A Preview of Samuel
BLAKE
The howls echoed through the trees—low, guttural, and terrifying. Not just one, but two.
The job description had said one rogue shifter.
Whoever had filed that intel needed a good beating. My heart pounded against my chest as I tried to keep up with Gordon.
His longer stride was effortless compared to my ragged pace.
My stamina had never been the best—disappointingly average as my deceased parents always said—and tonight, it was failing me.
Each gasp of air felt like it was tearing through my lungs.
We weren’t the hunters anymore. We were the prey.
I glanced around, but the trees of the Grey Arrow Forest all blurred into a repeating maze of branches and shadows.
Every direction looked the same. There were no paths, no familiar landmarks.
The rogue shifters were too fast for us to stay in one place for long anyway, so we’d just been running—no plan, no strategy.
Just trying to survive.
I stumbled over a thick, fallen branch, and pain shot through my leg.
I hit the ground hard, my knife digging painfully into my hip as I skidded to a stop.
“Gordon!” I called out, barely able to catch my breath.
I wasn’t sure if I was calling for help or just out of sheer panic.
Gordon turned, his dark eyes assessing me like I was a piece of meat already half-dead.
The cold calculation in his gaze didn’t surprise me.
Hunters of the Guild were trained to be ruthless, self-sufficient. A liability like me? I didn’t stand a chance.
“We have to split up,” he said, his voice hard and clipped, not even bothering to offer me a hand. “Take on the two rogues separately.”
It took everything in me to swallow the sting of his words. Hunters didn’t coddle each other.
We weren’t partners; we were competitors for survival, and Gordon wasn’t about to sacrifice his life for me.
That wasn’t the way of the Guild.
“Fine,” I managed through clenched teeth as I got to my feet.
Pain flared through my left leg. I must’ve sprained it when I fell, but I couldn’t stop now. I couldn’t afford to.
“We’ll split,” I said.
“Headquarters,” Gordon yelled over his shoulder, not even bothering to wait for me.
Then, he was gone, sprinting into the darkness like the cold-blooded survivor he was.
Sweat poured down my forehead, stinging my eyes as I limped on, trying to put as much distance as possible between myself and the howls.
The forest was quieter now—too quiet. The rogues had gone silent, but I knew they were still there, stalking us.
Their growls were closing in, too close. I could feel their eyes on me.
The chills racing down my spine were almost unbearable, but I forced myself to keep moving, hobbled as I was.
I wasn’t ready to die.
Not like this. Not hunted down like some cornered animal in the middle of nowhere.
I still had things I wanted to do, dreams I hadn’t had the chance to live out yet.
I’d never gotten the courage to confess to Cal, a senior hunter. A small, bitter laugh escaped my throat.
What a stupid thing to think about when death was breathing down my neck.
But it hit me hard now—how much I’d wanted to feel something real, beyond the quick and dirty hookups that I engaged in for stress relief.
Romance was a distraction, they said.
An unnecessary complication for a hunter. And maybe they were right, but damn it, I wanted more.
I wanted to experience what it was like to be in a relationship, for once in my miserable 24 years.
But that wasn’t going to happen now, was it?
I reached for my weapons, feeling the empty space where my gun should’ve been. Out of silver bullets.
That had been my first mistake—listening to Gordon and wasting them early on.
The bastard had probably been conserving his own ammunition. My hand found the hilt of my last knife.
The others had been lost in the chaos of the chase, and now this one was my only defense against two rogue shifters who were probably seconds away from tearing me apart.
I limped on, every step a reminder of how little time I had left. I could almost feel their breath on the back of my neck. This was it.
I wasn’t remarkable. I wasn’t some Guild prodigy with a long list of accomplishments to my name.
No one would mourn me. Well, except maybe Finn.
Finn was different. Unlike the rest of us, he hadn’t lost himself in the brutal training.
He still smiled, still had this inexplicable light inside him, like he was too good for the darkness we’d all fallen into.
Finn was sunshine in a world of shadows, and I envied him for that.
If Finn had been with me, maybe things would’ve been different. But it was too late for that now.
My breath came in ragged gasps as I stumbled into a clearing.
The trees opened up, revealing an expanse of nothingness ahead of me. A steep drop.
I was at the edge of a cliff.
There was no way out except a small tunnel on the far side of the clearing, barely wide enough for me to crawl through. But if I got in there, I’d be trapped.
It was a dead end. This was where I’d make my stand.
The growls returned, closer now, more menacing. My hands were shaking, the knife slick in my grip.
I couldn’t run anymore. I could barely even stand.
The pain in my leg was making it harder to focus, but I couldn’t afford to give in to the fear. Not yet.
The bushes at the edge of the clearing rustled, and the first rogue werewolf emerged.
Its eyes gleamed in the dim light, glowing a sickly yellow, its body twisted and malformed from the loss of its human side.
The smell hit me first—rancid, feral, like rotting meat.
I tightened my grip on the knife, though I knew it wouldn’t be enough.
Rogue shifters were far stronger than any normal beast, their sheer brutality unmatched by anything human.
The second rogue appeared a few moments later, its maw hanging open in a grotesque snarl, dripping saliva as it circled around me, waiting for the right moment to strike.
My heart pounded so hard it felt like it would explode.
This was it.
The first rogue lunged.
I barely had time to react. I slashed out with the knife, catching it across the snout, but it wasn’t enough to stop it.
The force of its attack knocked me off my feet, and I hit the ground hard, the air driven from my lungs.
Pain shot through my side, and for a moment, I couldn’t move.
The rogue was on top of me in an instant, its jaws snapping inches from my face.
I shoved the knife into its throat, the blade sinking deep into muscle and flesh, but it barely flinched.
Blood spurted onto my hands as I twisted the blade, trying to get it to back off.
But it wasn’t enough. The second rogue charged, its eyes gleaming with vicious intent.
I rolled to the side, pulling the knife free from the first beast just as the second one’s claws swiped where my head had been.
I scrambled to my feet, my leg screaming in protest as I forced myself to stay upright. My vision blurred with the effort.
Sweat soaked through my shirt, sticking the black camo fabric to my skin.
My breath came in harsh, uneven gasps, but I wasn’t dead yet. And as long as I wasn’t dead, I’d fight.
With a snarl, the first rogue charged again. This time, I thought I was ready, but I barely dodged the creature’s attack.
Blood dripped from my fingers, my last knife lost somewhere on the forest ground. My breaths came in shallow, painful gasps.
I fought to stay on my feet, but I knew I was already on borrowed time.
“Screw this,” I muttered, though my voice was barely more than a ragged whisper.
My vision swam as I looked toward the tunnel—the only slim chance of survival.
But then my gaze shifted to the two rogue shifters, circling me like predators sizing up their next meal.
Their glowing yellow eyes seemed to gleam with excitement, and I swore I could almost hear their thoughts: Dinner is served.
I winced as one of them lunged at me. It was fast, too fast for me to dodge in time.
Its claws dug deep into my sprained ankle, dragging across the already tender flesh.
Pain exploded up my leg, and I couldn’t stop the scream that tore from my throat.
My body buckled, and I collapsed to the ground, barely able to move.
Another one was coming—snarling, jaws snapping, too close.
Panic gripped me, and with the last bit of strength I had left, I made a desperate lunge for the tunnel.
My heart hammered in my chest as I hit the dirt, scrambling on hands and knees, clawing my way into the tight, narrow space.
The rogues followed, their guttural growls sending chills down my spine. But the hole was too small for them to fit through.
For a moment, I let out a shaky breath of relief. I was safe— for now .
But the sound of their snarls outside reminded me this was temporary.
I couldn’t stay in here forever, and the bastards were probably smart enough to wait me out.
My leg throbbed, and I bit down on my lip to keep from screaming again.
The tunnel was dark and damp, the air heavy with the scent of earth and moss.
I crawled forward, dragging my bad leg behind me, gritting my teeth against the pain. Time passed—maybe hours, maybe minutes.
The darkness was disorienting, the walls pressing in on all sides.
Good thing I wasn’t claustrophobic, though I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last in this cramped space.
Then, the snarls stopped.
I froze, my heart racing. Had they given up? My ears strained to pick up any noise, but there was nothing—just eerie silence.
I had two choices now: either retrace my steps and risk running into them again, or push forward and hope this tunnel led somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t a dead end.
Rogue shifters were strong, but in our training, they’d always told us they were dumb, more animal than human.
But those rogues back there… they were coordinated, like they knew exactly what they were doing.
Gordon and I never stood a chance.
Gordon. A bitter taste filled my mouth at the thought of him, the selfish bastard.
He was probably back at the truck by now, on his way to headquarters, leaving me to rot.
I could almost see him giving his report to the Elders, telling them how I’d been tragically torn apart by rogues.
And Finn… My cousin Finn would be bawling his eyes out at my service, thinking I’d died in some heroic blaze of glory.
You’re not dead yet, Blake , I reminded myself. I kept crawling, the tunnel narrowing with every inch.
The air was thick and stifling, but as I dragged myself farther, I caught a glimpse of something—was that a spot of light up ahead?
My heart skipped a beat. It was nearly sunset when we’d started the hunt, but Gordon had insisted we finish it before nightfall.
It had to be nighttime by now, which meant… maybe that was moonlight.
Encouraged, I inched forward, the scent of cool, fresh air filling my lungs.
The tunnel was tight, my shoulders scraping against the rocky walls, but I pushed on.
I wasn’t about to give up now, not when freedom was just within reach.
The light grew brighter, and I could smell the forest beyond—trees, earth, life.
Finally, I saw it—the exit. A small hole, barely big enough for me to squeeze through.
I pressed my fingers against the rock, finding it soft, more like clay or mud.
I dug my fingers in, pulling at the earth, forcing the gap wider until I could drag myself through.
With a final, desperate push, I collapsed onto the moist, tall grass outside.
For a few moments, I just lay there, flat on my back, staring up at the night sky.
Stars blinked down at me through the trees, and the cool air felt like heaven on my face.
Free.
I couldn’t believe I’d made it. Somehow, against all odds, I was alive.
My body felt like it had been through hell, but at least I was out of that tunnel. At least I was safe.
I let my eyes drift shut, exhaustion pulling at me.
Maybe I could sleep for just a few minutes—just long enough to catch my breath.
But then, I smelled it.
A putrid, rotten stench filled the air above me, and something warm and sticky dripped onto my face.
My eyes snapped open, and there it was—piss-colored eyes glaring down at me.
One of the rogues stood over me, its breath hot and foul, its jaws hanging open, saliva dripping from its teeth.
The second rogue lurked just behind it, its hulking shadow moving closer.
Panic gripped me, my muscles frozen in place. They’d found me.
How? How had they followed me through the tunnel? They’d probably taken another route.
My brain struggled to process what was happening, but I couldn’t think, couldn’t move.
My body screamed at me to run, to fight, to do something, but all I could do was stare at the monster looming over me, waiting for the inevitable.
I wasn’t going to make it this time.
The rogue’s snarl deepened, and its claws flexed, ready to tear me apart.
And just as it lunged, I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the pain that would follow.
But then—nothing.