Chapter 55

Chapter 55
Abigail's POV

The day of the Hunt had finally come.

The morning fog hadn't fully lifted when I reached the stone assembly plaza on the edge of Silver Wolf Forest. Eligible wolves from all twelve packs had already gathered on the worn flagstones, tension and exhilaration braided together in the air. A hundred young, powerful bodies were about to be turned loose into the wild, and the restlessness rolled through the crowd like an invisible wave of heat—nerves, hunger, and the sharp edge that only ambition could hone.

I wore dark gray leather armor, fitted close, my hair bound back tight, so that nothing—no branch, no claw—would catch me in a fight. The short blade Nicholas had given me during training sat at my hip, positioned just right, close enough to draw without looking down. My pendant lay hidden inside my collar, cool against my skin.

Two months of training had changed the way I stood, and the way I carried my weight. Moving through the crowd now, I could feel plainly that those changes had been written into my body.

Something else had changed too.

Deep in my chest, my wolf was pulsing—faint, but unmistakable. Compared to two months ago, it had grown stronger by several times, as if some great beast had finally rolled over in its sleep and begun to slowly stretch its limbs. Without thinking, I pressed my palm flat to my sternum, as though that alone could soothe it.

"Abi!"

Elodie's voice reached me through the noise before I saw her. She shoved her way through the crowd toward me, dressed in dark green hunting leathers, a longbow slung across her back, looking as excited as if she'd come to a festival instead of a trial that could get us killed.

She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the two young women waiting a few steps away.

"These are the two I told you about." Elodie jerked her chin at them. "Finn and Dara, from Nighthowl. We practically grew up rolling in the dirt together. Don't let the pretty faces fool you—either of them could put you flat on your back."

Finn, the taller of the two, gave a soft snort and looked me over. Her gaze was frank, not offensive, but it didn't hide its curiosity either.

"So you're the one who saved the Matriarch?" she said. "You look smaller than the stories."

"The stories always do that," I answered.

Dara laughed once, short and easy. In that moment I knew she was the kind who said whatever came to mind. I liked them both almost at once.

Four women, not a single man. A team like this wouldn't stand out in the crowd, and wouldn't easily draw unwanted attention—which suited me exactly.

While they went on with their pleasantries, I scanned the plaza out of habit, filing away faces and banners. That was when I noticed her.

She stood beneath the Greywolf banner, tall and blonde, dressed in silver-gray hunting leathers. Everything about her radiated a cold, arrogant beauty—from the slight tilt of her chin to the deliberate distance she kept from the wolves around her, every detail announcing her status and her sense of superiority.

But what truly caught my eye wasn't her beauty. It was her gaze.

That gaze, as if drawn by a magnet, was locked firmly on the northern side of the plaza, where the security detail was forming up.

Locked on where Nicholas stood.

"That one," Elodie said, leaning in close and lowering her voice, "Selena Greywolf. Only daughter of the Greywolf Alpha."

Her tone was casual, as though she were mentioning it in passing, but her eyes were sharp.

"Noble blood, and no weakling either—she's already awakened." Here Elodie paused, then suddenly nudged my arm with her elbow, a note of gleeful mischief in her voice. "The point is—she's been in love with Nicholas for years now. In Silver City it's barely even a secret."

Something in my chest tightened, though I let nothing show on my face.

"Her father has always wanted to make the match happen," Elodie went on. "Winter and Greywolf joined together—their strength combined would truly be something to fear."

She shrugged, then turned her head to look at me, the glint in her eyes impossible to hide.

"I've lost count of how many times she's tried to get close to Nicholas over the years. Every feast, every council ceremony, she'd find a way to appear in front of him. Pity—he's never once given her a response." She dragged out the last words. "Still, in the noble circles of Silver City, everyone thinks she's the most likely candidate to become Winter's Luna... What is it, Abi? Why is your face so tight? I didn't say anything."

"What's wrong with my face?" I answered flatly, pulling my gaze back from Selena.

Elodie grinned, clearly unconvinced, but had the sense not to press further.

The hand at my side, though, clenched almost against my will for an instant.

The most likely candidate to become Winter's Luna.

The words settled somewhere deep in my chest, colder than the morning air. I knew I cared, and I hated that I could let a rumor like this unsettle me.

I forced the sourness back down and took up the composure I was supposed to have.

Just then, the security detail marched in from the northern side of the plaza. Their boots struck the stone in unison, steady and imposing.

Nicholas walked at the front, in full black war armor, the Alpha pressure radiating from him making the competitors nearest him flinch back on instinct. The crowd all but parted for him without realizing it.

My heart betrayed me at once, quickening beyond my control again.

I watched his figure cut through the crowd, like a blade drawn clean from its sheath. Even knowing I should look away, I couldn't help stealing one more glance.

I forced my eyes off him.

But in the very instant I did, I felt it—a gaze landing on me. It cut straight through the crowd and came to rest on me.

I raised my eyes.

Across the crowded plaza, Nicholas's gaze met mine, and lingered there for a moment. Then he inclined his head, the motion so slight I nearly thought I'd imagined it. The next breath, he'd already turned back to face his men, resuming his orders as if nothing had passed between us.

Yet that single moment of attention poured something solid and quiet into my chest. It hushed the noise in my head, and let the flutter that the rumor had stirred settle, soundlessly, by a few degrees.

I turned my gaze to the other end of the plaza, to the banner of the Crimson Fang pack.

Olivia stood there, in white hunting leathers, her smile gentle as she spoke in low tones with her teammates. What truly stopped my gaze was her team. And the longer I looked, the heavier my heart grew.

They were four, the same as us.

Two of them I recognized—both were trusted members of Evelyn's family. The sort who might be skilled at calculation and flattery, but who had never once fought for their lives on a hunting ground.

The third was Megan, Olivia's personal attendant, who followed her nearly everywhere she went.

From any angle, this was not a team assembled to bring down prey and win the Hunt.

I turned the clues over coldly in my mind.

Deep in the wilderness, far from guards and witnesses, an "accident" could be arranged without a single leak. Afterward, even if someone grew suspicious, they might never find any proof.

What method she would use, I couldn't yet say. But one thing at least was clear enough—I could not walk into that forest unguarded. I had to stay vigilant at all times.

As if sensing my gaze on her, Olivia turned her head across the crowd and found me with perfect precision.

Her smile deepened, warm and sweet, and she even lifted a hand to wave lightly at me.

That face, that gesture—to anyone who didn't know the truth, it would look like nothing more than a tender greeting between sisters.

I sneered inwardly, but on my face I returned only a faint, thin smile.