Chapter 3 The Hunt of Humiliation

The morning after the Crimson Moon burned away, the valley held its breath. The air was damp and heavy with the scent of pine and tension. Every pack member felt it—the unease of something ancient shifting under the skin of their world.

Aiden stood at the edge of the training grounds once more, surrounded by wolves who refused to meet his eyes. The bruise along his neck, courtesy of Damian’s chokehold, had barely faded. He had spent the night sleepless, haunted by whispers of silver and the faint echo of a woman’s voice calling his name.

Now, none of that mattered. Today was the Pack Hunt—an ancient trial that decided status, respect, and, for Omegas like Aiden, the right to keep their place in the pack.

“Try not to embarrass us this time,” Gregor sneered, tightening the straps on his hunting gear. His teeth flashed white in the morning sun. “We can’t afford your… charity runs after imaginary mates.”

Aiden ignored him. He couldn’t afford to fight back. Not today.

Damian stood at the head of the clearing, radiating command. His crimson eyes scanned the assembled wolves with cold authority. “The rules are simple,” he said. “The team that brings down the alpha stag wins. The rest will feed on scraps. And anyone who gets in the way—”

His gaze flicked to Aiden. “—will be reminded of their place.”

A ripple of laughter spread through the group.

Aiden lowered his eyes, clenching his fists. The crescent mark on his wrist pulsed faintly under his sleeve, a reminder of the dream, of her.

I can’t fail again, he told himself. Not today.

They ran as one into the forest when Damian’s howl split the air. The hunt had begun.

The pack moved like shadows through the trees—powerful, fluid, graceful. Aiden followed, his smaller frame weaving between roots and branches. The scent of prey was thick: musk, sweat, wild heartbeats pounding somewhere ahead.

Gregor’s team—his team—had spread out in formation. Two wolves flanked right, one took left, and Aiden was placed at the rear. Always at the rear.

The first herd of stags burst into view, their antlers glinting like polished bone. The wolves lunged. Aiden darted forward, instincts burning. He leapt at a smaller deer, aiming for its throat.

But his foot caught on a root. He stumbled—hard—and hit the ground with a thud. The deer bolted, the opportunity lost.

“Pathetic!” Gregor snarled. “You couldn’t even catch a rabbit!”

Aiden scrambled to his feet, shame searing through him. “I—I can still track them—”

“No,” Gregor snapped. “You’ll just slow us down. Stay out of the way!”

He shifted mid-sentence, his wolf form bursting forth—dark fur, massive frame—and vanished into the forest with the others.

Aiden stood alone, chest heaving. The distant howls of success echoed through the trees.

For a moment, he wanted to give up. To let the humiliation crush him. But then he heard it—a faint whisper. Not with his ears, but in his blood.

“Don’t bow to their laughter, Aiden. The moon sees your heart.”

His pulse quickened. The voice—the same one from his dream.

He turned toward the deeper woods, where the silver light filtered through thick mist. Something called to him there.

Ignoring the sting of his pride, Aiden followed.

The forest grew darker, quieter. The air shimmered faintly with energy, like the echo of old magic. Aiden’s breath came out in white mist as he stepped into a hollow surrounded by stone pillars—ancient, carved with runes worn by time.

In the center lay a clearing of wildflowers glowing faintly silver beneath the filtered light.

Aiden’s heart pounded. He could feel her again—her scent, her warmth, her sadness.

He knelt, touching one of the stones. “Are you here?” he whispered.

A soft breeze stirred the flowers, and for an instant, he saw her—her outline forming in the mist, her eyes glowing with the same lunar light as before.

But the vision flickered. She looked weak, her form trembling.

“He hunts me,” her voice trembled through his mind. “The Crimson Alpha seeks what should never be his. The moon’s blood in you will awaken soon… but not yet.”

Aiden reached toward her. “Tell me how to find you—please!”

Her fingers almost brushed his when the sound of crashing branches shattered the moment.

The vision vanished.

Aiden turned—and found Gregor’s team bursting into the clearing. Their eyes gleamed with fury.

“There you are,” Gregor snarled, his wolf form towering over Aiden. “Wandering off again, while we fight your battles?”

“I—”

Before Aiden could finish, Gregor struck. The blow sent him sprawling into the dirt. Laughter erupted around him.

“You cost us the hunt!” another wolf spat. “Because of you, the Alpha team took the kill!”

Aiden’s ribs burned, his vision swimming. “I didn’t mean—”

“No one cares what you mean, Omega,” Gregor hissed, shifting back to human form. His eyes blazed with triumph. “The only thing you’re good for is being a reminder that weakness breeds failure.”

He grabbed Aiden by the collar, yanking him upright. “Maybe we should teach you what happens to dreamers.”

The others cheered him on, circling like vultures.

But before Gregor could strike again, a deep growl rolled through the trees.

The laughter died instantly.

Aiden froze. That sound—low, resonant, commanding—wasn’t Gregor’s.

Damian stepped out from the shadows, his crimson eyes glowing with cold fury.

“Enough,” the Alpha heir said quietly, but the power in his voice made the others flinch back.

Gregor swallowed hard. “We were just—”

“I saw the hunt,” Damian interrupted. His gaze landed on Aiden, sharp as a blade. “He failed. Again.”

Aiden forced himself to stand, his body trembling. “I tried—”

“You always try,” Damian said, his tone dripping disdain. “But trying doesn’t make you strong. It just makes your weakness louder.”

He turned to the others. “Strip him of his rank.”

The words hit harder than any blow.

Gregor grinned. “Gladly.”

The pack’s laughter rose again, cruel and triumphant, as they tore the small Omega insignia from Aiden’s shirt and threw it into the mud.

Damian watched silently, unreadable.

Aiden’s throat burned, but he refused to bow. He met Damian’s gaze head-on, even as his body shook. “You can take everything from me,” he said, voice rough but steady, “but not what’s inside me.”

A muscle twitched in Damian’s jaw. For a second, something like respect—or anger—flickered in his eyes. Then it was gone.

“Inside you?” Damian murmured. “We’ll see how long that survives.”

He turned to leave, the others following, their laughter fading into the trees.

Aiden stood alone again in the clearing, mud on his hands, pain burning through his ribs.

He sank to his knees, staring at the torn insignia. The forest around him seemed to close in—dark, silent, heavy.

And then—soft light.

The pendant he’d found the night before shimmered where it hung against his chest. The faint hum returned, low and melodic.

“Rise, Aiden Vale. The hunt was never yours to win. But another has begun—one written under the Silver Moon.”

The voice filled his head, stronger now, clearer.

Aiden’s breath hitched. He looked up at the sky through the canopy. The moon was faint in daylight, but it shimmered—silver as a promise.

He clutched the pendant in his fist. If I can’t prove my worth to them… I’ll prove it to her.

The wind stirred, whispering through the leaves. Far in the distance, a howl echoed—not from the pack, but something older, wilder, calling him toward destiny.

And somewhere deep in the forest, crimson eyes blinked open.

Damian smiled in the shadows, watching.

“Run, little Omega,” he whispered. “Let’s see how far your loyalty takes you.”