Moonrise Hunt: Rejected Mates Book 1
img img Moonrise Hunt: Rejected Mates Book 1 img Chapter 3 THREE
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Chapter 6 SIX img
Chapter 7 SEVEN - PART 1 img
Chapter 8 SEVEN - PART 2 img
Chapter 9 EIGHT img
Chapter 10 NINE img
Chapter 11 TEN img
Chapter 12 ELEVEN img
Chapter 13 TWELVE img
Chapter 14 THIRTEEN img
Chapter 15 FOURTEEN img
Chapter 16 FIFTEEN img
Chapter 17 SIXTEEN img
Chapter 18 SEVENTEEN img
Chapter 19 EIGHTEEN img
Chapter 20 NINETEEN img
Chapter 21 TWENTY img
Chapter 22 TWENTY ONE img
Chapter 23 TWENTY TWO img
Chapter 24 TWENTY THREE img
Chapter 25 TWENTY FOUR PART 1 img
Chapter 26 TWENTY FOUR - PART 2 img
Chapter 27 TWENTY FIVE img
Chapter 28 TWENTY SIX img
Chapter 29 TWENTY SEVEN img
Chapter 30 TWENTY EIGHT img
Chapter 31 TWENTY NINE img
Chapter 32 THIRTY img
Chapter 33 THIRTY ONE img
Chapter 34 THIRTY TWO img
Chapter 35 THIRTY THREE img
Chapter 36 THIRTY FOUR img
Chapter 37 THIRTY FIVE img
Chapter 38 THIRTY SIX img
Chapter 39 THIRTY SEVEN img
Chapter 40 THIRTY EIGHT img
Chapter 41 THIRTY NINE img
Chapter 42 FORTY img
Chapter 43 FORTY ONE img
Chapter 44 FORTY TWO img
Chapter 45 FORTY THREE img
Chapter 46 FORTY FOUR img
Chapter 47 FORTY FIVE img
Chapter 48 FORTY SIX img
Chapter 49 FORTY SEVEN img
Chapter 50 FORTY EIGHT img
Chapter 51 FORTY NINE img
Chapter 52 FIFTY img
Chapter 53 FIFTY ONE img
Chapter 54 FIFTY TWO img
Chapter 55 FIFTY THREE img
Chapter 56 FIFTY FOUR img
Chapter 57 FIFTY FIVE img
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Chapter 3 THREE

BAILEY

I barely register the presence of the men who were not chosen, as they are escorted off the field. In previous years, I would have paid closer attention to their disgruntled expressions as they remained behind while the new mates embarked on their first hunt together. However, my focus tonight is elsewhere, consumed by the anticipation of embarking on my own official hunt with my mate.

"Bring forth the quarry!" Brandon's commanding voice echoes across the field. A group of five Night Weavers, their wrists bound and connected by a lengthy iron chain, are brought forward. It was by chance that we discovered iron's ability to disrupt their magic, and I am grateful for this knowledge as it allows us to keep them captive. These five individuals would have met their demise upon capture had we not required them for the hunt. Consequently, we have kept them imprisoned throughout the year. This implies that the hunt will not be a genuine test of their abilities, for these prisoners are far from their full strength. Months of deprivation, both in terms of nutrition and the ability to utilize their magic, have left them weakened. Perhaps they hold onto a glimmer of hope for escape, but the odds are stacked against them. This hunt merely serves as part of the ceremony.

The newly mated couples pivot, their attention fixed upon the prey before them. Vermon flashes me a mischievous grin, and I cannot help but mirror it with my own. This is bound to be an exhilarating experience. The Night Weaver standing in front of us appears to be a man slightly older than myself. A flicker of inhuman panic flickers in his eyes as he gazes upon me. However, I am indifferent to his plight.

To me, he is far from being human. Every Night Weaver on this planet deserves nothing but death for the havoc they have caused. Their insatiable thirst for moon magic, their excessive reliance on its power, to the point of upsetting the natural balance of our world, has led to its downfall.

"Set the prisoners free," Brandon commands. The chains restraining them are released, and without hesitation, the Night Weavers dash into the depths of the woods. Vermon and I share a laughter, well aware that their feeble attempts to outrun us are futile.

"One kill per couple," Brandon declares. "Bring back the body as proof once you've made the kill." He doesn't explicitly state what follows, but we all understand. After the hunt, the moment of our first mating awaits. That is the part I am truly eager for.

"Go," Brandon urges, and we swiftly shed our clothes. I catch a fleeting glimpse of Vermon's physique before he undergoes a transformation, morphing into a magnificent gray wolf. Following suit, I allow my own inner wolf to emerge, finding solace in this form as we embark on the hunt. The wolf within me desires more than Vermon's physical presence.

I match Vermon's pace as we chase after the scent left by the Night Weaver. Although I have only caught a whiff of his scent before, he has been confined for so long that his odor is potent. If the Night Weavers possessed any intelligence, they would have taken measures to mask their scent immediately.

They would immerse themselves in water, rub their skin with aloe, or resort to their magical abilities. Such tactics would prove more effective in evading us rather than foolishly attempting to outrun us. Of course, if they possessed even an ounce of intelligence, they wouldn't have been the cause of our world's destruction. We wouldn't have dedicated ourselves to the mission of hunting them down.

Vermon accelerates, stealing a glance in my direction, challenging me to keep up with his pace. It's a dare I readily accept. I push myself even harder, for I am undoubtedly the swiftest woman of my age. There's a reason why I was chosen as a mate to our fiercest warrior. Perhaps he is testing me, and I am determined to prove my worth.

Suddenly, Vermon veers off to the left, but I come to a halt. He's heading in the wrong direction. I can't explain how I know, but I feel a magnetic pull and that familiar flutter in my heart, guiding me. He continues to follow the scent, which seems like the correct course of action. Yet, somehow, I am certain that the Night Weaver we seek lies ahead, not to the left. It's a trick. Vermon looks at me in frustration, but I shake my head. He rolls his eyes, reluctantly trusting my instincts and follows my lead. I can sense his amusement, fully expecting to mock me later. And he probably will. There's no rational way for me to possess this knowledge.

Then, I catch the scent once more, and it's right upon us. The Night Weaver proves to be cleverer than I had anticipated. He must have taken a roundabout path, doubling back in an attempt to elude us. Perhaps he did indeed cross bodies of water, hoping to erase any trace of his trail. It might have worked if we hadn't taken this route. He stands before us, and as soon as he spots us, he levitates in the air. It's unnerving to witness them perform such eerie feats. However, what happens next brings me immense satisfaction. Vermon swiftly lunges at him, sinking his jaws around the Night Weaver's ankle, forcefully pulling him back down to earth. I step back, assuming my role in this endeavor, as the women assist with tracking but refrain from participating in the actual kill.

That's how the ritual goes, but man, it's frustrating. I don't like being stuck back here, just watching from the sidelines. I want to be in the thick of it, showing my new mate what I'm capable of. I've never taken down a Night Weaver before-no one does until they hit 23. Only the adults go on these hunts. But I'm confident I could handle it. Vermon seems to manage just fine without me, though. The fight is over in a blink of an eye. The Night Weaver lies motionless on the ground, blood pooling beneath him, his vacant eyes staring into nothingness. I look at him with a detached gaze. He got what was coming to him. I'm glad to see him dead.

Vermon shifts back into his human form. I do the same, and for a moment, we size each other up. I can tell he's checking out my physique, just as I'm taking in his. We both know what comes next.

"We better get this thing back," he says, gently nudging the lifeless body with his toe. I nod in agreement. The hunt ended sooner than expected. There's only one thing left for us to do tonight, and we still have plenty of hours ahead of us, but I don't want to wait any longer. I want him right now.

            
            

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