All Chapters of Hunting Season (A Royal Hunt Trilogy): Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Archibald stopped at an empty cabin in the woods. He was spent from continuously running, in his beast form, all night. He looked around and surmised that no living person was nearby. He swung open the cabin door, and a barren room welcomed them. There was a cot on one side, and a table and a chair on the other side. Other than those, there were no furniture in sight.He let Selene down. Her eyes were still puffy but her gaze still had the sharpness he was familiar with for a while now. He transformed back to his human form. His head wound already healed completely.“We’ll stay here until morning,” he announced. “Take a rest on the cot there while I keep watch.” He closed the door and made his way to the table. He dragged a finger on it, and felt the thick dust of disuse. He looked at the cot and it looked as abandoned as everything in the room. He looked for something to brush off the dust on the bed, but there were no personal items anyw

It was a long time since he went out of the Peaks and down to the humans. He remembered the past when they were at war. He was still quite young then; about the same age as his grandson. He liked the thrill of fighting against the lesser creatures but it was tiresome. It was a good exercise for the body, but such a waste of resources and time. He reminisced the times when they were moving from place to place, led by a very ambitious alpha. Radolf was a known for being outspoken about his desires to create his own pack of werewolves. So, one day, he just gathered people who wanted to join him on his endeavor. As young as he was, the promised adventure was irresistible. So, he followed him along with a small number of other youths. Radolf was a great warrior and not much of an adventurer. He figured it would be easier to travel in one direction, kill everyone in their way, pillage their homes, and continue marching forward. They did this for quite a long time. He can’t

They reached the outskirts of Ulminster in the middle of the afternoon. After a quick rest back in the cabin, they continued their journey south. Archibald would have liked for Selene to take a longer rest, but he can’t shake the feeling that they should hurry to the city. Selene was still weak so he insisted he carry her on his back on their way, expecting her to decline his offer. To his surprise, she did not oppose the idea, and happily obliged him. So, they continued on their travels, with Selene on his back, and a makeshift basket, filled with some fruits and cooked meat, on one hand. Upon reaching the gates, the guards above the watchtower shouted at them. “Do you have any business with the city?” He put down Selene on the ground and shouted back, “We are looking for shelter!” The guard eyed them below. He became quite worried that their appearance will deter the guards from letting them in. He was wearing a shabby curtain he pilfered from the c

Selene was escorted into a dingy room by Charlotte. It looked and smelled… dirty. The bed was a mess, the covers were strewn all over the place. The window was sealed by planks of wood, leaving the interior dark and musky. “Do you have another—” The door suddenly shut behind her as she was talking. Then she heard locks clicking outside. She turned the knob and pushed on the door but it did not budge. “Let me out!” she shouted at the woman on the other side. She thumped on the door, kicked on it, smacked it with her hands. “Let me out!” she repeated but she did not receive any response. She then heard heavy footsteps walking away from the door. She became from frantic and desperate. “If you don’t open this door, my friend will hurt you once he came back,” she threatened her. “You don’t know what you’re up against.” She heard a hearty laugh coming from the outside. “Sure, sure,” the husky voice of the woman said. “As if he’ll come back.” The footsteps continued

“Werewolves are really fascinating creatures,” Archibald heard as he slowly woke up from a dreamless sleep. He groaned as he tried to sit up, but the strange heaviness of his body pulled him back down. “You must be feeling so tired,” said the familiar voice. “If you were not a werewolf, you should have been dead the moment you tried to cast a spell, but you are no ordinary man, though.” Archibald rubbed his palm over his eye. His head hurts like needles were being pushed it. He winced as he slowly boosted himself into a sitting position. “What happened?” he muttered. “Well, it seems you tried using the grimoire without prior knowledge and training. One of my followers found you, lying unconscious in a pool of your own blood, in front of Lovers’ Maw.” Massimo reared his head close to his and stared suspiciously into his eyes. “Care to tell me what happened in there?” “A werewolf attack…” he started. “Your safehouse was attacked by one of the werewolves from my