The Alpha's Hunter Mate

Scarlet’s POV

I had always known my destiny. Raised by hunters, I was taught from a young age that werewolves were the enemy. My earliest memories are filled with the clang of weapons, the scent of steel, and the stern, weathered faces of the hunters who had trained me. They had instilled in me a sense of duty, a fierce loyalty to their cause. I was one of them—a protector of humanity, a slayer of beasts, more precisely, werewolves.

My childhood had been anything but ordinary. While other children played in the safety of their homes, I learnt to track creatures through dense forests, to move silently under cover of night, and to strike with deadly precision. The hunters had taken me in when I was just a baby. 

I have become one of the best—sharp, swift, and utterly fearless. My reputation had spread among the hunter clans and even among the werewolves. They called me “the Arrow,” a nickname that spoke to the bloodshed I had wrought among their kind. I took pride in the fear my name inspired. 

But for all my strength, I have never been one to take joy in killing. I saw it as a necessity, a duty, nothing more. There was never any fulfilment from killing for me. Yet, there was always a part of me that longed for something more, something beyond the endless cycle of violence and death. Something that would give me all-round peace.

It was that longing that led me into the heart of the forest that fateful day.

The hunt had started like any other. I had been tracking a lone wolf, a rogue terrorising a nearby village. I followed its trail through the dense underbrush, my senses sharp and alert. But as I ventured deeper into the forest, something began to change. The trees grew taller, their trunks thicker, and the air became calm and fragrant, filled with pine and earth. The sun filtered through the leaves, casting golden beams of light that danced on the forest floor.

I slowed my pace, glancing around in awe. This part of the forest was unlike anything I had ever seen. The beauty of it took my breath away. It was wild, untamed, and yet there was a sense of peace here that I couldn’t quite explain. The rogue wolf’s trail had vanished, but I found myself unwilling to turn back. Something about this place called to me, whispered to me to keep going.

I moved forward, each step careful and measured, my senses on high alert. The silence was almost eerie, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant call of a bird. And then I felt a shift in the air, a presence that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

I wasn’t alone.

My hand went to my arrow, my instincts kicking in. I turned slowly, scanning the trees, my heart pounding. And then I saw him.

He stepped out from the shadows as if he had been born from them, his movements fluid and graceful. He was tall, towering over me, his body corded with muscle. His hair was as dark as midnight, falling in unruly waves around a face that was both handsome and fierce. But it was his eyes that held me captive: amber, glowing with a light that was both mesmerizing and dangerous.

My breath caught in my throat. I knew instantly who he was. Caden, the Alpha of Alphas, the most powerful werewolf in existence. The hunters had spoken of him in hushed tones, warning me of his strength, his ruthlessness. He was a legend, a force of nature, and he was standing right in front of me.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was deep and commanding, with a hint of curiosity that surprised me.

I swallowed, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Caden’s lips curled into a slight smile, but there was no warmth in it. “You’re in my territory. It’s not wise to stray so far. What are you doing on my territory?”

I tightened my grip on my arrow, my mind racing. I had heard stories of werewolves, their speed, their strength. I knew that I would be outmatched if it came to a fight. But I wasn’t one to back down, especially not in the face of danger.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I said, my voice steady despite the rapid beat of her heart.

Caden took a step closer, and I fought the urge to retreat. He was too close, his presence overwhelming, but I refused to show weakness. 

“You should be as you're on my land,” he murmured, his eyes narrowing. 

My jaw clenched. “I didn’t come here looking for trouble.”

“Then why are you here?” Caden asked, tilting his head slightly as if genuinely curious.

I hesitated. I could tell him the truth that I had been hunting a rogue and had accidentally stumbled into this place. But something told me that would be a mistake. This was his domain, his territory, and I was the intruder.

“I was… exploring,” I said carefully, watching his reaction.

Caden raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Exploring,” he repeated, his tone skeptical. “In a forest where you know the wolves rule?”

I bristled at his tone. “I didn’t know this was your territory. If I had, I wouldn’t have come here.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Caden’s eyes gleamed with something that made my stomach twist. “You seem like the type who enjoys a challenge.”

I didn’t respond, but my silence spoke volumes. I had faced down countless werewolves, had fought my way through more battles than I could count. But this was different. There was something about this encounter that felt charged, like the air before a storm.

Caden took another step forward, and I instinctively stepped back, my heart racing. 

He stopped, his expression unreadable. “...Sh*t!”

I raised my eyebrows and notice his eyes glow a bright yellow, which indicated his wolf was at bay. I aimed my arrow at him, watching him with care. 

“Mate!” 

Scarlet’s POV

The forest was alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures—owls hooting in the distance, the rustle of leaves as small animals scurried through the underbrush. But amidst all this, one sound reigned supreme—the steady, rhythmic heartbeat of the Alpha of Alphas.

I moved silently through the forest, my senses attuned to every shift in the wind, every movement in the shadows. The pack was resting, secure in their territory, but as Alpha, I was always vigilant, always aware. It was a responsibility I had carried since I was a child, a burden that had shaped me into the powerful leader I was today.

I became an Alpha at the tender age of eight, a rare feat even among werewolves. My father, the previous Alpha, had been killed in a brutal battle with a rival pack, leaving me to step into his place. It had been a trial by fire that had forged me into a fierce and unyielding leader. The weight of my father’s legacy was heavy, but I rose