Page 6 of Hunted

A young wolf stood in the common rooms of the main house as Luke entered.

That was when Luke truly knew something was wrong—when the young wolf turned to look at him with wide, worried eyes.

“What is it?” he demanded right away.

“Uhm,” she stuttered several times before she answered. “Abigail is gone. She’s left.”

“What the hell does that mean? What do you mean she’s left?” Luke was conscious his voice was dangerously sharp.

He tried to soften his tone, tried to calm down.

But all he could see was an image of Abigail, leaving.

Just then, Daniel, an older wolf, walked into the common rooms, and Luke rounded on him immediately.

“Where’s Abigail gone?”

Daniel shrugged. “She left. She didn’t give anyone a reason. She just left.”

Luke swallowed several gulps of air as he struggled to think straight.

How had his mate just up and left without giving anyone a reason? And why had they let her go without demanding an explanation from her? When Luke turned, and found himself in front of a mirror, he saw that his face was white and his eyes were wet.

He wasn’t doing much better on the inside.

Inside, his wolf paced and let out a pained howl every few seconds.

The beast was in clear distress, mirroring everything Luke felt inside.

Your father,a voice in his head spoke suddenly.Your father, you need to see your father.

He exhaled as a slight calm descended on him. He had assigned his father to take care of Abigail’s safety while he was gone.

Hopefully that meant the older wolf would be able to give him answers.

Luke wasn’t sure if his father had been waiting for him to arrive and question him, but when he walked up to his father’s quarters, the door to Christian’s study was open. The man sat inside with a cigar in one hand and a glass of bourbon in the other.

“Son,” Christian spoke in his gravelly voice.

“Dad!” There was enough tension in Luke’s voice to snap an elastic band. This didn’t seem to faze Christian, who simply raised an eyebrow and stared silently at Luke.

“Abigail left! How could you let that happen? I assigned you to protect her!”

Christian sighed heavily and stood. “I have been racking my brain.” Christian swallowed the last of the bourbon in the glass. “Trying to figure out how to tell you this.”

“Tell me what?” Luke felt himself deflate at his father’s words.

That was when he felt it—an overwhelming sense of dread.

Later on, he would tell himself that a singular sense of dread had been hanging heavily in the air all along.

“Abigail came to me,” his father said as he started pacing around the room. “She said she wasn’t sure she wanted to spend the rest of her life with you. She asked me how she could reject you as her mate.”

“You, you can’t… you can’t be serious.” Luke staggered backward a few steps.

Christian sighed and nodded heavily. “She said she needed to find a worthy mate. She said she could never really love you.”

“No!” Luke’s voice echoed around the room. Then again, more softly, “No.”

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