The Hunter in the Dark
Book 3
A Choice Bound by Blood
Chapter One- The Hunter in the Dark
The forest was endless.
Moonlight filtered in sharp silver beams through clawed branches, painting streaks of light across the loam. Evandra’s lungs burned as she sprinted barefoot, gown tangling around her legs. Something was behind her. She couldn’t see it, couldn’t hear more than the crack of branches in pursuit, but she knew the truth in her marrow: she was prey, and the hunter was gaining.
She tried to shift, called for Sage, but her wolf was sluggish—caught in a mire of dread. The air itself felt weighted with magic, thick enough to choke on.
Branches tore her skin. Roots clawed her ankles. Each breath grew shallower until she heard it: a growl, low and guttural, vibrating the earth.
She spun just in time to see eyes glowing in the dark—amber, not rogue red, but burning with intent. A wolf. Enormous. Not one she knew.
Not a stranger, either.
The scent was maddeningly familiar, but her terror wouldn’t allow her to place it. The wolf lunged, and just as teeth closed over her throat—
Evandra jolted awake, heart hammering.
Her nightdress clung to her body, damp with sweat. She sat upright, clutching her sheets, eyes darting about the darkened bedroom. The familiar outlines of Melting Moon’s Alpha chambers grounded her, but her body refused to believe she was safe. She was shaking, panting, her ribs aching as if she had truly been running.
On the other side of the bed, Tristan stirred. His broad shoulders shifted beneath the sheets, his hand dragging across the mattress toward her. His breathing was ragged, caught in dreams of his own.
For one dizzy second, she wondered if he was dreaming the same thing.
“Gods,” she whispered, dragging her palms over her face. Her eyes darted to the nightstand. Almost dawn. Another night stolen from her by nightmares that felt too real to be dismissed.
Evandra rose, padding barefoot across the chamber. Her hair stuck to the sweat on her neck, and she tugged a shawl over her shoulders before slipping onto the balcony. Cool night air kissed her skin, grounding her.
But then she noticed it again.
The missing time.
She leaned heavily against the railing, staring at the dark treetops of Melting Moon territory. The clock had said nearly dawn. Yet she swore she’d closed her eyes only an hour earlier. Had she been dreaming that long? Or had she lost time again—slipping into something beyond dreams?
Her stomach turned. This wasn’t like the restless visions Rowan once described when Chelsea’s mirror magic gripped him. This was deeper. More invasive.
By the time Tristan woke fully, the sun was spilling gold across the balcony. Evandra hadn’t moved.
He rubbed his face, hair falling into his eyes, and started toward her. Tattoos shifted across his skin as he stretched. “Evie,” he rasped, voice low and heavy with sleep. “What are you doing out here? You’re freezing.”
She didn’t answer right away. He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, burying his face against her neck. His warmth steadied her trembling.
“Another dream?” he asked softly.
She nodded. “The same wolf. Always chasing. Always hunting me. I don’t… I don’t think it’s just a dream, Tristan. It feels too real.”
His jaw clenched against her skin. “You think it’s connected to that night. The scent.”
“The cameras caught nothing,” she reminded him. “Every angle, every corridor—he avoided them all. He knew the territory too well. He wanted us to know he was there without letting us see who he was.”
Tristan’s hands tightened on her waist. “Which means he’s trained. He’s no rogue. And he’s not one of ours, or Kohl and Liora would have known the second he stepped foot in Melting Moon territory.”
Evandra turned in his arms, staring up into those piercing green eyes that had always been her anchor. “Then who, Tristan? Who hunts me in dreams and dares stalk me in your halls?”
His throat bobbed, words caught there. Finally he murmured, “Whoever it is… they’ve crossed a line. And I swear to you, we will find him before you set foot in Crescent.”
Her stomach twisted at the mention. Crescent Pack.
Balor’s lands awaited her, their wedding preparations set to begin within days. The final ceremony. The last bond to seal before all four were complete.
She rested her forehead against Tristan’s chest. “I don’t want to leave. Not yet. Not when we don’t know who’s out there.”
He stroked her hair, fingers gentle despite the tension radiating through his muscles. “Neither do I. Gods, Evie, I hate this rotation. I hate sending you away. Every time you leave, it feels like I’m being cut in half.”
She closed her eyes, savoring the weight of his words. “You know I’ll come back.”
“Do I?” His voice cracked on the question, rawer than she’d ever heard it. “First Green Briar, now this. Every time I blink, fate finds a way to put you in someone else’s claws. And what if next time I’m not fast enough? What if…”
“Stop.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t. You’ve always been fast enough. You’ve always been strong enough.”
His hands cupped her face, eyes searching hers with the desperation of a man who carried too much on his shoulders. “And what about the Mirror, Evie? We still don’t know who wields it. We don’t know what it wants. What if it’s already inside your head?”
Her lips trembled, but she forced a small smile. “Then you and the others will pull me back. You always do.”
He kissed her then, hard, as if the force of it could anchor her to him forever.
Later that morning, as omegas moved through the halls preparing breakfast, Tristan and Evandra sat in his study, documents sprawled across the table. Patrol routes. Security logs. Camera feeds.
“This is how it feels, doesn’t it?” she murmured, tracing her finger across a map.
He looked up. “How what feels?”
“Being Alpha. Carrying a pack, knowing one slip, one blind spot, could bring it all crashing down.”
He didn’t answer right away. His green eyes softened, though, studying her as if she were the only thing worth guarding. “I’d carry a hundred packs if it meant keeping you safe.”
Her heart ached with love and dread in equal measure.
Because in just a few days, she would be gone from Melting Moon, swept into Crescent’s halls, surrounded by wolves who were not hers yet. And Tristan would stay behind, bound by duty, haunted by a scent neither of them could forget.
And somewhere, beyond their reach, the Mirror was waiting.
