Chapter 1— Lilith POV
What could be worse than attending a full moon hunt for werewolves searching for their mates disguised as an omega? Nothing could possibly be worse than that. Even so here I am, dressed in a plain white top and jeans, on the run from werewolves and Lycans. Having glamoured myself with the scent of an omega werewolf, male werewolves chase after me, set to assert me. But that would be after I have my sword deep in their throat.
I ran hard. For the past few months I'd been looking forward to this night, waiting for the moment I would put my abilities to good use.
A deep growl rumbled from behind, and I dared not turn around to look. More than five werewolves had joined in the chase, but they were not the reason I was here. I was at this full moon hunt for the Lycan Prince, whom I believe was a participant in this hunt for a mate.
For a moment, I had a second thought about striking down the werewolves with my sword. But killing five werewolves would draw me attention.
Cold sweat pebbled my forehead as I ran hard. If someone had told me a few months ago that I would find myself in the hunt of werewolves and Lycans, I would have cut their neck.
Older Lycans and werewolves were stationed everywhere to keep the youngsters at bay, considering how exciting, and traumatic it could be when they connect with their mates. Traumatic since the males can sometimes run into a thing called hype. The hype compels them to be overpossessive around their mates. They would rub their scent everywhere around them, kill any male who comes an inch closer, attack the female when she resists the bond, and, on some occasions, try to force themselves on their mates.
I hurtled through the woods, each step faster than the last. Faster and faster, I sprinted to find the Lycan Prince. Having perceived and mastered his scent for a few weeks, I knew the direction to follow. His scent lingered faintly in the air, and I believed he'd once been here.
All I needed to do was get to him; the others were collateral. For the few months that I waited for this day, I took my time reading books about the full-moon hunt. Those who didn't find their mates during the hunt often chose anyone around, mostly an omega, to have for the night.
They wanted me to chase after the Lycan Prince, win the chase amongst dozens of different females, and take him away from the crowd. Once I had him all alone, I was going to kill him. After I'd killed the Prince, perhaps I'd hunt for the Lycan King too, and kill him. Perhaps I'd kill every werewolf participating in this hunt.
I smiled. I'd like to hear the sound of their screams as I drive my sword through their hearts. I'd like to feel the last beat of their heart in my hands before I rip them away.
Taking a deep breath, I ran harder. There was no room for fear, for sorrow when I was an experienced, centuries-old, powerful hunter. There was no need for pity except that blinding rage to kill werewolves and Lycans.
Just then, I noticed the woods had suddenly grown quiet. I slowly turned around to realize that the werewolves had given up on the chase. They probably moved to the next werewolf on board. But even the guards and elders were not around. I didn't see a single werewolf nearby. Breathing into the air, I realized how far I'd ran away from the hunt.
Gritting my teeth, I cursed inwardly and turned around, prepared to find my way back to the hunt when a scent drifted into my nostrils. I felt a cold shiver, and without warning, I was pinned against a tree.
"Hunter," he growled as my glamour slipped away to reveal dark red eyes. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
I smiled. My perfect kill for the night.
"Just who I was expecting." I drove my knee into his bottom hard, and he swiftly released me.
Before I could summon my sword, I was pinned against the tree again. I should have known how fast the Lycan King is. Morgan warned me that he is the most powerful and feared Lycan in Malraux. But I wasn't afraid of him. I believed I could take him down.
"Who sent you?" His blue eyes burned with rage.
"Wrong question." I threw a punch at his chin and quickly escaped from his grasp.
"The question you should be asking is why I'm here."
The Lycan King, Maverick, drew his claws out. "I am going to kill you, hunter. And I mean it."
I extended my hands, summoning my sword, and it instantly appeared in my grip. In the dark night, the sword glowed dark red. When a hunter is anointed at the age of sixteen, their sword is like any normal sword.
But the more people they killed with the sword, the more powerful they became, and the more colour would enhance it. I was two hundred and seventy-five years old, and I've killed more Lycans and werewolves than my years on this world.
Fingers tightening around my sword, I began to circle Maverick. He circled me too.
With a deep growl, he lunged for me.
I moved back, swinging up my sword to block his claws, which were aimed for my throat. He lunged again, and as his claws grazed the sharp edge of my sword, I slammed it into his chest. The sword slashed through his clothes and skin, drawing blood.
Maverick stumbled into the tree and swiftly moved away from the attack that would have taken his head.
"Guess you're not as powerful as the rumours claimed." I smiled.
"And I guess all the hunters are daft if they believe they can kill me. They never learn, do they?"
Without warning, he gripped my neck, claws digging into my flesh.
"Every hunter I've killed is as foolish as the rest," he growled deep. "I'll make sure your death is more painful than anything you imagine, and send your head to the others as a warning."
As he continued his threat, I smiled and slammed my sword through his ribs. He staggered back, claws retracting as he fell to his knees before me.
"Look who is on his knees," I smiled. "If it isn't the most powerful Lycan—the King of Lycans and werewolves."
He growled as he clutched his ribs.
"What would they say when they hear of your death?" I asked. "Most would probably not give a fuck."
He glared, struggling to break free of my magic.
I would take my time in killing him. The Lycan king had no idea what sort of monster I was willing to become in order to eradicate Lycans and werewolves from this world.
"When I'm done with you, I will find everyone you love and kill them too."
He groaned. "I will kill you first."
As I lifted my sword, prepared to slice his head, an abnormal chill crept through me. It slowly consumed my flesh and pebbled my skin with goosebumps. My brows furrowed as I stared at those dark ocean eyes, wondering what had come upon me. As I stared at him, my body started aching for him. Hunger and desire washed through me. It drew me closer to him. I wanted to claim his lips and have him deep inside me.
All of a sudden, something hit my back, and I staggered, nearly falling to the floor when strong arms caught me. As another painful object sunk into my flesh, I groaned, staring into Maverick's eyes as he pulled me closer and whispered something I could barely hear.
"Mate…"
What? How was this possible? Hunters never have mates. And the fact that the Lycan king, the one person I despised most, was my mate made me confused.
My entire body wracked with searing pain, but I tried to hide it from my face. Footsteps approached. When I looked up, I found a young female standing close. Her gaze and the arrow she held were leveled upon me. She started to say something but her words were silenced as my entire body was pulled into a world of darkness.