The Hunter's Daughter

Running through the woods, I wasn’t wearing shoes. My feet were torn up, bleeding with every step. I looked back—the beast was right behind me. A massive werewolf, teeth bared, blood dripping from its mouth, pieces of flesh falling as it ran. It lunged, slamming into me, pinning me beneath it. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst—

My alarm went off.

I shot upright, gasping. Just a nightmare.

Another one.

I had them every night for as long as I could remember. Always different. Always something hunting me. I rubbed my eyes and shut off the alarm, trying to slow my breathing. My room was still cluttered with boxes. We’d moved into this house two days ago, and now I had school—my fifth high school. Senior year. I couldn’t wait for it to be over. College meant freedom. My parents, though, were determined to keep me close. Humans were becoming rare, and apparently that meant I was supposed to be betrothed to some idiot. No thanks. I wasn’t about to turn into someone’s baby machine. If humans were going extinct, then that was it.

I finished breakfast alone. My mom had left a note on the counter: We’ll see you at dinner. Here’s lunch money. Have a great day at school! Love Mom! They were never home. My parents were hunters. Once, hunters wiped out supernaturals. Now they only took contracts on the dangerous ones. It was still enough to keep us moving constantly.

Back in my room, I pulled on jeans and a white tank top. I didn’t bother with a bra—I didn’t have much use for one anyway. After brushing my teeth, I stared at myself in the mirror for a second. “You’ve got this,” I muttered. I ran a brush through my hair, added a little mascara, then grabbed my bike keys and headed downstairs. Boots on, leather jacket zipped, backpack slung over my shoulder. The garage didn’t have a remote—of course it didn’t. My dad said he’d fix it, but I wasn’t counting on it. I rolled my bike out, locked up behind me, and slid my helmet on. The engine purred to life beneath me. I loved that feeling—the power, the control. It grounded me.

The school parking lot was packed. I parked near the back, close to the gate, locked my helmet to the bike, and headed inside. The moment I walked in, I felt it—eyes on me. Werewolves, vampires, witches… even ogres and trolls. Great. I wondered if there were any other humans.

“I’m here for my schedule.”

“Alice?” the gargoyle behind the desk asked.

“That’s me.”

She handed me my schedule, a PE uniform, and a stack of books. “Your locker number and combination are on this sheet. Let us know if you need anything else.”

I found my locker, shoved everything inside, then checked my schedule. English, Calculus, PE, Supernatural History, Human History, and Art. I packed what I needed and closed the door—only to notice a group of guys staring at me. Not vampires—too much color. Werewolves. They were good-looking, sure, but I didn’t give them more than a glance.

“Hey, I’m Katie,” a small girl said, stepping up beside me. Blond hair, brown eyes, oversized backpack. Human.

“I’m Alice. Nice to meet you.”

“Can I see your schedule?”

I handed it over. She lit up, pointing out we had a few classes together. Then she leaned closer, lowering her voice like she was letting me in on a secret. There were only ten humans in the entire school—and we were the only girls. The rest were boys. She started filling me in on everything, barely pausing for breath. A big guy walked up and wrapped an arm around her.

“I’m Davis,” he said. Human. Solid build, wavy brown hair, easy confidence.

More guys joined us—his friends. I glanced back at the werewolves still watching.

“Yeah, they like new girls,” Davis said. “That’s Bentley in the middle—Alpha. Jace, Zack on the left, then Keith and Kevin—the twins.”

“I’m not interested,” I said flatly. “I don’t date.”

The bell rang, and Katie grabbed my arm, pulling me toward English. I couldn’t help it—I glanced back once more.

Bentley was already looking at me.

And he smiled.

We took seats in the back. Bentley and the twins were in this class. He sat up front but sideways in his chair, like the room existed around him, not the other way around. His eyes stayed on me. Our teacher, Mr. Jones, was a werewolf too—tall, broad, a deep scar along his neck that somehow made him more attractive. Brown curls, piercing blue eyes, suit fitted perfectly to his frame. I opened my book, forcing myself to focus. Around supernaturals, control mattered. They could pick up on everything—heartbeat, scent, shifts in emotion. Humans were too easy to read.

Not me.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

I’d been told before I was hard to read. I intended to keep it that way.

The classroom door burst open. A girl rushed in, late. Mr. Jones gave her a sharp look, but she ignored it, sliding into the seat behind Bentley. He leaned back without hesitation and kissed her. She wasn’t a werewolf—she was a witch. The flowers in her hair gave it away, along with the dark tips of her fingers. He pulled back, then looked past her.

At me.

She followed his gaze, her expression hardening instantly. Her hand snapped up, grabbing his chin and turning his face back to hers.

Mr. Jones continued talking, laying out expectations for the year, but I barely registered it. I hadn’t even noticed Keith had taken the seat next to me.

“Sooo,” he said, leaning in slightly, “you don’t date, huh? What do you do?”

I didn’t look at him.

“I like to fuck around,” I said, completely straight-faced.

Silence.

Then I glanced over just enough to see his reaction—his mouth hanging open.

The bell rang.

Perfect timing.

I slid my book into my bag, stood up, and walked out without another word.