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She went very still. I pleaded with God to keep her with me. Pressed her palm harder against my chest.

Only I had the experience here. Only I could see the wider view. I took a deep breath and chose my words carefully—to reassure. ‘Grace… What we have, I’ve never experienced before. My prior intimacies pale in comparison—and I don’t say that lightly. They were dark, and sometimes selfish. But even the pleasant unions were… hollow. Now? I’d never wish to try our ways with another. I love the hunt, but it’s a vehicle. An expression. Not my love for you—I only ever want to give you pleasure. To adventure with you. If… if I have hurt you… if you won’t enjoy it—’

‘No! I do! I did… I only wonder… is this what you want? Have you been holding back to… to build towards this?’

I physically flinched, simultaneously understanding the question—it was valid, and insightful—and abhorring it. I shook my head vehemently, and never broke eye contact, cursing the dark that kept our gazes shrouded.

‘Be certain, Grace: I haven’t hidden some darker motive in my nature from you. I’m not trying to mold you into anything you haven’t yet seen. What we’ve shared is precisely what thrills me—and with you it holds depth and facets I’ve never explored before. I can’t deny that desire has to have been seeded in these years when, for me, the practice was dark. But that ritual is so far removed from what you and I enjoyed together. That was ambition and power. Our nights are… unions.

‘I want you to be certain: I do not revel in your pain—and I never will. I would happily never hunt you again if it feels too close, or risky. If it frightens you. You have my word. What I want is you. Us, together. If I’ve hurt you by introducing you to that, or if it hurts you to hear it now… forgive me. Please. When I’m with you, everything is different. Better. Purer and deeper and… it’s all I’ve ever wanted, and never found with another.’

She stared at me for a long moment, then lifted her hands to my wrists, but didn’t pull my hands away. ‘I like your ways, Voski,’ she ventured after a moment, though the tension hadn’t gone from her. ‘You haven’t hurt me. You’ve… excited me. As long as you don’t want to—’

‘No,’ I sent emphatically. ‘What I tell you—this story, this ritual is the furthest thing from what I want to share with you. I never want to cause you pain. Only pleasure. Do you believe me?’

Her lips pulled up and her grip on my wrists tightened as she nodded. “I do,” she murmured.

I kissed her quickly, aching inside, thanking God for a mate who was so willing to trust me and forgive—but when I pulled back, her expression saddened quickly. ‘That’s not what you were doing then, though? This ritual… you were hurting each other?’

I nodded reluctantly, wishing there was no need to tell her more of this story. But it was about so much more than that awful rite. So, I stroked her beautiful cheek as I took a deep breath and braced myself to share the events of that awful night.

The First Hunt

~ VOSKI ~

Men rose through the ranks of Cruor circles by proving their strength and dominance over others. While the women increased power by attracting and holding the right men—or developing power that stopped men from claiming them at all. There were many ways for a Cruor to prove their strength and step over others. A hunt was only one.

But, a Cruor Hunt was far more than a simple thrill. It was a rite. A tradition. And a way the ranks could be refined. When a powerful man within the Fold had something to prove—or sought a prize that belonged to another—a hunt was called to avoid chaos descending as powerful men and women simply took what they desired with no oversight.

When the Circle sought greater power, or there was a conflict that required a winner, a hunt was called. And unless a direct challenge had been issued for hierarchy, every able-bodied Cruor male present could hunt. And any female who sought to improve her rank by virtue of Pairing with a powerful man, could lay a trail with the hope of being captured and claimed. The powerful among the women simply killed any man who tried to lay claim when they didn’t desire him.

Cali didn’t want to be claimed by anyone except me, but her parents were unaware of our relationship and wanted rank for her. She wouldn’t be given a choice, except to run, hide, and fight off any man she didn’t want. Unless I could be there to claim her. Which she believed wasn’t possible. She spent the nights before the hunt clinging to me, telling me over and over her plan to hide—a spot we both knew—and how she’d make certain no one found her.

I wanted to tell her, wanted to reassure her she had nothing to fear. That I would find her, claim her—she’d never have to worry about this again. But I couldn’t. My parents said the only way they’d give me permission was to keep it utterly secret until the ritual began, so no one could raise support for a protest.

So, I held her, and heard her, and mentally noted everything she’d told me about where she’d hide, and how to find her.

My anticipation was so keen, by the night of the hunt my blood pulsed with power. I’d been so focused in the days of the lead-up, so certain of my purpose—and so ready to protect her—I’d thought of nothing else.

Most of the men who walked into the ritual sought prey to spill blood and thus gain power. But, where two competed for rank, whoever won the greatest prize would take the higher seat.

The sickest among them hunted for nothing but the thrill, and cared for nothing but to hunt a human being. Even I shivered at the shadows in their eyes. Only God could help the prey captured by those men.

But any with an interest in the prize at the center of the call would compete to win it. In this case, two men of marrying age both sought the hand of one woman. All were of the old blood. And all only a handful of years older than me. It was the most common reason to call a hunt, though any Cruor could challenge any other—at any level of rank. And the results would be reflected in the hierarchy following the rite.

Power would rise and fall that night. And none of them knew I would take my place in the Circle for the very first time.

I shook with excitement.

I’d never taken pleasure in killing for killing’s sake. But the pursuit of power seduced me. While the thrill of making men submit was intoxicating, I wasn’t a sadist as some of the Cruors were. So, I hadn’t been in any hurry to attend a hunt until Cali was called in.

One half-hour before the hunt began, the prey and the women were released. Always fewer targets than there were hunters—for how could a man prove dominance unless he was forced to compete?

The protests in the ranks when I was brought into the circle were sharp, and shocked—but quiet. My parents stared the highest among them down until the disruption stopped.

Just as my mother had anticipated, with no time to organize allies, no one was willing to challenge my father, the Dominus. No one was prepared for that fight.

My parents had been right not to give them time to grow their courage.