"Hunters?" I scoffed before rubbing my forehead, "But she wasn't even a werewolf!" I lost focus for a moment while trying to gather my thoughts. I was sure she wasn't and even though it was confusing, there had to be something behind it.

"I know. She wasn't. I would have known if she was." King nodded and agreed with me. "But I suppose the hunters assumed she was a werewolf."

My brows collected and a frown settled over my features, "How do you know they were hunters? It could be anyone. Anyone could have shot her."

"The bullets, Eos." He reminded me.

"Have you seen them before?" I was curious, maybe more than I should have been but I had mixed feelings about it all. Why didn't King mention it to me earlier?

"Yes." He replied, after a long minute of void silence.

"Where?" I quickly asked, without taking a breath. The scent of my anticipation was strong in the air.

"When we were attacked, seven years ago." His body tensed and something, a sorrowful emotion washed over his face as he continued. "The bullets were the same when they were retrieved from the dead bodies. Later on, I had learned about the hunters and the family of hunters that blended in with the werewolves."

It hadn't been long since King mentioned to me hunters and his family. I still remembered his words from that night.

I prodded forward and asked, "Do you know who they are? Do—do you think they killed Aunt Carol?"

He turned to me and parted his lips to respond, "I'm not sure, Eos." A few seconds of silence passed by. "But the bullets were familiar. It could be possible but I don't want to give you any wrong kind of hope." His hand reached forward to take mine and I let his fingers curl around mine.

"It's okay," I whispered. "It's still something and it will probably help me in knowing what happened to her. I just want to figure who killed her while we were Barnsley."

"I know." He pressed his hand on my cheek and I closed my eyes.

A chill ran down my spine as I swallowed in the term hunters. Who were they? Where did they come from? What did they want? Did they kill my Aunt?

I pulled King's hand over to my lap and asked him the questions running in my head, "Can you tell me a bit more about hunters? Like who they are?"

"There isn't much I know but from what I had learned years ago, a family of hunters is settled nearby here. They hunt werewolves but not of all kind—they only hunt the ones that are strong or powerful in some way." King explained to me and I nodded, listening to his every word carefully like never before. "Although, it's just speculation that my family was hunted down by them because they were strong and it might have posed some threat to the hunters."

"But why would they only hunt your family and not the other werewolves?"

If they were actually a family of hunters living among us, shouldn't we be all running for our lives? Why weren't there more deaths? Not that I wanted any more.

"Power." Only one word was necessary. "They didn't just kill my parents, they hunted and killed every last one of my family except for me and Gabriella." He continued, his jaw clicking as anger rushed into his veins. "Gabriella was out of town during that time. She was studying in a different country."

"What about you?" I clenched his hand and grew concerned as I had never known what had happened with King during that time when the town was evacuated and his family was the only people left behind.

A sadistic smile lifted over his lips, "I was shot, five times by the same toxic bullets."

My jaw hung and I gasped, "But—how did you?"

"I didn't die, I just didn't." He shrugged. "I remained unconscious for a couple of hours. When I woke up, I was in terrible pain but managed to remove the bullets out. They weakened quite a lot but they weren't enough to kill me."

"And the rest of your family?"

"When I was shot, so was half of my family. They were all dead. There was no one left alive on that ground. Just me." His large, mournful eyes filled up with sorrow, and his voice became unsteady, weak. "That's when I learned I couldn't be killed."

"Is—is that possible?"

I believed in immortality but only to an extent. We all could be killed at some point or with something. Werewolves could live a long healthy life but they could be killed by something toxic or poisonous to their wolves.

He closed his eyes and rubbed the distance between his brows, "It wasn't supposed to be possible but it is. I think it must've something to do with my ancestors and my bloodline." He explained.

"So, you can't be killed? By anything?" I stared at him with wide eyes.

He laughed at my words, "Are you finding a way to kill me, pup?"

I shook my head and let out a little laugh, "No. I'm just shocked that someone can live forever."

"Well, if you don't get yourself killed, you can live forever as well. I have known tons of werewolves that have crossed hundreds and still continue to live." He said, racing his thumb over the back of my palm and feeling my veins throb.

I nodded and then my mind went back to the hunters. "Why do you think they wanted to kill your family? I mean—they didn't kill anyone else and if there are still out there, shouldn't there be more bodies? Why only attack a certain—"

"Bloodline." King finished whilst I tried to find the word.

"Yes!" It didn't make much of a sense.

His face twisted into an uncertain expression before he shrugged, "I never had the time or the energy to find out about the hunters or what did they want. As much as I can tell, if your parents were killed by the same hunters, there had to be some power misuse involved that threatened the hunters for the next werewolf generations to come." He let out a breath before continuing, "They probably don't attack the weaker wolves, just the one with power and position."

"My parents had a witch with them. Could that be a reason?" My tone was laced with curiosity.

"It could be." He rubbed his jaw while thinking hard. "Your parents might have posed some threat to them. Therefore, they were killed, only months after my entire family was wiped away. And since a witch buried your werewolf side, they must've thought you weren't a threat..."

"Until I went to Barnsley," I gasped before standing up from the seat and pacing around the room. It made sense. "I went to Barnsley. They must've had sniffed me out but they couldn't come for me because I was with you so they went after my Aunt Carol and they killed her!"

King stared at me, horror and confusion in his eyes. For a second, his eyes moved, sensing something that I couldn't sense.

I took a deep breath, understanding everything, "They are going to come for me." I whispered, rubbing the back of my neck.

King's jaw tightened and he slowly got up from the chair. His hand wrapped around my wrist and he moved his body in front of mine, shielding me from something.

"Run."

A loud voice of a gunshot echoed in my ears before the small, dark window at the corner of the kitchen shattered and the glass fell all over the floor.

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