Chapter 148

Kayla

I stepped up to the registration table. “Kayla Reynolds,” I said, not that I needed to tell him who I was. And I hated the sound of Nicholas’s name attached to mine.

The clerk, a young man with a clipboard and a faint scar across his brow, blinked at me. He hesitated, his pen hovering over the paper, as if unsure whether to write my name down.

“Is there a problem?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest.

He shook his head quickly, scribbling my name onto the list. “No, Luna. I’m just… surprised to see you entering, that’s all.”

I didn’t need him to elaborate. I knew what he was thinking. A wolfless woman, their Luna no less, signing up for the Darkmoon hunt? It was unheard of. Insane, even. And I couldn’t help but agree, but I had spent far too long training my ass off for this.

And quite frankly, I needed this. Even if I didn’t catch the white stag, I needed something—anything—to get my mind off of… well, everything.

As I stepped away from the table, I turned to face the other warriors. Nora was standing nearby, leaning against a tree with her arms crossed. Her smirk was as sharp as ever, her eyes glinting with amusement as I passed. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. That smirk said it all.

I ignored her, focusing instead on the crowd gathering near the edge of the forest. Nicholas was there, standing on a makeshift podium. He looked every bit the Alpha—tall, broad-shouldered, his wool jacket clinging to his frame. His amber eyes scanned the crowd, and for a brief moment, they landed on me.

Our eyes met, and I felt that familiar pull, that ache in my chest that I couldn’t help but feel every time we looked at each other. But then he looked away, his gaze moving on as if I were just another face in the crowd.

“Warriors of Nightshade,” he began, his voice ringing out across the crowd. “Today, we honor the tradition of the Darkmoon Hunt. This is not just a test of strength and skill, but a test of spirit. The white stag you seek is no ordinary prey. It is a symbol of the Moon Goddess’s favor, a blessing to those who prove themselves worthy.”

His words were met with cheers and howls, the pack’s excitement palpable in the cold winter air. I stood at the edge of the crowd with my arms crossed, honestly just waiting for the fanfare to be over and the hunt to begin already.

Nicholas’s eyes flicked to me again, just for a second, before he continued. “May the Moon Goddess guide your steps and grant you her favor. Go forth, and may the best warrior prevail.”

The pack erupted into applause, and I felt a pang of something that felt like resentment. His Luna was entering in the hunt, a wolfless Luna no less, and he hadn’t said a word about it. He hadn’t even wished me good luck in the days leading up to this.

Not that I expected him to, of course. Why would he? I was just the woman he’d fucked and married for political gain. Nothing more.

The hunt began with a howl, a signal for the warriors to shift and run into the woods. I watched as they shifted with ease, and within moments, the clearing was filled with wolves of all sizes and colors, their eyes glowing.

They took off into the woods at a nod from Nicholas, their footsteps and yips of excitement fading into the distance. Nora shot me one last glance before she bounded off after them, her wolf form lithe and petite.

And then there was just me left.

I stood there on two feet instead of four, the only participant left in the clearing, shivering slightly against the cold air. I didn’t shift. I couldn’t. Instead, I took a deep breath and started walking, my boots crunching against the frost-covered grass.

The chuckles started almost immediately.

“Look at her,” a girl who I recognized as one of Nora’s friends whispered to another. “What’s she going to do? Walk the stag to death?”

“Maybe she’s just here to pick flowers,” the other girl giggled.

I kept walking, my jaw clenched, my eyes fixed on the tree line ahead. I could feel their stares, their judgment, their disbelief. But I didn’t care. Let them laugh. Let them doubt. I didn’t need their approval. I had decided to do this hunt for myself, not for anyone else.

What I did feel, though, was Nicholas’s eyes on my back. I didn’t turn around to look, but I knew he was watching me. I could feel his gaze boring two holes straight through my skull, those honey-colored eyes following me as I disappeared into the woods.

The forest was blissfully quiet, the only sounds the crunch of my boots and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. As soon as I was out of sight, I felt my tension fade away. Soon it was just me, the trees, and the wind.

The very first thing I did was fashion a basic spear, a bow, and some arrows, which took way longer than I would have liked. But since I had no wolf form, I knew I would need tools to help me hunt—not just for the stag, but for food.

By the time I was finished with that, grateful for all the time I’d spent practicing making these things, the sun was high in the sky. I moved on to tracking the stag, occasionally shooting a squirrel and adding it to my belt so I could have dinner for later.

I moved slowly through the forest for hours, my eyes scanning the frosty, snow-dusted ground for any sign of the stag. Hoofprints, broken branches, anything that could lead me in the right direction.

But the forest was vast, and the stag was elusive. The day passed far too quickly for my liking, and I found nothing. No tracks, no signs, no hints. Just endless trees and the occasional bird flitting overhead. Eventually, it began to grow dark, even though it was probably only around four o’clock. But since it was January, I knew it would only get darker from here.

By then, I was exhausted and freezing anyway. My legs ached, my feet were sore, my fingers were numb, and my stomach growled with hunger. I knew I needed to rest, to regroup and prepare for the next day.

I found a small clearing, surrounded by tall trees and thick underbrush. It was as good a spot as any to set up camp, so I gathered some fallen branches and dry kindling, stacking them carefully to build a fire with the one thing I’d been allowed to bring with me—a small flint and steel kit.

It took a few tries, but eventually, I got the fire going, the flames crackling and casting a warm glow over the clearing.

I rubbed my cold fingers together and held them in front of the fire before I got to work on my next task, which was cleaning the two squirrels I’d caught earlier and roasting them over the fire, as well as gathering some berries from a nearby bush.

While I waited for my food to cook, I gathered more branches and pine shoots, using them to construct a makeshift shelter. It wasn’t much—just a lean-to propped against a tree—but it would keep me dry if it snowed again.

As I sat by the fire, the warmth seeping into my bones, I allowed myself a moment of quiet reflection. The day had been long and frustrating, but for the first time in ages, I felt a bit more at peace.

I was just starting to relax when I heard it—the sound of footsteps crunching against the forest floor.

I jumped to my feet, my heart pounding, and grabbed my spear. I held it out in front of me, my eyes scanning the darkness beyond the firelight.

“Who’s there?” I called out.

The footsteps stopped, and for a moment, there was silence. Then, a figure stepped into the light.

Nora.

Her eyes flicked to the fire, then to me, and she nodded toward the flames.

“Looking for some company?”