Chapter 33: Another Attempt
The next morning, a knock came at dawn.
It was a soldier in Genrik’s colors, standing straight-backed and silent, his face as unreadable as stone. He didn’t speak. He just handed Lucas a folded note.
Lucas read it and arched a brow. Then handed it to me.
Lord Genrik requests your company on the grounds. The hunt begins at second light.
I stared at the words, unease tightening its grip on my spine.
"A hunt?" I muttered. "Now? And why could the guard just say it?"
Lucas’s jaw scoffed. "I don’t know what his intentions are but we’re about to find out soon."
We dressed quickly and left the quarters. The sky outside was cloudy, tinged pink with the rising sun. We followed the soldier past the estate gardens and out to the forest edge, the trees bowed low and the scent of dew clung to the leaves.
The hunting grounds were alive with quiet menace.
Genrik waited there, clad in dark leather and wolf-fur bracers, bow slung over his shoulder. A half-dozen guards flanked him, all bearing longbows and silver-tipped arrows.
Three young werewolves stood kneeling near the trees—no older than twenty, their clothes torn, skin bruised. One of them looked up, and I saw it in his eyes.