The Reluctant Heir and the Blood Hunt
Damien's POV:
Just then, the door creaked open without a knock—of course. Adrian strolled in, already dressed in ceremonial black leather and furs, a predatory grin painted on his face. Klaus followed, lazier in posture but no less sharp.
“Still brooding, older brother?” Adrian smirked. “Or are you composing another tragic poem about your fated ghost?”
“You’d know a thing or two about ghosts,” I said coldly. “Weren’t you still bedding the Duke’s daughter after your mate was crowned?”
He laughed, unabashed. “It’s called keeping options.”
Klaus chuckled darkly, pouring himself wine. “Options you won’t have if you wait much longer. The Ball is a moon away. Tick-tock.”
“Do you want the crown?” Adrian asked, raising an eyebrow. “Or are you just waiting for fate to plop it in your lap like some storybook prince?”
“I’ll claim what’s mine when the time is right.” I said.
Klaus sipped slowly. “Coming to the hunt this year, brother?”
“No.” I said simply. “As always.”
Adrian looked up, licking grease from his fingers. “You never come. What, too pure for a little sport?”
“Slaughtering terrified slaves isn’t ‘sport.’ It’s cruelty masked in tradition.” My voice was calm, but the disgust sipped through.
Klaus scoffed. “Gods, you really were raised in the library. It's not slaughter, it’s cleansing. We give vermin from the rogue clans a chance to run. Sometimes they even make it out.”
“Only to be hunted again next year.” I muttered, standing and moving toward the hearth.
“Why do you think we keep the cages?” Adrian grinned, wicked and bright-eyed.
My jaw tightened. “I want no part in it.”
“You never do.” Klaus’s voice turned colder. “And yet you still claim the right to rule us all. You think when you’re King, you’ll be exempt from tradition? That you can weep over the cruelty of the crown and still wear it?”
“I don’t weep.” I said, turning to face them. “I simply do not enjoy dressing murder in ceremony.”
Adrian laughed. “He’s getting poetic again. Must be close to the full moon.”
Klaus’s gaze narrowed. “The Midnight Ball is a month away. And if you haven't chosen your mate by then, the Elders will call a vote.”
“I know.” I snapped. “I’m reminded hourly.”
“Whatever.” Klaus said and stormed off, while Adrian followed him quietly.
I lingered for a few more minutes until the door suddenly creaked open and my mother, Luna Scarlet stepped inside.
She was dressed in white, her hair bound in silver coils, and adorned with jewelry once worn by queens far more ruthless than her.
“I hear you’re declining the hunt.” She said mildly.
I tilted my head to the side. “I have no stomach for it.”
She walked toward me, brushing invisible dust from my shoulder. “You need not hunt, merely attend. To clear your mind.”
“I don’t want to watch women being hunted like beasts.”
She sighed. “You are too thoughtful for a wolf, Damien.”
“I am what you made me,” I said quietly.
She cupped my cheek. “That may be true. But what I made must endure.”
"How much longer must I bear the pressure from Father and the Elders?" I asked.
“You do not have to listen to them, Damien.” My mother’s voice was gentle, as she took a step back. “The Elders are old and scared. Let me find you a proper Luna—a daughter of noble blood, someone with sense. Someone worthy of your crown.”
I didn’t answer her right away.
I stood by the frost-laced window, one hand clasped behind my back, the other absently trailing along the rim of the glass goblet in front of me.
Below, the courtyards were bustling with preparations—horses being saddled, weapons polished, banners hoisted high to catch the morning sun. All for the gods-damned hunting ceremony.
“Worthy.” I murmured, tracing a small circle against the glass. “Is that what you think I lack, Mother? Worthiness?”
She came to stand beside me. “No, darling. But you lack certainty. Klaus and Adrian found their mates two seasons ago. And now the Elders threaten to strip your title as Alpha heir unless you do the same.”
“They threaten.” I said softly. “Because they fear an Alpha King with no Queen.”
“They fear your... indecision.” Her tone sharpened. “You cannot rule alone, Damien. The Midnight Ball draws near. If your Mate does not reveal herself by then, you must choose.”
“Choose.” The word turned bitter in my mouth. “As though a soul can be plucked like fruit from a tree.”
"Damien!" She called out.
Sighing, loudly I said. “I will find her.”
“When?” She demanded. “Before the Ball?”
I looked away.
I looked toward the arched windows, out to the frost-covered hills and black pines beyond.
My mother leaned in and whispered, “You don’t have to join the hunt, Damien—just show up and remind them you’re still the crowned prince.”
I said nothing.
But I didn’t say no.
Eventually, I joined the hunt out of nothing more than boredom, or perhaps resentment.
I haven't been on a blood run with them in years. Not since the last “game,” as Klaus liked to call it. Because one day, they stopped hunting prey and began hunting people.
When we arrived at the hunting grounds, I overheard a rogue announce that they’d brought in fresh stock from the borders—slaves and outcasts, most of which were already branded.
I stayed near the back as we rode out toward the forest clearing on our horses, keeping my distance.
From where I sat, I watched the guards laugh cruelly, prowling around the cages like predators selecting their next meal.
“There she is.” Klaus said, pointing at an average girl, with blonde hair. “The one I want.”
A guard yanked her out of the cage, and she collapsed to her knees. Her hair was tangled and matted, the hem of her dress was torn, and stained with dirt. Mud streaked her face, and there was blood all over her shoulder.
But her eyes, when they met mine, held none of the hopelessness her appearance had.
Suddenly, my heart began to race.
“Lovely little thing.” Adrian drawled. “Too pretty to be wild. Maybe I’ll make her scream first.”
“You’ll have to catch her first.” Klaus laughed. “Let’s give them a head start, shall we?”
The cages were opened, and the other girls staggered out, blinking like rabbits in daylight.
As the guards howled instructions. “Run! Run to the woods if you value your life! You have five minutes!”
The girls didn’t move at first, then Klaus raised his bow.
The arrow flew true and struck the leg of a girl trying to flee who crumpled with a scream.
Screams rang out from different sides, as they ran to seek cover.
Klaus's prey—no, my girl—ran faster than the rest, her bare feet barely touching the frostbitten earth.
She was already far away, but I could still feel her presence.
“She’s quick.” Adrian said, annoyed. “Too quick.”
Klaus growled. “I’m putting a bounty on the blonde—one hundred and fifty gold coins for anyone who delivers her to me alive.”
As he spoke, she darted through the trees, then I turned from my brothers and signaled to my tracker. “Bring me her scent trail. I want to know where she stops or hides.”
“Prince Damien?” He asked, confused.
Hissing loudly, I replied. “I want her.”
“Why?”
Why?
Because if what I feel is true, then the girl they intend to kill… Is mine.