Chapter 31: The hunt
The forest was still half-asleep when we gathered in the clearing. Mist curled around the trees, the kind that clung to your boots and made the world feel hushed and secret.
I adjusted the strap of my quiver, still half-convinced I should’ve stayed in bed.
Tia stretched beside me, yawning. “You look like someone dragged you out of your coffin.”
“I feel like it,” I muttered, tightening the buckle on my arm guard.
Sebastian had already told me last night he wouldn’t be joining. “Pack meeting at dawn,” he’d said, all clipped and serious. Which was fine. Great, even. I didn’t want him watching me almost stab myself with an arrow.
But somehow that left Hardin in charge of the whole thing.
And that part… wasn’t fine.
Because now he was standing across the clearing, bow slung casually over his shoulder, sleeves rolled up, hair still damp from an early shower. And I was very aware of the fact that I was staring again.
“Rhi,” Tia murmured, elbowing me. “Close your mouth.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were.”
Before I could argue, Hardin’s voice carried over the morning air. “Listen up! The rules are simple. No shifting. Arrows and blades only. First one to take down a tiger wins.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd — warriors, a few guards, and Evelyn, of course, standing front and center like the hunt was her stage. Her white-and-gold outfit looked more like something you’d wear to a royal parade than into the woods.
She smiled sweetly at Hardin. “And the prize?”
Hardin gave a half-shrug. “Bragging rights.”
“Hmm,” she said, twirling an arrow between her fingers. “I think I’d prefer a trophy.”
“Then catch a tiger,” he said evenly.
Her laugh was soft and musical — the kind that made my teeth itch.
The horn sounded, cutting through the tension, and everyone moved to mount up.
Tia grabbed my wrist. “Come on.”
“Wait—”
“Don’t even try it,” she said, eyes narrowing. “You’re coming.”
“I told you, I wasn’t—”
But it was too late. She was already shoving a bow into my hands and pulling me toward the horses.
By the time I swung up into the saddle, Hardin was riding past. His horse was a massive black stallion that looked like it could crush me with one hoof. He slowed beside me, expression unreadable.
“I thought you said you weren’t coming.”
I cleared my throat. “Tia forced me.”
Behind me, Tia’s voice came out sing-song. “Liar!”
I shot her a glare that only made Hardin’s mouth twitch.
“Right,” he said, tone amused. “Tia forced you.”
“She did.”
“Then I guess I owe her one,” he murmured, leaning just slightly closer.
My pulse jumped. “Don’t bother.”
He smirked and rode off before I could say anything else.
Tia snickered. “You’re so obvious.”
“Shut up.”
The horn blew again, signaling the start, and suddenly the clearing exploded into motion — hooves pounding, arrows clinking, shouts echoing as the hunters fanned into the forest.
Tia and I took the eastern trail, where the fog hung thick and silver. Birds scattered as we moved through the undergrowth, our horses’ breaths visible in the cold air.
“This is insane,” Tia muttered, ducking under a low branch. “A tiger? Really?”
I scanned the trees. “It’s not that bad.”
“You say that now, wait till it decides to eat us.”
Somewhere ahead, a roar split the silence — deep and wild enough to rattle the ground.
Tia froze. “Oh hell no.”
“Come on,” I whispered, sliding off my horse.
We crept forward, bows drawn. My heartbeat felt too loud in my ears. The forest seemed to hold its breath with us — quiet, waiting.
Then a flash of orange moved through the fog.
“Tia—”
“I see it.”
The tiger moved like smoke, muscles rippling beneath its striped coat. It was bigger than I expected — easily twice my size.
Tia took a shot. The arrow whistled past, grazing its flank. The tiger snarled, the sound sharp and furious, and lunged.
“Run!” she yelled.
We dove behind a fallen log as claws slashed the air. My wolf surged under my skin, growling to shift, to fight, but I shoved the instinct down. No shifting. No cheating.
I rolled, drew another arrow, aimed — and released.
The arrow struck the tiger’s shoulder, making it stumble back with a roar before bolting deeper into the forest.
Tia exhaled shakily. “Okay… I’m voting we call that a moral victory and go home.”
I was about to agree when a voice behind us said, “Nice shot.”
I turned — and there he was again. Hardin. On foot now, bow in hand, eyes glinting in the pale light.
“Following us?” I asked.
“Checking on you,” he said simply. “Didn’t want you getting mauled before breakfast.”
“I had it under control.”
He glanced at the claw marks on the fallen log. “Sure you did.”
I glared at him, but my heart was still racing too fast to sound convincing.
He stepped closer, scanning the ground. “It’s bleeding. You hit it clean. Tracks go north.”
I followed his gaze — fresh pawprints pressed deep into the soil.
“Let’s finish it,” he said.
We moved together through the trees, quiet, careful. The mist thinned as the sun started to break through, painting everything gold. Somewhere ahead, a low growl rumbled again.
We crested a small ridge, and there it was — the tiger, wounded but defiant, watching us from a clearing.
Hardin lifted his bow. “On my mark.”
I nodded, drawing my own arrow.
The tiger tensed, muscles coiling.
“Now.”
Two arrows flew — his and mine — slicing through the air at the same moment. One hit the shoulder, the other the chest. The beast let out a final roar before collapsing into the ferns.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. The forest went still again, save for the soft rustle of leaves in the wind.
Then Hardin lowered his bow, glancing at me with a small, almost proud smile. “We did it.”
I exhaled. “Yeah.”
“Good teamwork, Little Wolf.”
I didn’t know whether to roll my eyes or smile. “You can’t call me that.”
“I just did.”
Before I could think of something clever to say, Tia burst through the trees, panting. “You— you actually killed it?”
“Technically, we both did,” Hardin said.
Tia grinned. “So… tie?”
“Tie,” he confirmed.
“Cute,” she said under her breath. “Very mate-coded.”
“Don’t start,” I warned.
She winked and turned away, calling for one of the warriors to come help drag the carcass back.
As Hardin and I stood there, the mist curling around our boots, he said quietly, “Guess you’re glad you came after all.”
I looked at him, at the faint smudge of dirt across his cheek, the calm glint in his eyes. “Maybe.”
He smiled — that slow, dangerous one. “Then I guess I am glad Tia forced you.”
My stomach did a strange little flip.
“Come on,” he said, picking up his bow again. “Let’s go before Evelyn starts asking where I am.”
That made me roll my eyes. “Yeah, wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.”
He glanced at me sideways, a hint of amusement in his gaze. “Jealous, Little Wolf?”
“Keep talking, and I’ll shoot you next.”
He laughed softly, the sound low and warm as the sun broke through the trees.
And as we walked back toward camp, side by side, I realized the part of me that said I didn’t care anymore was a liar.
Because I did — more than I wanted to admit.