The Making of a Dark Gamma - Book 1
The Hunt

The light filters through the green canopy above, spring had come early this year, and the leaves were still not yet fully grown, but developed enough to create a dappled pattern of sunshine on the floor, in another month, even less light will be able to extend its long fingers to the ground.

Sat among the budding canopy, as high as they can to aid their camouflage, the hunter observes the three young leaders in training, confident in their power and own safety, meeting up is dangerous for them right now, so they do a quick scan to ensure no one is near them, but looking backwards, never thinking danger could lie ahead.

A predatory smile hits the hunter's face.

Confidence, pride, call it what you will, that is their downfall, the hunter looks around taking out all three here is dangerous, there is probably only a sixty per cent chance of succeeding and getting away, better than average but patience will reap better rewards.

They are still too close to their pack house, the trackers would flood the area in minutes and it’s too open here, and getting caught isn’t the plan.

The odds aren’t bad, not impossible, just patience brings less risk, they’ve already proved they aren’t staying solo.

Watching silently as they exchange their outer clothing to muddle their scent before they head off in different directions, Lance, the Alpha’s son, he’s the biggest prize goes straight ahead, his second, the Beta’s son Gareth goes left and his Gamma to be, Charlie, has gone right, he’s the fastest of the three and that makes him the most dangerous if the hunter becomes the hunted, speed is their key defence and Charlie negates that.

Regardless, it’s Lance that the hunter plans to follow, but first, the hunter thinks to themself, Lance needs to be upwind, being scented by him would ruin the plan, they don’t want to get into close combat, quick clean kills make for greater odds of success.

As Lance hits the tree line, he stops, sniffing the air briefly, an arrow is nocked in the hunter's bow, ready to fire if needed, but for now, there is no tension on the bowstring, bow held down hiding its shape among the branches, camouflaged, but ready, the hunter steadies their breathing and heart rate.

Engaging here will be difficult, but, if that’s the hand fate has dealt so be it.

Holding their nerve, the hunter keeps their body relaxed, moving only as the tree moves, eyes down, but not closed, alert and ready, all too aware that unexpected movement or catching someone’s eye gives away a hidden person.

Lance satisfies himself there’s nothing to worry about before he moves on, carefully, the hunter drops silently from the trees, years of training allowing them to pass almost unnoticed, following behind but staying downwind, tracking him from afar they watch and assessing his seemingly random pathing.

If there’s one thing they know, it’s people are rarely random, even when they are trying to be, they default to a pattern, the hunter just has to learn the patterns to predict the outcome, watching and learning is their job.

Forty minutes later, the hunter is hidden in the trees that skirt a small clearing dedicated to the Goddess, finally realising where Lance’s seemingly erratic path would eventually lead him, after all, they’d had the rules from their father drummed into them from an early age.

’Rule number three – Knowing your enemy means it’s easier to predict their moves’

The hunter has had a year to get to know them, watching from the sidelines, if they were right, the three of them would meet here, if they were wrong, then they would lose the chance to take them all out easily, letting the trail get cold.

It was a gamble; hell life is just one big gamble the hunter reasoned, so it was worth it, worst case, there would be other chances, for now, the hunter had created two traps in preparation and it was nothing more than a waiting game.

As the hunter waited patiently, the once bright sky started to dull, the sun starting its descent, ready to allow the cool of the night to come forth, provided the final burst of warmth displayed as deep orange streaks peppered the sky, colouring the forest with splashes of brightness as if it’s a last-ditch attempt to bring life into the world, before it finally has to concede its reign to the moon, sky darkening, colours fading to shadow.

The clearing looks less inviting, more ominous, but the hunter doesn’t feel fear, just calmness and an understanding of what’s to come, the task ahead is clear and not unwelcome.

As time lengthens like the shadows, doubt starts to nip at the edges of the hunter’s mind, was it too impulsive to drop the tail on Lance?

Thinking back on each decision isn’t healthy, self-doubt breeds failure, and failure brings consequences.

Movement in the shadows catches their eye, Lance gets to the edge of the clearing, and the hunter’s body and mind relax, where the soon-to-be Alpha goes, the rest will follow, it’s ingrained in this tight-knit group, instinctively the hunter relaxes, more confident now.

Lance has been hanging around at the edges ‘hiding’, while the hunter crouches silently in the tree, their eyes tracking Lance’s movement, all their senses on the alert for the others, they are coming, not even moving that quietly, foolish wolves make for easy targets, Charlie and Gareth appear from the opposite side, the loud crack of a breaking branch underfoot announces their arrival.

Quietly, the hunter decides it’s now or never, four arrows prepared, one nocked and the others in their right hand, like a broken fan, held as if fragile, between her fingers, for fast firing.

Slowing their breathing down, ready to strike, feeling the tension in the bow increase as they gradually pull back on it, their muscles reacting fluidly to keep the noise to a minimum, they quietly raise the bow.

Slow yet instinctive movements, borne of almost of decade of experience, like the breeze rippling through leaves, the hunter knows their motions need to be barely felt, kissing the recipient before they are aware it happened, only the song of the arrow in the air as a warning, after this first strike, their hiding place will be revealed, they have one chance and three targets.

Taking one last long slow breath, the hunter lets it leave their body quietly, taking any tension with it, before letting the first arrow fly at Lance, without waiting, the hunter turns, the second arrow already inflight towards Gareth as the sound of the first arrow thudding echoes in the clearing, causing a smile on the hunters’ face as the accompanying grunt tells them it hit hard and true.

The final arrow is nocked but Charlie is gone, distracted by the first arrow hitting, lost the hunter their advantage.

“Damn, not fast enough, I should have targeted him before the Beta”

The hunter mutters quietly, kicking themself for being too focussed on the Alpha’s son, realising the big mistake was to take out Lance first, focussing on the others would have been faster, two together is an easier first target.

Briefly surveying their handiwork, Lance, his white shirt gaining a deep red bloom, is already on the floor; Gareth is on his knees staring at the red stain across his chest acknowledging the fatal hit before he too hits the ground.

‘Here’s hoping I don’t pay for that mistake’ The hunter thinks to themselves, searching the treeline for some evidence of Charlie.

Very slowly, the hunter eases the tension off the bow, four arrows left, two still in the quiver and two left in their hand, Charlie will be on the alert, worse, the hunter realises, immediately Lance was down, warriors and trackers would be on their way and Charlie can tell them where to go, he needs to go down soon or the hunter has to get out of there quickly.

Time to be smarter, would the Gamma leave without checking his friends, probably, losing the ability to get a mind link with them should tell him they were down.

The hunter needs to collect their trophies at a minimum and that increases the risk of Charlie finding them, unmoving in the tree, they strain all their senses to search for a simple sound, a glimpse of movement or his scent.

Two out of three targets would be enough, as long as the hunter escapes, but if they are all out of the picture, they don’t have to worry about being hunted by the Gamma to be, but deep down, they know, it’s their pride that wants all three.

Adjusting their position very slowly to scan around the area near the tree they are sitting in, if the hunter was in Charlie’s position, circling from where the shots came from would be the plan, even from the edges of the clearing, two hits would give them a fairly accurate placement, the hunter starts checking for movement behind them.

“Shit” Charlie’s harsh tone punctuates the silence of the forest at the same time as the noise of a trap going off. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Jumping down gently, the hunter makes sure their hood is pulled as far forward as it can go, shrouding their features, before creeping towards the direction of their trap.

Charlie hangs upside down, looking deep into the hunter’s hood, as if straining to see the hidden features, his eyes widening, the hunter nods once in respect that he got away before, but now, it’s time for the final blow.

Raising their bow, an arrow nocked, they hesitate, recognising Charlie is about to speak.

Instead, a deep chuckle erupts from inside him

“A pup ... seriously an untested, green pup”

His voice barely a whisper in the quiet of the forest, but the hunter knows, his eyes have taken on a slightly glazed look, he’s mind linking the guards in the pack, hesitation can kill and the hunter knows they have hesitated for too long.

Letting the arrow fly, it finds the target, Charlie’s face changes to shock, briefly looking at his chest as the familiar red bloom takes over before he hangs helplessly.

Moving up to his body, the hunter takes their trophy, before stealthily heading back to where Lance and Gareth lay, unmoving, at either edge of the clearing, collecting the proof of kill, stashing them safely, before heading off, ascending back into the tree’s embrace once they are hidden from view.

In no time, the clearing will be filled with pack warriors, from the second they knew the Alpha’s son went down, they’d have sent them out, his Gamma not going down seconds after the Beta would have given them the direction.

The hunter hesitating, wanting to hear what Charlie had to say while he was in the trap, was mistake number two, the warriors would have now had both the description and direction to start their search in.

“Dammit, I should have taken the shot from further, made sure he was down before stepping closer.”

Their voice is barely audible above the noise of the forest.

“I can’t believe I screwed up there, again!”

The words quietly spoken, are lost in the wind, with no one yet close enough to hear them

Time to get away and there’s one place the hunter intends to hide, doubting they would be foolish enough to follow, using the tree branches to make their way through the forest, the hunter slips away.

The ‘pup’ as Charlie described them, has a smaller lightweight form, meaning they are light enough to get away with it, not yet fully grown, nor heavily muscled, the tree branches waiver but don’t break, finally, the hunter gets to the river via their aerial walkway.

Climbing high into the tree to hide the weapons, they will only get damaged in transit to their hiding place, so stashing them safely is key, a lesson they learnt early to avoid punishment.

Dropping down gently, with the ease of a trained athlete, onto the stones edging the river, masking their tracks as much as possible, they dive in and swim upstream

Carefully following the river to the waterfall, the confident howls of the warriors that have reached the bodies echo in the quiet of the forest, announcing their arrival, and letting the hunter know they have become the hunted.

It’s only a five-minute head start, but that’s all the hunter needs, pushing against the current, they speed up their swim, until they arrive at the base of the waterfall, after which this pack is named, Deadfalls, for the lives lost of those attempting to jump from the top.

Taking four fast gasps of air, the hunter dives under the angry cascade of water, to the small tunnel at the bottom, entering the tunnel, they pull themselves through the dark, rough stone flooded chamber before they finally explode into the inner dry cave.

They found this cave last year, but in the autumnal rains, it floods, you can tell by the marks on the walls, but for now the river level is back to normal and it’s a place to weather out the next few hours, while the search takes place.

Taking off their wet clothes and setting an alarm on their watch for two hours and fifty minutes before placing it on the floor, they shift into their wolf form, curling up to keep warm.

Sleep comes quickly, their wolf promising to keep watch, not that there’s anywhere for them to go if they are found, there’s one way in and one way out, but they’ve never smelt any other scent in the cave, it’s a safe haven, at least for now.

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