Oath of the Hunter

28 - Piqued Curiosity

Rowan

The sky is a blanket of coal speckled with weak starlight by the time we make it back to Lakeside. When we breach the pack's borders, I catch golden eyes shimmering in the darkened shrubs courtesy of the wolves on patrol. Unlike on our first arrival, they let us pass without issue, and River drives down a trail barely wide enough for the car to fit until we reach the heart of Lakeside, shadowed by the Ferreus hunters.

Already, news of our arrival has spread like a wildfire and a group of people wait for us just outside the beacon of the pack house, the cosy lights from within fending off the worst of the shadows. Imogen, Darius, Matteo and Kay stand with arms crossed and guarded expressions. More people and wolves alike wait at the very edges of the treeline, curious yet cautious.

When River parks and shuts off the engine, he takes a deep, steeling breath and grips the steering wheel tight. "Tell me this isn't a mistake," he says, staring fixedly out the windscreen.

"I think you're doing the right thing, love," I tell him honestly, placing my hand over his. "We need their help with this, whether we like it or not."

"Besides," Lachlan forges on, his voice dripping with assurance, "You're our guy when it comes to dealing with hunters, Riv. We can deal with these ones, too."

He nods, his resolve strengthening, and when he gets out of the car, he does so with a controlled composure; head held high, posture strong and confident. My fated; a force to be reckoned with. He could convince the tides to change with that resolved expression of his.

Lach and I get out the car with him, and together we stride across the clearing for the familiar faces waiting for us, leaving the hunters to make their own way at their own pace. This is as difficult for them as it is for us, even if they do have a tendency to kill first and ask questions later— if at all.

Kay and Matteo are buzzing with relief, and they waste no time in rushing to our sides. Closer to the house, Darius and Imogen wilt with solace when they find us whole and intact, but their guards are quick to build up again at the slam of car doors.

We turn to survey the Ferreus hunters as they stalk forwards like vengeful ghosts; their silver eyes piercing, their belts of weapons glinting like stars. Ivar leads them on, the old journal he found tucked into the crook of his arm.

They falter a fair distance from us, gathered in a defensive group, and their gazes sweep across the treeline, tracking the golden eyes peering out at them.

"They're here to assess the threat the lycans pose," River says, breaking the thick, choking silence that has descended over the clearing. "And then they will decide whether to stay and help or not."

Imogen inclines her head. "Of course. We have some spare rooms if—"

"That won't be necessary," Ivar shuts her down at once, his features twisting as though he's smelt something awful. "We'll stay in the town we passed a few miles back."

River is wound tighter than a coil, his electric eyes snapping from Imogen to Ivar and the other hunters, desperate to catch any hint of violence before it can happen and plunge this clearing into a war zone. His fingers clench and unclench at his sides, as though desperate to feel the assuring hilt of his knives. I stand close enough for our shoulders to brush.

"What do you know about these lycanthropes?" Elias asks, looking every bit as uncomfortable as Ivar at the mere prospect of hearing us out.

Darius starts to explain the dire situation— his first encounter with the lycan that turned his daughter and took his beta, the numerous run-ins as they hunted his patrols, the confrontation where we realised there are two, not one, and the loss of Milo. He explains Imogen's research into Ferreus hunters and her belief that they are the only ones capable of helping.