felt as if it had stopped and then went into overdrive.

There was only one person who could have slipped past my sharp senses. Even without my wolf, I was vigilant, always careful, overly so.

It had to be him. It had to be The Hunter. But why?

I tried to swallow against a searing lump in my throat, but my mouth was dry.

His soft, thundery voice rippled out of him as he said, “You don’t think I know the taste of Silent Juniper when it’s powdered?”