(Daisy's POV)

At the last critical moment, Bella appeared just in time, gripping my arm and pulling me to safety. With that, the grand revelry of the elites officially began.

Including us, there were more than a dozen participants, separated into three teams. Since Bella and I were brought here by Lincoln, we were assigned to his group. This arrangement evidently did not sit well with some of its members. To them, women would only slow their pace in the hunt, especially someone like me, whose wolf had been unconscious for years.

One of them, without any effort to temper his irritation, grumbled openly, "Lincoln, let's hope your wife and her friend don't end up dragging us all down."

Lincoln shot a glare at Bella, muttering irritably under his breath, "I told you not to come, but you had to insist. Now look! You're just embarrassing yourself."

Bella bit her lip, her expression momentarily shadowed by discomfort. Thankfully, the sharp crack of a gunshot sliced through the evening air at that time. The hunt had begun.

The men shifted into wolves, their figures streaking into the dense forest like arrows released from taut bows. Howls echoed all around, rapidly layering over one another beneath the rustling canopy. Even Bella couldn't suppress her excitement, shouting with renewed energy.

"Darling! It's time!" She patted my shoulder and encouraged me, "Show those arrogant bastards what you're made of! I'll be waiting for you at the finish line."

With those words, she shifted. Her wolf released a ferocious howl, barreling forward into the trees.

A deep ache momentarily unfurled in my chest as I stared at her wold's retreating figure. My wolf had been dormant since I suffered a grievous injury at the age of thirteen. I hadn't even been able to name her.

But soon, I pulled myself together. This wasn't the time to wallow in despair. If I wanted Andrew's help, I had to prove my worth first.

I reached for the bow. It was an antiquated weapon, one only a rare few used anymore. Modern wolves had long abandoned such tools, relegating them to ceremonial roles in events like this, where showcasing one's hunting prowess came second to symbolism.

Medicine might have been my craft, but archery was my true forte.

I clenched the handle firmly and stepped into the treeline, every sense alert to the foreign terrain enveloping me. My gaze flitted across each shadowy patch ahead.

Just then, there was a faint rustle of movement in the grass behind me.

Eyes narrowing, I whirled and loosed an arrow.

The shaft sliced cleanly through the air, lodging deep within the undergrowth. The trembling feathers protruding from the thicket confirmed that I'd hit my mark.

Pulling apart the foliage, I discovered the unmistakable form of a wild rabbit limping against the ground. I grabbed it by the ears and tossed it into my basket.

For the next two hours, my basket steadily filled with small prizes. Though they were not the grandest of prey, I was pleased with my modest haul. As the contest neared its conclusion, I decided to shift my focus to something larger and make a proper end to my hunt here.

And then the atmosphere shifted.

A guttural roar rumbled through the air. A massive black bear was pushing aside a thicket and stepping forward with deliberate menace.

At its side ambled a cub, and my blood ran cold.

It was a mother bear. Its ferocity eclipsed that of any ordinary bear. Alone, I had no chance against it.

Without a second thought, I spun around to bolt, but right then, the black bear lunged straight at me.

My breathing stalled in my chest. I dived to the side just in time, narrowly evading its swipe, but its claws raked across my arm.

The scent of my blood sent the bear into a frenzy. It let out a bone-shaking roar and charged again.

I barely had time to flinch before squeezing my eyes shut, bracing for the pending doom.

But then—

A fierce, commanding howl split the air.

No teeth sank into me. No claws ripped me apart.

Heart hammering, I cracked my eyes open and froze.

A massive black wolf stood between me and death, muscles coiled as it held the bear at bay.

The wolf was relentless, every strike precise. Within moments, the towering bear faltered, forced into retreat. Taking advantage of the chaos, I retrieved my fallen bow and eyed the bear's head, releasing the taut string.

Swoosh! It struck true, embedding itself deep into the bear's skull. The creature collapsed, kicking the bucket on the forest floor.

The cub jerked into motion, darting frantically into the shadows until it vanished from sight.

I let out a sigh of relief, feeling weak as I collapsed to the ground. For a fleeting moment, I thought I might die.

The black wolf padded toward me and lowered its head to nudge my cheek. To my surprise, it wagged its tail as if it was really joyful.

Feeling grateful, I reached out to stroke its head. Just as I was about to say thank you, the wolf let out a displeased growl, together with a sharp, familiar glare.

My hand froze mid-air, hovering over the black wolf's fur as a wild thought hit me. Was this Andrew's wolf?

Just after the wolf turned away, Andrew emerged from behind a tree, his dark expression clouded with irritation, as though he was mad with what had happened earlier.

Sure enough, that was his wolf.

A wave of unease lapped at my chest. It was weird. How could Andrew's wolf be so nice to me? "I'm sorry," I blurted out, fumbling to explain. "I didn't realize it was your wolf."

Andrew sneered. "You don't seem as weak as I thought," he remarked in a surprised tone, his gaze flickering briefly to the slain bear.

"Your wolf deserves all the credit," I replied, lowering my head humbly.

He seemed disinclined to pursue that line of discussion any further. Closing the distance between us, he loomed over me. His intimidating presence sent warning sparks up my spine. Backing away instinctively, I bumped into the rough bark of a tree, trapping myself under his shadow.

"Miss Daisy," he murmured, his hand rising to brush against my cheek with a kind of tenderness as if we were mates. "Shall we return to our earlier conversation? Have you made up your mind yet?"

My breathing turned shallow. Avoiding meeting his piercing eyes, I voiced the plea I'd carried all this way.

"Mr. Andrew," I whispered, "I'm here because I need your help. My father's innocent."

He paused, fixing his deep, unfathomable eyes on me. Suddenly, a devilish smirk crept upon his face. "You truly want to save your father, don't you?" he asked, his tone almost playful.

Desperation burned hot in my chest as I nodded vigorously, eager for his response.

The clock is ticking on my dad's life. I didn't have much time left. I'd do anything to save him, whatever it took.

"Then—" Andrew's fingers trailed down slowly, from my throat to the curve of my breast, his touch practiced. With his teasing squeezes, my body already betrayed me, melting under his hands.

His thumb brushed over my nipple, then slid lower, tracing a path toward my most private part. A low, suggestive chuckle escaped him. "Miss Daisy," he murmured, "how far are you really willing to go?"

"For instance," he drawled, staring down at me with a look that pinned me in place, "making love with me right here. What do you say?"