Chapter 9
The kitchen was a crash of pots and squeals from the wolves sitting around the table in the adjoined Great Hall.
Jaxon would share what the Table had decided today, and the castle hummed with excitement.
It wasn’t the best day for Gabe to take off, but he’d covered for me more times than I could list.
Twenty minutes later, the food was close to perfection. I moved with practiced efficiency, a memorized dance, layering the heavy oak table with platters of roasted meat and seasoned vegetables.
I turned for the kitchen when Beka spat, “Watch it.”
She sat in a skin-tight black strapless dress, her blond hair held up by a clawed clip.
Her blue eyes narrowed. Her disgust made one thing clear: I didn’t deserve to breathe the same air.
Her gaze flickered past me, searching for a man I had no interest in, her expression shifting for a split second into something desperate.
When her focus snapped back to me, it was predatory.
She wasn’t just bullying someone beneath her; she was sizing up the competition she shouldn’t have to acknowledge.
I let my gaze sweep over her—from the clawed clip to the straining seams of her dress—before offering a slow, unimpressed arch of my brow.
Beka’s methods were elementary, and I didn’t give her the satisfaction of entertaining her; I simply turned my back, ignoring her.
Alpha Jaxon strode in with Luna Emilia on his arm.
She wore a sweeping gown of forest-green silk, deep and mossy under the moonlight, her throat adorned with a ruby necklace.
Beside her, Jaxon was clad in a charcoal designer shirt, the fabric strained across his shoulders, with a leather harness that looked more like it was meant for a weapon than for show.
He didn’t need to be announced; his presence did all the talking.
I finished placing the last of the platters as the Alpha and Luna took their seats.
I retreated through the wide stone archway that separated the Hall from the kitchen.
I didn’t stop until I reached the center island, where the shadows of the work area provided safety.
Alpha Jaxon stood. The noise dropped and people sat straighter.
To his right, my gaze faltered on Shane.
The prince wasn’t looking at the Alpha; he was locked on me through the archway, his eyes tracking the frantic pulse in my neck from across the room.
For a moment, neither of us moved. Then, feigning boredom, he lifted his glass and took a slow, deliberate sip—his eyes never leaving mine over the rim.
It was a private performance. A reminder that he could look as long as he wanted, and there wasn’t a soul in this room who would stop him.
“The Table has reached a consensus!” his voice boomed, echoing through the tall ceiling and bouncing off the walls. “It’s sudden, but in two days’ time, we depart for the North. The Mating Festival will be held at Desert Moon!”
A collective gasp shattered the silence, followed by a frenzy of cheers and howling that made the hardwood tremble beneath my feet.
“As for the date of the Hunt…” Jaxon raised a hand, and the room went back to the breathless hush. A knowing grin split his face. “That is for the Goddess to decide. You will know when the moon tells you. Prepare yourselves.”
The Hunt wasn’t just a tradition; it was part of pack life. By keeping the date a secret, the Table held a psychological leash over their citizens—a reminder that while we lived in a modern world, our lives were still governed by their whims.
At the moon’s peak, the Alpha would release the tether, and every unmated male would shift, their souls consumed by one need driving them forward—to find their fated match. To the pack, it was a holy union. To me, it was a harvest. And I was one of the things being gathered.
The mystery caught through the room, a spark finding kindling.
The energy would have been contagious if not for the dread that seeped into my bones.
Women checked their reflection in their spoons, others in their cameras, and the males sat taller, their eyes glazed over with their minds on the hunt.
A hand caught my elbow.
“Two days, Ady! Only two days!” Mavy hissed, her eyes wide and sparkling with a manic sort of joy. She was vibrating in her seat. “We’re already ahead of the game, we got almost everything we needed yesterday. The stores are going to be packed until we leave!”
I forced a smile. “I’ll be fine.”
“Fine? Ady, this is Desert Moon.” She scoffed and leaned in closer, her voice dropping to an excited whisper that ignored the way my heart was trying to claw its way out of my ribs.
“The King of the North is hosting. Every high-ranking Alpha from the coast is flying in. You aren’t going to be ‘fine.’ For the first time in your life, you’re actually going to be seen. ”
Her words were meant to be a promise, but they landed as a threat. To be seen by a room full of predators wasn’t a dream—it was a target on my back.
I patted her hand, my fingers icy. “I need some air. My head is spinning.”
I pushed back from the heavy oak, my legs trembling, but Mavy’s hand tightened.
“Adea.”
She leveled me with a look that said, ‘Don’t argue.’ There were two plates in front of her, filled with food I’d spent hours preparing. Her silver eyes tracked me with a quiet, sisterly precision. She patted the seat beside her. “Sit.”
“I’m not hungry, Mavy.”
“I didn’t ask.” She slid the second plate toward the empty chair.
I looked at her for a long moment. She didn’t look away. That was the thing about Mavy—she never tried to fix you. She sat with you until you forgot you were broken. Normally, I was thankful for that, but tonight, I felt trapped.
I forced myself to sit. Every clink of my fork against the ceramic was a countdown.
Around us, the excitement roared into a celebration, and I swallowed a few bites—enough to satisfy the alpha in her blood—until she finally leaned back and released her grip.
I didn’t wait for her to change her mind.
I rose to my feet, made myself small, and got out of there.
I didn’t stop to grab a coat. I slipped through the back exit, the cool evening air hitting me hard, sharp against my skin. The noise faded behind me as I crossed the driveway and hit the gravel that turned into the damp pine-needle floor of the woods.
The woods swallowed me immediately, the dark settling around my shoulders, familiar and welcome.
I exhaled, the first full breath I’d taken all day.
This was mine. The only thing that had ever been mine.
No rank. No bloodline. No decree from a Table of Alphas.
Only the cool waters, the pine needles, and the sky twinkling between the branches above me.
I stalled by the waters; I was desperate to sink beneath the surface and let the silence do its work. A prickle at my nape had me looking over my shoulder.
I didn’t move.
I was imagining it. I was letting him get under my skin.
“Run faster, little wolf.”
The memory of his voice crawled up my spine.
“Dick,” I muttered under my breath, squeezing my eyes shut. I refused to be driven from the only place that belonged to me.
I stayed, but didn’t undress. The feeling of being watched never left.
It nagged at the corners of my mind, patient and certain.
When I finally made my way back, I walked faster than usual, my skin crawling with the sensation of a heavy gaze following me through the trees.
I kept my eyes on the path, but in the back of my mind, I saw the shredded bark on the cedars and the fresh scratches that marred the trunks. Someone had been here.
I pushed the thought away, but failed.
I walked faster anyway.