Hunting Midnight

Chapter One: Battle Of The Packs

I dive behind a tree as an arrow whizzes past my head, the feathered tip just barely brushing my cheek. Behind me, four members from the Faoladh Pack– my most hated enemy– rush toward me.

Currently, I'm competing against five other wolf packs in my territory in the first-ever 'Battle of the Packs' tournament. The pack that finds the antique compass and gets it across the finish line wins the points for that game.

Grasping the prized compass in my hand, I turn to see the finish line is only twenty yards away.

The Chief Alpha– who rules over the five packs– created the tournament because of the looming war with the wolf hunters. Whichever pack wins the deadly tournament will have the honor of leading the other packs into the war.

And whoever dies in the tournament wasn't strong enough to go to war anyway.

A branch snaps behind me, and I turn to see a brute from the Faoladh Pack lifting a knife to throw at me. I quickly duck and drop to the ground as the knife flies past me and lands with a 'thud' in the tree. Then I pop up and look at the brute with a smirk.
"I'm going to wipe that smile off your face," the man growls, his eyes flashing a bright pale blue. His shirt– decorated with a blood-red wolf face– is torn on the sleeve, and I can only guess that the knife he threw was his only weapon.
"You can't even throw a knife," I point out. With a snarl, the brute leaps toward me, but I pull back and use his momentum to grab his forearm and slam him to the ground. My boot found its place against his throat in an unspoken demand to stay down before I took off, weaving through the trees. Leaving the man behind, I race toward the finish line, the win only a few yards away.

Just as I near it, a pair of arms grabs me from the side. I cry out as steel-like arms come around my waist and slam me to the ground, sending shockwaves through my entire body– my eyes catch the glimpse of tattoos– something only one pack has– and my blood begins to boil. I brace for the impact, but the rival wolf rolls as we land, softening the blow.
"Get off!" I roar.
With a twist, the rival wolf rolls on top of me and pins my arms next to my head. My breath catches as I look up at piercing ice-blue eyes, defined cheekbones, and a strong, stubbled jaw that's dropped in shock. He stills as chaos moves on around us, eyes widening with intrigue as he searches my face. I quickly come to my senses and realize that I'm looking up at Ruhn, the Alpha of the Faoladh Pack.

His features are rugged and angular, every line etched with determination and resolve, and his hair is dark brown– so dark it appears almost black except under the direct sunlight. Despite his ruthless reputation as a leader, there is an undeniable magnetism to him. The entirety of his right arm and neck is covered in tattoos, and as my eyes trail the intricate patterns from his fingertips to the edge of his shirt sleeve, I can't help but wonder how far they go.

The hatred between our packs runs deep. For centuries we've fought over territory, and just last month, my pack's Alpha was murdered on a hunt. I know the Faoladh Pack is responsible.

I try to catch my bearings, but Ruhn holds me down tightly, not bothering to look for the compass... yet.
"Tell me your name," he demands, voice deep and compelling.
"Get the hell off of me," I shoot back, pushing against his grip on my wrists, but he doesn't budge an inch.
"I'm not letting you go until you tell me your name," Ruhn says, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
"It's what I expect from a murderer." My response snaps him out of his stunned state. His eyes narrow, and his jaw clenches with tension.
"Give me the compass," he ignores my obvious jab.
"I don't take orders from you," I growl.
His hands clench on my wrists as his knees tighten on my hips. Then, he gives me an arrogant smirk. "Right now, it looks like you do."

The audacity of this man.

" The only person I take orders from is my Alpha, who you killed," I shoot back, meeting his deadly gaze head-on. Ruhn's grip tightens on my wrists and his nostrils flare with annoyance. "I didn't touch your Alpha. I would never break the treaty between the five packs."
"Liar," I spit. "There's nothing your pack wouldn't do for power."