Page 152 of Hunt Me

“Oh, Matilda,” Ezra whispered when he caught up to her and found her breathing heavily above the deceased predator. “It’s not safe. We need to return to the castle immediately.”

A soft, disbelieving laugh cut through the pained cries.

“Do you expect me to hide behind a fortress guarded by an army while they die by the hands of our enemies?”

“I expect you to think about the consequences of a dead queen!” he bit out.

She smirked, patted his face, and stepped over debris. “Oh, ye of little faith,” she mocked.

She entered what now looked like a battlefield that was soaked with blood and strewn with body parts. A human guard was dragged screaming beneath a wolf. Matilda sprinted after it and leapt onto its back. Her claws sank into its fur. The wolf roared and twisted violently, trying to throw her free.

“MATILDA!”

Luka’s voice thundered across the square. Black wings exploded outward behind him as he collided with the attacking wolf. They rolled to the ground. The wolf beneath him tried to rise, but his plans were thwarted when Luka ripped its head clean from its body. Blood sprayed across the mud.

Silence followed for a heartbeat until a horn sounded from beyond the forest.

Everyone froze except the beta, who began retreating toward the tree line, backing away with a low growl rumbling in its throat.

The settlement had gone deathly silent except for the cries of the wounded and grieved.

Matilda stood in the center of the destruction, breathing hard, blood dripping steadily down her torn arm, while bodies littered the muddy pathways around her.

Ezra approached slowly with Denalia beneath his cloak.

“Prince Lykaon won’t take losing his men kindly,” Ezra commented.

Luka huffed. “Then he sorely miscalculated their abilities.”

Matilda narrowed her eyes when a lone figure emerged from the trees. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and most of all… familiar.

Prince Lykaon wore black leather armor marked with deep claw symbols across the chest. He stopped just beyond the broken settlement gates. The rain returned, rolling down his face as golden eyes settled directly on Luka. His gaze shifted to Matilda before finally landing on Denalia.

A slow smile spread across his mouth.

“Well,” he said calmly, “there she is. The last of the Alesi bloodline.”

Luka tightened his hold on Denalia until the infant was pressed securely against his chest. Every muscle in his body remained coiled, and his black wings threatened to unfurl at the slightest provocation.

Prince Lykaon noticed.

A rough laugh escaped him, low and taunting, as though Luka’s caution amused him more than it offended him.

“Put yourself at ease, Luka. Do you expect me to snatch the babe from your arms and devour her?”

“The thought has crossed my mind,” Luka replied without hesitation.

Ezra silently stepped between them, placing himself as another barrier between the prince and the child.

Lykaon spread his hands with exaggerated innocence. “I’m no monster.”

A bitter laugh escaped Matilda before she could stop it. Her gaze drifted across the ruined settlement, over homes destroyed by fire, and bodies scattered through the mud. An elderly man lay crumpled beside a shattered cart, while only a few paces away the body of a toddler lay slashed into ribbons.

Her eyes settled on the headless corpse of a young woman lying near the well.

“This,” she said quietly, gesturing toward the deceased woman, “suggests otherwise.”

Lykaon regarded her, nodding politely as if they were old friends instead of enemies. His eyes traveled over her, lingering on her dark clothing clinging to her rain-soaked body, and the fangs she couldn’t conceal. The unmistakable look of death in her eyes amused him. A smile curled at the corner of his mouth.