Hunter

33. How to Realize The Truth

Say whatever you will about me, but the one thing I've never done and never will do is go back on my word.

Fifteen-year-old, emotionally shocked me told a brand-new werewolf Alpha that I'd hunt him down and make him pay for killing my dad. I meant that.

Twenty-three-year-old me told that same Alpha seven years later that I wouldn't try to escape. I meant that too, though I only made that promise to begin with because being in such close quarters to Toronto's pack would greatly help my half-baked revenge plan.

And two months after that promise, I told Luca that I wouldn't go see Elijah, under any circumstances. Well, I didn't say it like that, but the overall message was heavily implied.

I wasn't a dog to be summoned. I was half-witch, not half-werewolf - which was a fact that was still difficult to fully comprehend.

I had a supernatural parent. I wasn't completely human. I was supernatural. My whole life, I thought I was one thing when in reality, I was really something else. It's a lot to take in.

Of course, my attention wasn't fixated on that new piece of information; instead, I'd tucked it safely into some dark corner of my mind that was cluttered with cobwebs and tumbleweeds to be taken out, examined, and absorbed some other day. I had other things to worry about, such as figuring out how the hell Rebecca's going to find Elijah's mate to talk him out of human oppression. Though I was much more in favor of Evangeline's plan B, which included simply murdering him so Rebecca could take his place as Alpha.

Though killing him would be much easier if I had something to kill him with. But unfortunately, my beloved silver dagger was still sitting somewhere in Elijah's study, gathering dust.

My fingers twitched, wishing for the comforting way the dagger rested in my hand. I missed how satisfying it felt to use the dagger, the way it cleaved through skin, muscle, and bone as though the werewolves I slew with it were made of nothing more than paper - well, evil paper that gave out fatal paper cuts if you weren't careful.

I cast the thought from my head, focusing instead on the book splayed out across my lap. It was one of the books Simon had brought me during the end of my solitude, an informative textbook like A Study of The Supernatural, but focused entirely on werewolves. I wanted to know more about werewolf bonds. How easily broken were they? Was a pack blindly loyal to their Alpha Would Elijah's mate be able to help us in our cause? Of course, if his mate happened to be just as stubborn and immoral as he, then we'd all be completely and utterly fucked.

So, here's to hoping that his mate just so happens to be a human sympathizer.

It would be very convenient and very concerning if something happened to go right in my life. If his mate easily joined our cause, then my first thought would be if she was a spy. Or a saboteur. Or a spy saboteur.