Hunters' Shadow (Book one of the Hunter Chronicles)

Chapter Sixty One

Marcus nodded stiffly and stalked away.

“Want me to keep an eye on him?” Alex asked, handing the incriminating photo's back to his Alpha.

Blake watched his Beta disappear into the forest with worried eyes. “No, head up to Sweet William and make sure our new prisoner doesn't wander off unexpectedly.” He turned to scrutinise his Gamma. “You’re taking this remarkably calmly,” he observed.

The beleaguered look returned to Alex's eyes. “I carried a dead child in my arms today,” he revealed. “That sort of thing changes your perception of things a little.” One hand swiped at the stray locks of blond hair that fell into his eyes, and he shrugged. “His fate is sealed. I'm sure I can restrain myself until then.” He turned his gaze towards the steep trail leading to Sweet William and grimaced. “Do we have to do this inside the cave?”

Blake nodded. “Just us, the witnesses and the guards.” Less chance that the trial could be invalidated by outside interference.

Alex sighed heavily and as he ran towards the embankment, poised to change forms, Blake caught his final complaint as it drifted back to him on the winds...

“I hate caves.”

*

The warrior was seasoned – Liam, one of James's patrol. Blake knew him to be a good fighter, but had never had the opportunity to train with him one on one. As a result of the enmity between the two clashing wolves, none of James's warriors had ever run alongside Simon's before either.

He hovered near the entrance to the cave, clearly as uncomfortable with the tight space as his Gamma, his eyes bright with interest as he glanced frequently at the huddled figure near the alter.

The socialite was a face Blake knew only too well. Eric Cartwright, Angela's father. It had been a surprise to all of them when he'd volunteered as a relief for the injured warriors, but he seemed resolutely determined to prove his worth.

He strayed towards the back of the small cave, and after one, startled glance at Simon's dishevelled form, he turned his back, his face registering a faint expression of disgust as his eyes traced the painted story on the walls.

Rothan uttered a low rumble of approval. Both were strong witnesses with no compelling personal connection to either Simon or the Alpha.

He didn't recognise the Omega. “What's your name?” Blake asked.

“Adrian, Alpha,” the young Omega stammered. Judging by his nervous disposition, the young wolf wasn't used to being in such close proximity to his Alpha. All the better. He stood alone in the centre of the cave, a lack of confidence preventing him from approaching the higher-ranking wolves. “I work the packs.”

Blake nodded. The boy was a carrier, among other things, tasked with organising and lugging the supplies carried with them during excursions like this one. The Alpha's face softened as he realised how daunting the situation must be for the lowest ranked wolf in the cave. “Do you know this man?” He gestured towards the prisoner.

“Only by name, Alpha. I don't live in the main village. Don't work there either.”

Blake nodded again, inwardly proud of his Beta. Despite his personal hatred, he'd carefully selected an entirely neutral group of witnesses.

Finally, he turned to his prisoner, wretched in his defeat. There had been no fight. No attempt to flee. Simon had taken one look at the photos and walked quietly into arms of the waiting warriors with the bearing of a man who knows his time has run out.

He blanched when he caught his Alpha’s expression. The fire in Blake's eyes burned with unquenchable intensity, his merciless gaze bearing down on him with all the power of an Alpha's fury.