Chapter 1
Paisley
One doesn’t just become a hunter. No matter how much blood, sweat and tears they endure. No amount of courage or drive they have will aid them in their endeavors. It will all be for not. And the reason you ask? Because to be a hunter, one must be born from a line of hunters. It isn’t as glamourous as one would think. Especially if one is born from the Elite.
My father, Simon Theodore Alexander, was an Elite. He was well regarded by many. Some would think being a daughter of such a legendary man that things would be easy for me. It was quite the opposite. It didn’t take long for me to comprehend that more was expected from his children. Me more so than my brother Damion Sebastian Alexander. With my father’s recent passing, Damion took over as leader. And for the last three months, I’ve been able to let my guard down. For the first time, I could finally breathe.
My eyes stayed glued to the marble headstone of my parents. A bouquet of Lily of the Valley lay at the base where I placed like clockwork on my mother’s birthday. I was told that it was her favorite. She died shortly after she gave birth to me. Growing up, Damion told me stories of what he remembered of her. According to him she was loving and cheerful. Until one day it was as if her beacon of light had been stripped of her. Damion claimed it was before I was born. As I grew older, I started to believe him once I saw the true colors of my father.
I looked over my slender shoulder. “I am ready.”
“Finally.” A set of vibrant green eyes taunted me. Hanzel slapped his leather gloved hands together before rubbing them swiftly. He was freezing. I too was quite cold with my heated jacket and gloves. His comment may come across as cold to some, but I knew it was quite the opposite. He was trying his best to make light of the situation. My childhood was never one to envy.
A slight lift from the corner of my mouth escaped. “Don’t be such a girl.”
“I should never have told you about my distaste for that remark.”
“Wasn’t quite your fault,” I replied. “I did get you slobbering drunk before I drilled you with insignificant questions.”
“Insignificant questions?” He raised a brow. “It was an interrogation.”
A light smile crossed my face.
“And you call me your friend.”
“Best friend,” I corrected.
“Well, that’s a given. I’m the only friend you’ve got.”
Our laughter intertwined as I bumped into him with my shoulder. Having six inches on my five-foot-seven slim frame, it was clear his stumble in footing was by his mocking efforts.
A light tickle spread across my eyelash making me reach up and pluck the culprit. The delicate crystal melted quickly against my gloved fingers, making me smile. “It’s snowing.”
Hanzel didn’t remark against the obvious of having snowed for the last two months.
“I love winter.” I looked up admiring the blanketed sky of clouds as they released billions of snowflakes. I’ll never tire of the site. It was beautiful. Especially the snow patches that gathered on the long branches of the pine trees.
“I know.” He cleared his throat, and I knew it was to cover up the melancholy in his tone. Nearly two years had passed since that awful winter, and he still recalled it as if it were yesterday.
The house came into view and the smell of burning pine filled my nostrils. Smoke rolled from the chimneys. In the last week, the temperature had warmed to mid-thirties, yet my brother had ordered for the fireplaces to continue brimming with heat. Of course, that was for me. And me alone. Another reminder that my brother was my keeper from the cruelty of my late father. It wasn’t necessary of course. I was more than capable of taking care of myself. I knew it. He knew it. And Hanzel knew it. Still, it didn’t stop either of them from coming to my rescue. Well, as much as they were able to anyway.
“I heard him order the servants to add kindle to all the fireplaces before I followed you out this morning.”
“Typical Damion,” I tried to play off. I hoped that would ease the tension radiating from Hanzel.
“Nice try princess.” He threw his arm around my neck and tugged me to his side.
Following the pathway, we crest the hill in time to hear the gravel popping beneath tires before two black SUVs pulled up in our driveway.
“Just in time?”
“According to your timing or your brothers?” Hanzel grinned.
“Mine, of course.” We both knew that Damion preferred me to be standing at his side when company arrived. Especially when the company was here on business.
“Then I agree. . . Your perfectly on time.”
The front door to opened and I spotted my brother immediately with Veronica latching to his arm. He claimed she’s not his girlfriend, but I have my doubts about that. For ‘not being exclusive’ (his words) they sure are inseparable. She followed him everywhere. I didn’t mind her Per Se, but I think he could do better. I see why he’s attracted to her though. She has an athletic body and large breasts. She is quite pretty. The downfall is that she knew it and used it to her advantage. I’s quite nauseating really.
Checking his watch, Damion whispered to her, and a frown formed on her lips. Her little pout annoyed me. I caught her eye roll when she dropped her arm from his. Her heels clicked on the steps as she descended the stairs. I wanted to laugh when she climbed in her car and pulled out of the driveway. She didn’t peel off, but she did leave in a hurry.
Now spotting me, a furrow formed between Damion’s brows. I knew that’ll be the extent of my punishment from him, and I smiled back. His frown deepened just before he tossed me a wink, along with a slight grin.
“Sucker,” Hanzel whispered to me. “I think he almost adores you as much as I do.”
I watched as my uncle, Jacob Ellingham, Leader of Arrow, exit the vehicle and join my brother on the porch. Giving one another a half hug, handshake brotherly greeting, they fell into conversation. When I was a child, I always eavesdropped on conversations. I felt the need to for survival purposes.
“Good morning, Paisley.” Jacob smiled as I climbed the steps. “Hanzel.”
“Mornin’.” Hanzel shook Jacob’s hand.
“Uncle,” I smiled back.
“How’ve been?”
That was a tricky question. To most, when a parent dies, they have a feeling of permanent loss. A pain rips through their chest. In hindsight, they grieve. I have never experienced that. My mother passed before I could ever have any recollection of her. But I knew he wasn’t referring to my mother. No— His inquiry pertained to that of my father. And unless one was from my clan High Mountain, one didn’t know what my father’s hand was capable of. Jacob may be my uncle, but I was almost positive he wasn’t aware of my father’s true nature. I haven’t grieved for my father. And I never will.
“We’re getting by.” I hated to lie. But I wasn’t proud of the scars lingering on my back. Nor did I want anyone to know about them. Correction, anyone else to know about them.
Instead of the typical ‘I’m sorry for your loss or He’ll be missed’, Jacob offered a lopsided smile. I didn’t know what to make of his blank stare. “I know your father and I didn’t particularly like one another, but I would have come to the funeral had you extended an invitation.”
“We wanted to keep it private,” Damion replied. It was an understatement of a lifetime. The only ones that attended were Damion, Hanzel, me and Vincent (a fellow fighter who did the digging).
“Shall we go in?” I asked.
“After you.” Damion stepped aside motioning for me to go in.
The moment I entered my face was hit with warmth. I inwardly smiled at my brother’s kindness. I quickly shed my coat and gloves, then handed them to our butler Anthony.
“Thank you.”
“Anything for you, Paisley,” Anthony smiled kindly.
I left everyone as they poured into the house handing Anthony their coat and gloves. No, I didn’t miss the comments of our guests criticizing how hot the house was.
“I see you’ve redecorated.” My uncle motioned to the décor.
“I did,” Damion said.
He didn’t want to dive into the details. Few knew as to the reason. Truth was, Damion had ordered all the werewolf heads that were mounted as trophies to be discarded the day my father died. For now, I’ll leave it at that.
Taking the staircase, I turned down the long hallway to my left before pushing my way through the door of Damion’s study. Seeing a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows perched on the end table beside one of the chairs made me smile. Next to it, were two vitamins I took twice a day. I sat just as the men entered the room.
“At least this room isn’t stifling.” Grant, Jacobs right hand man, blurted.
Though we’ve known the majority of the members of Arrow since birth— Grant being one of them, I saw the slight glare my brother sent his way, but Grant was too preoccupied in conversation with his fellow comrades to notice.
“So, what do we owe this pleasure, Jacob?” Damion started the meeting as he took his place behind his carved mahogany desk. The room fell in silence. Popping both vitamins in my mouth, I began sipping on my hot coco.
“We’ve been having rogues wandering onto our territory daily going on two weeks now. First week only a few showed up at a time. Last week, however, half a dozen showed up. We managed to capture one. Interrogated him. Took three days before he gave in. Said they were looking for a girl.”
“What girl?” Though my brother’s tone was non-cholent, he was intrigued. As was I.
“Didn’t say.”
“Is he—”
“He’s dead.” Jacob interrupted. “If Reese can’t get information out of him. No one can.”
“Have you had any casualties?”
“Two.” My uncle said with distress.
My brother gave a sigh. “What side of the border are they coming from?”
“Redwood pack.” Jacob replied. “As of right now, neither Blue Moon nor Cypress pack have had any.”
“What is Alpha Zane doing about it?”
“What do you think?” Jacob laughed. “He told me to deal with the rogues how I see fit but to stay off his territory. If they’re on my land, it’s not his problem. You know how it is, us hunters may have a treaty with the werewolves, but that doesn’t mean we necessarily like one another.”
Jacob’s words rang true. A peace treaty has been in place for nearly three centuries. It was drawn by King Silas Koa Juniper Thanos—A Lycan that ruled the werewolves. He came to my great-upon great grandfather William Franklin Alexander with the treaty and it’s been in place ever since. But that didn’t mean we had to like it. We were raised to hate werewolves and vice vera. It’s just that no one was willing to break the agreement in place just yet. Rogues on the other hand were free rein. Which is why some of us hunters were more apt to go out of our way to hunt them down. My father was renowned for it. There was of course the occasional human obsessed with the supernatural world that hunted them down. Those we never engaged with. It was the werewolf’s problem. Not ours.
“What are your thoughts?”
“I’d like you and some of your men to come down and help us track their pack and wipe them out.” Jacob looked at me even though he still addressed my brother. “Paisley is a must. We could use her skills.”
I forced a smile. I hated hunting. Perhaps that was the fault of my father. He’d purposefully capture rogues and allow them to heal in the dungeons. He’d make sure one was always in a cell across from mine when I was being punished and did occupy one. I recall being in utter fear when I was a child. To see their hatred of me. To see them bare their teeth aching to sink them into me. But I quickly learned that the fear I had would turn into terror. Before I could stop it, I was lost in a memory I wish I could forget.
I saw the hatred the wolf had for me. His eyes once hazel had turned pitch black. His canines dripped with saliva and the growl that came deep from his chest sent shivers throughout my entire body. He took a step closer, and I took a step back. I gripped the dagger harder. It was the only comfort I had.
“Disappointing.”
I heard my father grumble from outside the large silver cage I was entrapped in. I didn’t spare a glance at him. I was trained to always keep my eyes on my mark. I knew he wasn’t pleased that I took a step back. In his eyes, it proved his theory of how weak I was.
My ears suddenly filled with the demanding voice of my brother. “What are you doing?” From my peripheral, I watched as Hanzel ran to the cage door and tried to open it. Only to realize it was bolted with a pad lock. Yanking on it with no avail, he screamed, “Get her out of there. Let her out.”
“Contain him.”
Damion was suddenly grabbed by two guards and drug away from the cage. I have always looked up to Damion. Though only two years older than me, he was my place of safety. But, at eleven years old, his fearless strength was no match for two adult men. I couldn’t reply on my brother to save me. I had to defend myself. For the first time, I was alone.
“You can’t do this to her. Let her out.”
I quickly wiped away the tear skimming my cheek as my brother pleaded to take my place. Not that it mattered. My father already saw it.
“Stop hesitating! Show no fear.” My father shouted at me.
“Paisley.” I heard my brother’s voice in the distance. It was no longer shrieking. It was calm and collected. Older with baritone.
“Paisley.”
His raised tone pulled me from my memory. I carefully set my empty cup of hot chocolate on the end table beside me, making it seem like anything other than me being in a trance. The only ones I wouldn’t be able to fool were Damion and Hanzel. I turned my attention to my brother slowly, with a bland expression, I replied, “Yes.” I then turned my attention to my uncle. “Yes, I will join the hunt.”
