Oath of the Hunter

13 - On The Hunt

That night, as Kay, Teo and Lachlan settle down around the table for a late dinner, Rowan and I join them. Imogen has disappeared to speak with Darius and Milo about the wolf body. Hopefully she can talk some sense into the alpha and convince him to start seeing us as allies instead of threats.

In the meantime, the rest of us discuss the night's events in hushed tones— or, the others do, at least. I'm sat at the end of the table, a vast array of weapons displayed before me. One of the essentials I couldn't leave home without was a whetstone, and I use it now to sharpen my blades with the added benefit of seeming too vengeful for anyone to bother me.

Plans flit through my head; ideas are sparks attempting to light the embers of my frustration into infernos.

I can feel the heat of my family's attention on my skin but I'm caught too deep in my distraction to give them any of mine.

The keys to Teo's car are in my and Rowan's room. If I leave at dawn, I can catch the hunters unaware, sleeping and blissfully ignorant of my presence until it's too late. I'll break in through the fire exit, take them out one by one, and force answers out of the lone survivor. Are there any more of you? Where did you come from? What was your plan? How did you find this place? What gave them away?

"... know emotions are running high, right now," Rowan says, his voice a beacon in the fog smothering me. Against my better judgement, my eyes flicker up to regard him through the cover of my tousled hair. As though feeling my attention, his bronze gaze fixes on me for a moment before sliding away. "We'll keep trying to convince him. We could lead the hunters out into the woods bordering the warehouse— that way, we can shift and no one will see us."

Lachlan hums thoughtfully. "If we station a wolf or two there, maybe they can pick up on the hunters' plans. We'll be ready for whatever attacks they're planning."

"We need to do something," Matteo adds, frowning as he crosses his arms and leans a little closer. In a quieter voice, he forges on, "I think grief has clouded his judgement. We're sitting ducks here and he knows it. Taking the fight to the hunters is the only way to stop them without risking more lives. Without the hunters to worry about, we can focus on whoever's killing his scouts. Right, Riv?"

At my name, every pair of eyes fixes upon me. The open trust behind their gazes catches me off-guard and for a moment I only stare back.

I won't risk their lives over this.

The shutters slam down behind my expression. "Exactly," I say, my knife hissing against the whetstone in symphony.

As the others continue their conversation, throwing around potential plans, Rowan stays quiet. His gaze is locked on me, tracking every slight movement. Brows pinched, posture wound tight, a frown tugging at his features.

If he has any idea of my own plan, he doesn't mention it.

Once we've cleared the table and dispersed into our respective rooms, I set my belt of freshly-sharpened knives on the bedside table and dress down for bed.

Rowan follows my lead, and though the air feels thick, he doesn't break the silence gathering between us.

Until, at last, I get beneath the sheets.

"I know something's bothering you. Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, his voice a gentle murmur as he slides into bed behind me.

I pull the covers over me a little more and shake my head.

"That's alright," he tells me, his tone a soft caress. Guilt spears my chest, but the desire to make sure he's safe keeps me in check. "I just... I want you to know I'm here to listen whenever you're ready. Goodnight, love."