by Woods, Erica
Grotesque.
Again, that word. Again, a bite of black memories, the cut of a childhood I’d thought no longer had the power to wound.
“A favor?” Bennett spat.
I inclined my head, not trusting myself to speak.
“I have a better idea, Lucien. I want your vow, on your honor, that you will leave me be and never attempt to harm me in any way.” His eyes flashed. “And then I will take that favor.”
A terrible heat exploded in my abdomen, my jaw so stiff my voice was barely human. “Never. You may have”—for five full seconds I chewed on my next words, trying not to choke on their cruel, bitter flavor—“one year of freedom.”
“Before you attacked me, I might have been convinced to take a favor and a year,” Bennett snapped. “But now, I will have it all, or you can go straight to hell.”
A peculiar darkness spread through me. Enticing and beckoning, carrying lethal spears of shadowed vengeance and broadswords of blackened rage. Had I held on to my temper, had I not allowed flames to devour me and melt what remained of the armor I’d relied on my whole life, the sacrifice he demanded would not have been necessary.
Weakness always carried consequences. “If I agree to those terms, they will come with conditions.”
“Name them.”
“My vow will stand, but only as long as you do not pose a threat to my pack or to my female. Or to me,” I added as an afterthought. “The same conditions apply to your favor.”
A victorious smile curved Bennett’s lips. “I see no problem with that, but you can’t ask or demand that anyone else comes after me. If you already have, you have to convince them otherwise, and if your pack hears this story and decides to kill me themselves, you have to do your best to stop them.”
Too incensed to speak, I inclined my head and braced for a reality in which this despicable male could prance around without fear of consequences, without fear of me. For two centuries I’d anticipated my vengeance. Now, Bennett had won.
“Shake on it?” he asked, with an insolent arch of a brow.
I swallowed back pieces of black rage, forced the fire raging in my chest to perish, and felt nothing but cool, cutting frost. “My word is my bond.”
“Very well.” He left the room and returned minutes later with a black box housing a golden amulet. “It activates with a prick of blood. Picture the person you wish to find, and follow the golden thread. It’ll erase your scent without the pesky side effects of faebane so whoever you’re hunting won’t know you’re coming.” He closed the lid and handed over the box.
A burst of heat struck me in the chest.
Devil take all witches!
The foul magic whirled around us, poking and prodding, subsiding only once it had determined the amulet had been willingly given; its new owner spared its wrath.
Once no traces of the protective spell lingered, I spun on my heel and stalked outside.
“Pleasure doing business with you, Your Grace.” Bennett’s mocking words followed me into the night, and I briefly considered breaking my vow and staining my honor beyond repair. Perhaps I would have given in if not for the consequences of breaking Assembly law. And the pesky fact that it would leave me useless to my pack. No spymaster could be known to violate an agreement, and once the Assembly was behind us, Bennett would spread the word far and wide to ensure my cooperation.
A cold fist scooped up my stomach and clenched it between skeleton fingers.
I could not forsake my honor nor the protection I brought my pack. My vengeance was forfeit.
While thick, black rage bubbled through my veins like boiling tar, I rubbed the witch-tracker over one of the rapidly healing wounds in my side, activating the amulet. A second passed. Two. Ten. Twenty-five. Then a bright, golden line stretched before me, lighting a path straight to my prey.
I ran.
The trail led me through the forest where Matthew had last been spotted, my wolf sneezing at the remains of the faebane, and all the way to the border of Assembly territory.
The coward had fled in truth.
I emerged between two shaggy pines, jogged down a gentle slope, and crossed the narrow dirt road separating one forest from its sister on the other side. The golden line cut through trees ahead, but before I could follow, I caught a scent that made me pause.
Smoke. Blood. Predator.
My wolf bared its teeth, and we stilled. Crouched. Listened. The scent grew more pronounced, and soon, low voices drifted on the wind, nearing from the east.
I remained in a crouch, half hidden behind a towering oak while silently cursing the invaders who stood in my way.
Until I knew if they’d crossed paths with my prey, I could not kill them, and subduing an unknown number of ruthless predators required a certain level of planning. Of patience.
So I waited.
Closer. Closer.
Ice flowed in my veins.
Closer still.
A lethal, yet quiet voice, a spark of recognition.
Then, just as my muscles tightened and my mind mapped out my first ten steps, the first slash of claws, the first dodge and weave, three shapes emerged from the shadowed forest and stepped onto the road illuminated by the moon.
Not strangers after all . . .
A cold, brutal smile pulled on my lips and left my teeth—and fangs—bared. “Gavril,” I said silkily, casually moving away from my tree; savoring the way all three males stiffened. “What could you possibly be doing lurking about on the edge of Assembly territory?”
The bigger of the three males lifted his chin, cold fury crackling behind that dark, dark gaze. “What I’m always doing, Lucien.” He stalked forward. “I’m hunting.”
To be continued.
* * *
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You!
A reader who not only made it to the end of Hunted, but who decided to hang in there for the other 200 000 words that make up Assembly, committing time and energy to live, for a moment, in Hope’s world—even though there are so many other amazing books out there, so many other worlds to explore.
It would mean the world to me if you could spend just a few minutes leaving a review on this book’s Amazon page. It can be as short as you want, even one sentence makes a big difference.
See you again soon, and thank you very much!
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, to my readers. This is only my second book, but wow, the journey has been wild and I’d be nowhere without all of you. I never dreamed I’d be lucky enough to have readers who’re not only happy to spend 700 pages immersed in Hope and the guys’ world, but who’re also so freakin supportive, amazing, kind, and voracious in their want of more!
A huge, huge, HUGE thank you to all the readers who’ve left a review, and to all those who recommended my books to a friend, on social media, or anywhere else—you’re making the biggest difference in my life and I can’t thank you enough!
And to the readers who’ve signed up to my newsletters and listen to me ramble, take my crazy polls, and even write me back—you’re awesome!
And to all the crazy members of my Facebook reader group—you guys carried me through 2020 and kept my head from exploding (I mean, it did explode a little, but not nearly as much as it would have without you all). Seriously, you make my world a place filled with light. I love you guys!
And now that I’ve gotten my mushiness out on all my readers…
It’s your turn Charlotte! You’re p
robably squirming right now, dreading all the emotions about to come your way, but you’re just gonna have to sit there and take it while I tell you that I love the hell out of you! You’re the kind of friend to be jealously guarded and straight up hogged because having you in your corner means you win. It doesn’t matter what’s at stake, you just win. And not only are you amazing and supportive and loyal, you also see words in the same way I do, and I LOVE talking craft with you. You help me be a better writer and (this is the part I’m meant to say “better person” but since you’re slightly evil I’m gonna skip straight past that and instead say) if you ever try to leave me, I’ll hobble you and tie you up in my (so far non-existent) basement. So there.
MAYA! You have the best name to shout, but that’s not why I love you. I love you cause you’re awesome, humble (the humblest, most awesomest, most kickassest—yes this is a word now, I’ve claimed it—humbler in the whole world) and hilarious with an unquenchable need to learn and improve. I LOVE learning with you, and I’m so grateful you’re in my life to push me and lift me up and just give all the positive, salt-tinged energy that tastes so yummy and sustains my soul! You’re stuck with me. In case you didn’t know.
And Leanne… I love you! You’re amazing and sweet and I love how much we talk, how you’re always in my corner, how you always offer to help as much as you can, no matter what’s going on. Keep being you and keep following your dreams—most of them has already come true, and the ones that haven’t… well, you’re definitely stubborn enough to make them happen!
Penny, you have the snark of a teenager, the skin of a twenty-year-old, the soul of an ancient, and the grump of a sixty-year-old man. I may never puzzle out your age, but you’re mine now and you’re not going anywhere.
Ashley… I’m so happy you slid into my DMs and convinced me to let you help! I’d have drowned without you. You’re so freakin capable, and you always get everything done. You’re amazing!
Destiny, for how much you loved my book and how far and wide you spread that love. For your friendship, help, and support. Thank you. Your face is loved (insert appropriate emoji here).
Melissa, for believing in me, my book, and for being so protective of us both!
Stephanie, for making the most awesome fan video ever, for being a truly, genuinely kind person, for your strength, resilience, and kick-assedness. You’re amazing!
To my tiny street team of 2020… For your heartfelt, honest recs; for loving my book and wanting to share that love. For being awesome!
And finally, to Mr. Erica (someone said that once and I thought it was the most hilarious thing ever, so now that’s your name), I love you so much my heart hurts! Not just because you fly into a rage at the thought of anyone hurting me (I may be weird, but I find that drool-worthy), but because you make me breakfast every day and never push me to stop writing when I’m locked inside a character’s head and need just “fifteen more minutes” – even when those 15 minutes turns into 6 hours. I love you.
Oh, and my mom… Listen, this book is already dedicated to you, raving about you here would be overkill, don’t you think? No? Rave away? Tell you how amazing you are? Fine, fine. I guess… Thank you for only reading the dedication and acknowledgements in my book and skipping all the content in between. I REALLY appreciate it. You are definitely the world’s best mom (not just because you’ve solemnly promised to not read my RH books, though that definitely helps), and I love you.
About the Author
Erica Woods is an animal loving, coffee-addicted, chocoholic who lives in Norway with two fur babies of the purring variety and a hubs of the supporting, slightly growly variety.
When she’s not writing (which is seldom) she can be found clinging to her hubby like a koala bear (yes, she’s needy) with a book in one hand and some kind of snack (most likely chocolate) in the other.
Besides being crazy about animals and obsessed with all things romance, Erica likes to be near the ocean, draw, fantasize about life on foreign planets, and tease her hubby until he chases her around the house while she squeals.
Fun times.
Want to know more about Erica? Visit her website: Ericawoods.net or join her reader group: Into the Woods - An Erica Woods Reader Group.
Glossary
Scottish Gaelic
A chuisle - The endearment has grown to mean my dear/my love. But it comes from mo chuisle which directly translated means “my pulse.” The thing that keeps my blood flowing through my veins, keeps me alive.
mo chridhe - my heart
Ojibwe/Ojibwa
Niijikiwenh - brother
Banajaanh - little bird/baby bird/fledgling
Fae
Lithbhár - directly translated it means ‘blodless’ - It’s a harsh insult among lycans and has evolved to mean someone who is the worst sort of coward.
Dè cháiní Bháan Mahír - Children of the White Wolf
Mahír fáinn - Feral wolf
Céalen an Amdúir - Consort of Nature
Bháan Mahír - White Wolf