Olivia’s Hunt - Ch 4
Copyright © 2025 Michelle Bolanger
The wolf inside me pushed at my skin. I still hadn’t completed my first shift, and She was pacing against the back of my mind. Somehow, despite her restless behavior, She soothed me. There were no words between us, not yet. I tilted my head to the wood beamed ceiling.
“She was supposed to help me understand, Lord.” I pulled the Chaplet through my fingers repeatedly. “Mom was supposed to be there when I talk to Her the first time. She was supposed to help me…” I trailed off, my mind no longer able to form words. As the sadness continued to wash over me, I kept expecting her to come through the door and wrap her arms around me. My mind knew she wasn’t coming back, but my body and heart couldn’t catch up.
The tears gradually subsided. When I looked down, my fingers were holding the mix of mom and dad’s grey and white stones. I stared at them, lightly streaked with blood from the scratches I’d broken open. Wiping them clean on my shirt, I placed the Chaplet back on my dresser top and glanced into the mirror leaning against the wall. Stringy and dirty, my hair was flat on one side and a tangled mess on the other. My stomach growled and churned, reminding me it had been two days since I’d eaten.
Sighing, I pulled open the drawers and took out a clean teeshirt and jeans. I draped them over my arm and snagged a towel from the hook beside the bathroom door.
The whole bathroom was open, and the ceiling was a large, thick slab of glass that made it feel like the room had no roof. The smooth stone tiles were cool under my feet as I toed out of my socks and undressed. In the floor length mirror, I cataloged all the scrapes and bruises I’d acquired on my way down the cliff. None were serious or overly painful, but I looked a wreck. Scratches criss crossed my legs and arms, while purple and yellow bruises dotted my shoulders, hips, and shins. From the look of it, I’d instinctively tucked into a ball, taking most of the abuse along my right side.
That was the hand that gripped mom’s paw. The one that let her slip away. I saw her terrified eyes as her nails scrabbled against the bare rock, seconds before the whole ledge gave way underneath us.
Refusing to collapse into tears again, I spun away from the mirror and twisted the shower controls. Steam filled the room as a powerful stream of hot water sluiced across my body. Resting my palms against the tiled wall, I let the water cascade around me, easing the ache in my muscles. I thoroughly scrubbed the dirt and leaf litter from my hair and skin as if cleaning it away would also wash away the horror of the last few days.
Shaking with hunger, I hastily raked a pick through my hair and twisted it, still wet, into a knot atop my head. Outside my bedroom, I could hear dad’s voice, talking to someone.
I paused, and froze when I recognized the deep timber as the man who’d grabbed my arm. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, and tiptoed to where my door was cracked open.
“Josey will be back in the spring. We can discuss it then.” I could see dad’s back. He sat at the dinning room table, leaning forward on his elbows. “She’ll know how to help her with this. Olivia is only seventeen. She needs time to grieve. I don’t want to push her before she’s ready. You have plenty of time to get to know each other.”
Blood pounded in my ears. Get to know who?
The rough voice was kind. “I don’t want to push her, Buck. I want her meet with Josey before we move forward. I saw her collapse at the cliff. I’m only here to let her know she can count on me if she needs anything.”
“Thank you, Mason.” Dad pushed his chair back and turned toward my door.
I jerked away from the opening and flattened myself to the wall. Mason? Who is Mason?
“Olivia?” Dad was outside my door, and it swung inward when he knocked. His eyes landed on me where I was still pressed to the wall. He stepped inside and pushed it closed behind him. “Are you alright?”
“Who is he, dad? Why is he here?” I knew I sounded panicked, but I didn’t care.
Dad rested a hand on my shoulder and pursed his lips. “He’s a…friend. You met him the night of the fall, but you probably don’t remember.”
I scooted away from him and crossed my arms. “He was there. Why?” The handsome man who had confronted me at the bottom of the hill was in my house and I didn’t like it. My wolf growled faintly. Apparently She didn’t like it either. “Who is he?”
Dad sighed and looked past me, his face creasing as his eyes landed on the pictures on my dresser. “Your mom asked him and his brother to be there.” When his gaze moved back to mine, I knew the answer. “She hoped that you and…” He shook his head. “She should be the one telling you this, not me.”
“He’s supposed to be my mate.” The air left the room as I stared at my dad’s conflicted face. “Lukas knew he would be there. He said I would meet my mate if the talisman chose me. Is he the…?”
“The Härskare?” He shook his head. “No. Hunter, his twin brother was the Chosen.”
I snapped my head back. “Was?”
Dad’s shoulders dropped and he nodded. “Hunter gave it up, went rogue years ago. Mason thinks he might have been there, but doesn’t know how or where he went.”
“Rogue?” I whispered, remembering the black wolf telling me he wasn’t a rogue. Was that Mason then? I stared at the door. “What is his last name?”
“Mason Rufus.”
“Rufus?” I shouted in surprise. That name was synonymous with illegal activity. Kellan Rufus was the shifter version of a mob boss. Before he was killed in a what amounted to a bar fight ten years ago, he was the ringleader of the dirty underside to our species. He dealt drugs that kept shifters in their animal bodies, organized pack fights, and there were even rumors he ran an underground fight club for shifters of all kinds. “The one who owns The Den?”
“Kellan, his father, owned it. Mason claims he never had anything to do with it. Says he didn’t know it existed until his father died.” He reached for the door knob, holding his other hand toward me. “Come out and meet him. He’s not what you think.”
I stared at his outstretched hand. “Can we do this later?” My voice was scratchy again. “I don’t think I can do this right now.”
He stepped close and cupped the back of my head, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Okay. I’ll tell him to come back after the burial.”
The word was like a fresh cut across my chest and I gripped his shirt, burying my face into his arm. I sucked in breaths, trying to hold myself together and eventually released him. “Thank you. I just can’t…”
“I know, baby girl.” He kissed my cheek and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
I slid to the floor and hugged my knees to my chest, listening to my father send Mason away.
“I’m staying in town.” Mason’s deep rumble sent a chill over my skin. “Call me if either of you need anything. I’m here to help, Buck, not cause problems.”
Their voices faded and both sets of footsteps crossed the room. I relaxed when the front door opened and with a few more muffled words it shut again. Dad’s steps paused outside my room, then continued past to his and mom’s. His door clicked shut and I rested my head against the wall behind me.
'Olivia’s Hunt' is unpublished and unedited. These stories may or may not be complete and may end on a cliffhanger. All works are the sole property of Michelle Bolanger and published through Risen Fiction. Copyright 2025 Michelle Bolanger. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be copied or reproduced without written consent from the author.