Page 113 of The Cursed Wolf King

“Later,” I said softly, wrapping my arm around her and kissing the top of her head.

Together, we faced the fire, the heat warming our skin as Rhys shifted and howled into the night. The sound of it was strained with emotion, and I hardly recognized my brother in it. Others shifted to join him, their voices rising to meet the night sky.

Despite the symphony of my thousands-strong pack surrounding me, Mariyah’s words coiled in my mind, tightening with every breath.

There will be no peace for Orion until the lost threads are woven together again.

Eve leaned into me, but my attention drifted to the horizon, where the firelight faded into shadow.

My brothers.

The bond between us had been a lifeline once. If only I could reach them now. My arm tingled, and I instinctivelytouched the tattoo. It pulsed beneath my fingertips, almost alive.

Eve’s hand tightened around mine, pulling my focus back to her. Her wolf glimmered in her eyes, and I knew she felt it too: this wasn’t the end. It was only the beginning of a new battle.

The pack might be rising in strength along with our growing numbers, but shadows lingered, and we still had to fight.

I held Eve close as the fire roared and the wolves howled. It was exactly what I’d dreamed of, but the curse settled over us like an unfinished story.

The next chapter was already clawing at the edges of the horizon.

49

RHYS

The bonfire crackled behind me, voices rising in a chaotic harmony of laughter and howls. Blair was halfway through some story that had some Heraclid wolves doubled over, their laughter a little too high-pitched, but hell, I’d take it. Tension had clung to this pack for months like a bad smell. Tonight felt lighter—not perfect, not by a long shot, but closer to it.

Logan stood with Eve by his side, and I caught the subtle incline of his head as she spoke, like there was no one in the world but her. The firelight caught the sharp lines of her face, her strength undeniable. Alpha was more than a title she’d claimed; it was something she wore, self-evident. And Logan was the better for it. I wouldn’t tell him, of course—he didn’t need his ego fed—but it was there in the way he carried himself. He was whole in a way he hadn’t been since...

Since before our brothers had disappeared.

I raised my mug to my lips, but stopped. A scent hit melike a jab to the face. Sharp, acrid, just wrong. My wolf stirred, a ripple of unease snaking through me. It was faint, elusive, the same thing I’d been catching in flashes for weeks. Always out of reach.

The hair on my arms rose as I scanned the crowd, laughter and firelight blurring into a haze of sound and movement. I forced a grin, clapped Blair on the shoulder in passing, and handed my mug off to a kid who looked too nervous to refuse. The edges of the clearing beckoned, shadows pooling where the firelight couldn’t reach.

Every step away from the bonfire pulled the air tighter around me. My senses sharpened, the scent growing stronger, each inhale scratching at something primal. My pulse quickened, not with fear, but with the razor-sharp focus of a wolf on the hunt.

Whatever—or whoever—was out there, I wasn’t walking away this time.

The scent curled through the air, elusive yet sharp enough to set my nerves on edge. It wove between the mingling smells of pine and smoke, sinking its claws into my senses like a predator marking its kill.

My wolf bristled, the tension coiling tighter with every breath. We didn’t just sense danger—we felt hunted.

And I fucking hated it.

I am the hunter on these lands.

The laughter and crackle of the bonfire faded as I slipped deeper into the forest’s shadows. Each movement was calculated, my boots crushing pine needles with muted snaps. The faint glow of the fire lingered behind me as the scent drew me further, each inhale scraping against amemory I couldn’t quite reach. Familiar and foreign. Comfortless.

I crouched low, letting my wolf guide me. The forest was alive with its own rhythm—branches creaking under the weight of the wind, leaves whispering secrets I couldn’t decipher. The moonlight fractured against the canopy, casting shards of silver across the ground. My pulse quickened, but I kept it leashed. Whatever I was chasing, it was close. And it was ready.

Then I saw Sable. Recognized her immediately though her back was to me. The woman from the café with the Heraclid scent who’d led Logan straight into the fight with Grayson that could have ended him.

Maybe that was what she’d wanted all along. And she was back to finish the job.

She stood with her silhouette outlined against the bright moon. I moved in careful silence as I closed the distance between us, hoping to catch her off guard.

My hand clamped down on her arm, hard enough to make her wince as she spun to face me.

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