Chapter 21: The Hunt for Answers
Chapter 21: The Hunt for Answers
Selene’s POV
The forest stank of wet earth and rot, mist so thick it clung to my skin like a damp shroud, cold and slimy. My bare feet sank into the muck, toes curling against the chill, jeans plastered to my legs, heavy with mud and blood from yesterday’s kill. The letter in my pocket burned against my thigh—golden wolf, blood ties, betrayal, curse—its ink bleeding into my thoughts, eating me alive. Ahead, Lucien prowled, boots squelching, his shirt soaked to his scarred chest, muscles flexing under the thin fabric, ice-blue eyes cutting through the gloom. Last night, his growl had pinned me to the wall—you’re mine, curse or not—his breath hot on my neck, stirring something dark and hungry in me. Now we chased the seer, the one who’d known my mother, who might unravel the howl tearing me apart, the curse sinking its claws deeper every damn day.
The air turned sour, a wet-dog reek hitting me hard—wolves, too close, stalking us. My green eyes flared, chest tightening, every muscle coiling tight. Lucien stopped dead, head snapping up, ice-blue slits glowing in the dim light, a growl rattling his throat, low and mean. “They’re here,” he spat, voice like gravel, boots shifting, his hand grazing mine—rough, warm, a spark igniting under my skin, hot and reckless. My pulse slammed, green eyes sharp, nodding fast, the forest closing in, mist choking the air. Dax’s scouts burst through the trees—golden fur matted with filth, claws glinting, their snarls thick and wet, charging us like death on four legs.
Lucien’s roar tore loose, raw and vicious, his body ripping into wolf form—fur bristling, claws slashing, a wall of muscle and fury. I didn’t wait, shifting fast, bones cracking loud, skin splitting, green eyes blazing as I dropped to all fours, claws gouging the dirt, feral and alive. The scouts hit us like a storm, gold fur slamming into me, claws ripping my side, blood spilling hot and fast. I snarled, fangs sinking into a throat, tearing deep, blood gushing over my tongue, thick and bitter, his howl dying in a wet gurgle. Lucien’s growl thundered, his jaws crunching bone, blood spraying dark across his fur, ice-blue eyes wild, locked on me for a split second—hot, fierce, pulling me in.
We fought back-to-back, fur slick with sweat and gore, his heat bleeding into me, raw and heavy. A scout lunged at him, claws aimed for his neck, and I crashed into it, teeth snapping, ripping its flank open, guts spilling into the mud, steaming and rank. Lucien’s growl turned soft, almost a purr, ice-blue flicking to me, his shoulder slamming mine, hard and deliberate, heat exploding low in my belly, dark and needy. My breath caught, green eyes burning, blood dripping from my jaws, the fight a mess of claws and screams—but him, damn him, his touch lit me up, steamy and wrong, dragging me under.
The last scout dropped, throat torn out, golden fur soaked black, body twitching in the sludge. My legs shook, chest heaving, blood streaking my fur, the forest dead quiet, mist curling like fingers around us. Lucien shifted, fur melting away, skin slick with sweat and blood, scars stretching tight across his chest, pants clinging low on his hips, raw and real. I followed, bones grinding, skin prickling, standing naked in the cold, breath ragged, green eyes locked on him, his heat still pounding through me, wild and thick.
He stepped close, boots sucking mud, ice-blue glinting, blood smeared across his jaw, his hand sliding up my arm—rough, hot, fingers digging in, sending a jolt straight to my core, wet and alive. “You’re a damn beast,” he rasped, voice low and torn, chest heaving, scars flexing as he leaned in, breath brushing my lips, spicy and dark. My pulse roared, green eyes fierce, stepping into him, bare skin grazing his shirt, heat coiling tight, steamy and reckless. “So are you,” I shot back, voice husky, green eyes daring him, fingers brushing his chest, feeling the thud of his heart, wild and hard. “We’re not done—seer’s still out there.”
His growl rumbled, deep and dirty, hand clamping my wrist, scars rough against my skin, his grip tight, possessive, heat flooding me, dark and dripping. “Then we hunt,” he said, voice thick, stepping forward, his hip brushing mine, hard and hot, pulling me along, damn it, pulling me deep. The forest swallowed us, mist swirling, pines groaning, the air heavy with blood and secrets, something twisted and alive stalking us both.
A dim light glowed ahead, sickly yellow, a shack slumped between gnarled roots, its door half-rotted, firelight leaking out like pus. My gut twisted, green eyes narrowing, pulse hammering, alive and sharp. Lucien’s growl buzzed, low and tight, his hand brushing mine again, warm and firm, a promise carved in flesh. We slipped inside, the air choking with smoke and rot, an old hag crouched by the fire, blind eyes white as bone, her voice scratching the silence. “Took you long enough,” she croaked, head cocked, milky gaze slicing through us, alive and cruel.
My throat locked, green eyes wide, stepping closer, bare feet silent on the packed dirt. “You knew my mother,” I said, voice steady, green eyes burning into her. “The howl, the curse—tell me how to kill it.” Her lips split, a grin like cracked earth, voice hissing low. “The howl’s your chain and your fang,” she said, firelight clawing her face, shadows dancing, alive and twisted. “Ties you to the golden wolf, the traitor—and him.” Her bony finger stabbed at Lucien, his growl snapping sharp, ice-blue flaring, scars tightening, alive and pissed.
My chest caved, green eyes blazing, stepping closer, the air thick and rancid. “What the hell does that mean?” I snarled, voice cutting, green eyes wild, desperation clawing me raw. Her grin stretched, teeth black, voice dropping to a hiss. “Your blood’s tangled—curse and lust, death and fire. Break it as one, or burn as one.” My heart slammed, green eyes wide, then slitting, fierce and alive, her words sinking claws into me, cold and vicious, dragging me down.
Lucien’s growl turned feral, hand locking on my arm, heat surging through me, dark and molten. “How?” he barked, voice rough, ice-blue stabbing her, unyielding and hot. She laughed, a wet, broken sound, her body flickering, dissolving into smoke, the shack emptying, fire choking out. “Rip out the curse’s heart,” her voice lingered, thin and sharp, “or it rips out yours.” Then nothing—silence, cold, the air dead, her gone.
My breath broke, green eyes fierce, Lucien’s grip bruising, his heat the only thing real, alive and savage. “What was that?” I whispered, voice cracking, green eyes locked on his, fear and fury twisting me open. His growl softened, ice-blue glinting, his thumb brushing my pulse, slow and rough, stirring me deep, dark and wet. “A damn trap,” he rasped, stepping closer, chest pressing mine, scars hot against my skin, heat pooling low, steamy and wild. “We’re tied, Selene—you and me. Curse can burn us, but I’ll burn with you.”
My chest split, green eyes fierce, his words carving into me, raw and heavy, damn it, sinking deep. Tied to him—this heat, this blood, this fight—alive and brutal, relentless. I nodded, sharp, green eyes burning, pulling back, his hand lingering, scars flexing, the for
est dark and silent, waiting, hungry.