Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 17 : Hellhound

*Jared*

I could smell the Hellhound before I saw it. Every hair on my body stood on end as I backed Eliza into the forest, her

body trembling against my chest. She'd listened to me for once, which was a nice change of pace, but I'd still

forced her out of sleep with little explanation as to what the hell was going on. Still, she didn't make a sound as we

moved deeper into the trees, putting distance between us and every single supply that was meant to see us

through our three day journey.

We'd covered almost thirty miles in a single day on foot. It sounded like a great feat, and in ordinary circumstances,

it would have been. But the knowledge that a wayward witch and her bloodthirsty familiar had been this close to my

village rocked me to my core.

Brandt and Archer were screaming at each other over mindlink, relaying their coordinates to me as they dashed

through the woods after the creature that had circled back and was now inspecting our camp. They were trying to

wear it down. That was the only way a wolf could attempt to fight a hellhound.

“Eliza," I breathed against her hair, holding her a little tighter than was necessary. “I'm going to hide you–"

“What is it?" she replied, her voice a whisper against the wind whipping in a frenzy around us.

I felt the fear in her voice, but she wasn't trembling. She was pressed against me in a way that made me feel as

though she were sheltering me as much as I was doing my damndest to shelter her.

“A witch," I whispered, backing slowly into the forest. “Her hound is what Archer and Brandt are after."

I didn't need to explain what a Hellhound was. She knew, of that I was certain. Someone with the depth of

knowledge Eliza possessed in the antiquities would know what a Hellhound was, and why they were dangerous.

But if she was from the Realm of Light like I assumed, she might never have seen one. They may have just been a

myth to her people.

“Listen," I whispered, coming to stop in a thicket of towering birches. “You need to stay hidden, no matter what you

hear–"

“I heard the wind chimes in my dream," she whispered, looking up at me. “Like in the village."

I looked down at her, tempted to brush a rogue curl from her face but hesitated. Her eyes were shining the light of

dawn like sea glass. Every time I looked at her I felt a little lost–it was hard to explain. Something about her had me

questioning everything I'd told myself to be true over the years.

I didn't tolerate willful disobedience, not from my crew or the workers in my house.

But Eliza didn't give a s**t. And if I was being honest, it was what I liked about her the most.

I'd pushed and pushed her two nights ago in my study. I'd been trying to break her and bend her to my will only

because I needed her to prove to me with finality that it wasn't possible. She matched my energy with a fire so

intense it had burned through me, igniting something no one else had ever been able to access.

I'd met my match, and now I was standing in the Dark Forest on the edge of losing the only person who'd given me

anything to work with in terms of the artifact… to a f*****g witch.

“It's hunting you," I said as we came to a stop in a thicket of low-lying trees. The branches scraped against the top

of my head as I ducked and pulled her deeper into the woods. I knelt, pulling her beside me. “Look, I need to go–"

“What am I supposed to do? Fight off a f*****g Hellhound with my bare hands?"

I fought the urge to smile and kept my expression as level as possible.

“No, you're going to hide. You're going to run if it comes down to it. I'll find you. One of us will find you."

“Give me a knife, at least," she protested, reaching for the belt slung along my waist. I caught her by the wrist,

shaking my head. “If the hellhound is hunting me, then I need a way to defend myself. Give me a knife! You have at

least six on your belt. Between the three of you men, there are at least a dozen daggers, and Brandt and Archer

shifted, so what use–"

I unsheathed a dagger and held it by the blade, pressing the hilt in her open palm.

“Don't f*****g lose it–"

“Go save your friends. I'm fine."

I found it unlikely Archer and Brandt would take kindly to the idea that they needed saving. In the end, if it came to

it, it would likely be me who needed to be scraped off the forest floor.

The thought hit me like a ton of bricks as I quieted my breathing and listened to the forest around me. Not even the

birds were making noise. It was silent.

“It looked like a mountain lion," Eliza whispered as she examined the blade. “The hellhound."

“It probably was a mountain lion at one point, yes. Do you have much experience with witches?" I shrugged off my

vest and draped it over her shoulders.

“So much experience," she said sarcastically, but I felt like there was something else in her tone, something I

couldn't decipher. Something, I realized a moment too late, told me she did have experience with witches. I

doubted it was one like this, though.

I looked down at her for a moment, examining her like I found myself doing every time she was in my presence.

She was a rather short woman, the top of her head barely reaching my chest. But she was strong and willful, and

sharply intelligent.

I'd debated showing her the artifact for several days before I took her to the stones. Watching her hold it…

watching her feel what I felt every time I touched it–I hadn't been expecting that. Archer and Brandt had inspected

it before and thought it was nothing more than a chunk of gold that would fetch a high price.

Eliza had not only felt its darkness, but it had reacted to her touch, opening for her. I hadn't known it could do that,

and I'd been carrying it around since the day I was born.

There was no way in hell I was letting Aeris have her now. I needed her, especially if I wanted to live to see another

day after my twenty-fifth birthday.

“Stay here," I commanded as I pulled my shirt over my head, the chill of the early spring morning sending a ripple

of gooseflesh over my bare skin.

I doubted she could see me fully in the dim light, but I noticed she was eyeing the tattoos along my forearms and

chest as I stood to remove the rest of my clothes, save for my boxers, of course. She was still a lady, even if she

refused to act like one. I wasn't going to scandalize her, regardless of the circumstances.

“If," I began, crouching so I was looking into her eyes, “you're captured… don't eat the food she offers you."

“What?" she choked, shaking her head. “What do you–"

“Don't eat the food," I repeated. I held her gaze for a moment, noticing the sudden apprehension in her eyes, then

rose to my full height and backed out of the shelter of the low-lying trees and called to my wolf, praying silently that

the transformation would be easy, if not totally painless.

“Jared," she whispered, her voice lifted in what sounded like panic.

“I'm coming back for you," I said hoarsely, hiding the pain now ebbing through my body. “And… I'm not sorry for

what happened in my study."

“Neither am I," she said, and her eyes were the last thing I saw before it all went dark, and I let the beast within me

take hold, ripping me to shreds.

***

Archer was on his back, his mouth open and teeth on full display as a large creature loomed over him, jaw clacking

and spit flying with each shuddering breath it took. I caught up to him within minutes of leaving Eliza alone in the

woods against my better judgment, but it was the only option I had. Hellhounds were often extremely powerful

animals in their own right, but possessed by a witch's powers? They were practically unstoppable.

Eliza was right about it being a mountain lion. Archer was back on his feet by the time I darted back into our camp,

the lion stalking a wide circle around him. It was tired, tongue lolling as it moved without the usual grace of its

uncursed kind.

'Where the f**k is Brandt?' I said down the minklink.

'I have no f*****g idea. He went after the witch.'

Great, f*****g great… Brandt was likely dead, and this thing was going to kill us if it got its strength back. It was

injured, its muscled left shoulder oozing with blood the color of ink. I padded slowly after it, following its slow, deadly

circle while Archer regained his composure.

I'd never killed a Hellhound. I wasn't sure it was possible. Running from one, yes. That could be done while in the

form of a wolf, but we had Eliza to consider. The beast was walking all over our supplies, and Eliza was out there in

the woods with nothing but a dagger to protect her. We had to do something.

'Where's your girlfriend?' Archer said down the mindlink, walking in a painfully slow circle around the camp as we

herded the creature to the center of the clearing.

'She's not,' I replied hotly.

'Well… something was going on in that study–'

'Shut up,' I growled. 'Focus.'

I couldn't think about Eliza, not now, not when I was trying to focus all that remained of my dwindling powers on the

task at hand. Witches used Hellhounds, or familiars, as scouts. The witch could be anywhere, using her link with her

beast to keep an eye on us while she tried to locate what she was really after.

And for whatever reason, she had her sights on Eliza. We didn't have time to do this dance with her Hellhound any

longer.

The beast waivered, tripping over its own feet. Its shoulder was bleeding profusely as we continued our slow walk.

We were closing in on it, having worn it down significantly.

'Now!' I commanded down the mindlink, and Archer leaped for the beast, his jaws clamping down on the back of its

neck.

I went for its throat, and the two of us brought the beast down onto its side. Despite its fatigue and injury, it fought

back, thick claws running down the length of my side as I thrashed my jaws, breaking open its throat.

A screech that was shrill enough to burst my eardrums pierced the air as the creature died. I staggered backward,

my black coat wet and matted with blood. Pain ripped through me but I held firm in my stance, growling low as the

eyes of the beast went glassy.

'Go, go!' Brandt's voice screamed through the mindlink.

Archer and I barely had a moment to process his words before his wolf was upon us, bounding into the blood-

soaked clearing. He was covered in mud and sticks, his golden-brown fur unrecognizable. 'She's coming–"

A scream of pure agony erupted through the clearing as a bright light fell over us. A woman was standing in the

distance, her body distorted by the trees as she walked slowly forward, her arm outstretched. Her mouth was open,

teeth bared.

This was an exceptionally powerful witch… a dark one. She was the kind that the local witches didn't accept within

their ranks–wayward, banished, hungry.

'Eliza,' I said to the men, my eyes on the witch's mouth.

Rows and rows of short, sharpened teeth could be seen as she opened her mouth wide and screamed again, the

sound shaking the trees so violently the entire forest seemed to shiver.

'Where is she?' Archer replied, but I was already bounding through the woods toward where I'd hidden her.