Two Hearts: The Hunt [Slowly Editing]

Chapter Forty-Eight

A/N- The Unknown POV is setting you guys up for the next book so if you're not planning on reading then you can skim it over :)

Last official chapter :) are you guys excited??

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Unknown POV

With thoughtful eyes, the man gazed out into the dried landscape that rose and dipped out into the distance. If he strained his eyes enough he thought he could catch a glimpse of walled rock as it peeked over the crest of one of the faraway hills, the extent of its height hidden by pale, dry grass.

He lifted the hood of his cloak over his head just as another violent gust of icy wind blew into the small area of his dwelling, its force bouncing off the natural, rocky walls and creating a hollowed, eerie whistle that echoed off into the shadows.

"My Priest, we have news about the events in Fairview Hills," a familiar voice spoke from somewhere to his left; he turned his gaze in its direction and caught sight of his comrade Therese-one of the first who had agreed with his plan for rebellion-appearing out from the bend of the cave.

"What is it?" he inquired. "Is it all over?"

"Yes," she said. Behind her, the rest of their group appeared, wearing marks of battle on their starkly contrasting skins. "The King is dead. The Princess claims to have killed him herself."

The man was shocked. He didn't think the Princess and her dog were capable of killing the King, despite his clan's immense faith.

It is not your clan anymore, he spoke fervently to himself. And it never will be again.

"Joel," he spoke to the gathered crowd of about a dozen individuals behind Therese, his eyes finding a pair of pale green irises. "Go to the castle and investigate the legitimacy of this claim. We must be certain that he is indeed dead. Make sure you do not get caught."

"Yes sir," the werewolf said with a nod of the head, and he took off in the opposite direction from which the cave-the one he had barred with his own magic not long ago-was facing.

"Why didn't you let one of us go?" a rather short female vampire who the man still did not know the name of complained. "We're much faster than those disgusting mutts-"

"Susannah," another voice coming from a pale, older woman with snow-white hair warned. "Remember your place here."

"Yeah, bloodsucker," a werewolf by the name of Bruce taunted. "Remember your place-"

"Enough," the man said sternly, effectively shutting them all up. He blew out a breath and returned his gaze to Therese's peculiar one. "What else do you have to report?"

"The Soul Eaters proved to be an efficient way of allowing for more direct contact between the vampires and the werewolves," she said, a gloating edge to her words. She lifted the corner of her full lips into a smirk that he had come to love so much. "There are many casualties on both sides."

"Yet they are still leaning towards peace," he answered, crossing his flimsy arms over his chest. Another gust of wind tore at his stiffened form, making the strands of his long hair hit his face.

Therese cast her deep orange eyes downward. "Yes. Unfortunately."

He opened his mouth to pronounce an angry curse, but the sound of Joel's voice beat him to it.

"The King is dead," he confirmed. "But he is not the only one. The Queen-" A flash of pain suddenly crossed his face as he added, "and... the werewolf. Caleb."