Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

MERCY

M ercy stood frozen in the dimly lit room, her back pressed against the cold stone wall where Hunter had just pinned her. Her heart was racing, not from fear, but from anger. Coward. The word echoed in her mind, ringing louder with each beat of her pulse. How dare he? Just because she hated vampires didn't mean she was running from something.

Mercy clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms as she glared at the empty doorway Hunter had just walked through. He was arrogant, infuriating—and wrong. She wasn't a coward. She didn't need anyone, least of all some undead vampire, thinking he knew her better than she knew herself.

But the problem was, despite her anger, his words had struck a nerve.

Her breath still felt uneven, her body still tingling where his hands had touched her. His skin hadn't been cold like she'd always imagined it would be—cold, dead, like the rest of his kind. No, Hunter's flesh had been surprisingly warm. His touch had ignited something inside her that she couldn't quite shake, and that made her even angrier. Vampires were supposed to be repulsive, their existence a mockery of life, and yet… Hunter felt alive. Far too alive.

Her thoughts drifted back to the feel of his body pressed against hers, his lips close to her ear as he whispered those infuriating truths. She'd felt the heat of his body, the solid strength of him, and it had made her curious. Too curious.

Mercy shook her head, trying to dispel the feeling, but it lingered. She didn't want to think about Hunter like that. She wanted to hate him, despise him for what he was. But the truth gnawed at her. She didn't feel disgusted when he touched her. She didn't feel revulsion when she looked into his eyes. She felt… curious.

Cursing herself, Mercy pushed off the wall and stalked across the room. She had to know. Her feet moved before her brain could stop her, and before she knew it, she was standing in front of him again. Hunter had barely taken a few steps down the hall when she caught up with him. He turned, his dark, amused eyes locking onto hers as if he'd known she would come after him.

Without a word, Mercy reached out and placed her hand on his chest, her fingers tracing the line of his collarbone. She wasn't sure what she expected to feel—coldness, maybe, or the hardness of a dead thing—but instead, his skin was warm, almost human.

Hunter didn't move, didn't speak, but there was something in his gaze, a flicker of curiosity or perhaps amusement. Mercy ignored it, her hand traveling lower until her palm rested just over where his beating heart should be. She waited, closing her eyes, focusing on the sensation of his body beneath her hand.

Nothing. No heartbeat.

Her brow furrowed as she opened her eyes, glancing up at him. "How does this work?" she asked, her voice soft, barely above a whisper. "How are you… this?" She gestured vaguely to his body, his warmth, the fact that despite having no heartbeat, he felt alive.

Hunter's lips twitched into a small smile, and he looked down at her, his amusement clear. "Curious, aren't you?"

Mercy frowned but didn't pull her hand away. "I'm trying to understand. You feel… warm. Alive. But you're not."

"Technically," Hunter replied, his voice taking on that smooth, infuriatingly calm tone he always seemed to use around her, "I'm not alive in the human sense. But my body still functions in certain ways. Blood flows through my veins, but my heart doesn't beat like yours. It's more… magic, I suppose you could say. I don't need to breathe, but I can. I don't need to eat, but I still can."

Mercy's eyes narrowed. "So, you're basically a walking corpse with benefits."

Hunter laughed softly, shaking his head. "If that's how you want to see it. But I think you're underestimating just how useful those ‘benefits' can be."

Mercy opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, Hunter's hand lifted, gently tilting her chin upward. His gaze softened, something more serious lurking beneath the teasing surface. "You know what I am," he said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper. "You've always known."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she cursed herself for the weakness in her knees. His closeness was doing things to her she didn't want to admit, and for a moment, she couldn't find the words to respond. She hated that he was right—somewhere, deep down, she had known what he was. She'd felt it the moment their eyes had locked on that cliff.

But that didn't mean she wanted this. Didn't mean she wanted him.

Mercy scoffed, but it was weak. "I know what you are," she muttered, pushing his hand away from her chin. "But that doesn't mean I want anything to do with it."

Hunter's lips curved into that same slow, knowing smile, but this time, he didn't press further. He leaned in once more, brushing his lips lightly against hers in a way that sent a jolt of electricity through her body. It was barely a kiss, but it was enough to remind her that despite all her protests, she was drawn to him.

And she hated it.

With a surge of willpower, Mercy pushed against his chest, finally finding the strength to put some distance between them. She stepped back, her breath unsteady, her pulse racing in her ears. "This doesn't change anything," she said, her voice hardening again as she turned on her heel and made for the door. "I'll help you— or you can help me. But that's it. I'm not tying myself to a vampire."

Hunter chuckled softly behind her as she stepped into the doorway. "Tying you up might be fun. We'll see," he called after her, his voice filled with amusement.

Somehow, his words sounded more like a threat than any kind of reassurance. And with those words, he was gone, leaving her standing there in the hallway like some kind of lovesick schoolgirl.

Mercy clenched her fists, took a deep breath, and then continued down the hall, her emotions a tangled mess. She hated him. She hated how he made her feel—how he made her question everything she thought she knew. She wasn't supposed to feel anything for him. And yet…

Damn it , she thought, her fists clenching at her sides. What the hell just happened?

She didn't want this. She didn't want him. But as she stood there, trying to gather herself, Mercy knew, deep down, that things had just gotten far more complicated than she'd ever anticipated.

Shaking her head, Mercy made her way down the hall, heading toward the one person she knew would help clear her mind. Adriana.

Adriana had been the only person Mercy had ever trusted with the full extent of her abilities. It was Adriana who had first identified the trace of a witch in Mercy's bloodline, the small but potent magic that had been passed down through her family for generations. It wasn't much—just enough to enhance Mercy's natural shifter abilities, to give her an edge when it came to sensing the supernatural—but Adriana had insisted there might be more. She had been fascinated by Mercy's gift, and the two of them had met regularly to practice controlling and honing it.

As Mercy walked into the chambers Adriana shared with her mates, Greg and Decker, she felt a sense of calm wash over her. The smell of herbs and incense filled the air, and Adriana was already waiting, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room, a small fire crackling in the hearth.

"Rough day?" Adriana asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked up from the book she'd been reading.

"You could say that," Mercy muttered, sinking into the chair opposite her. She wasn't ready to get into the whole Hunter situation just yet. Not until she had a clearer head.

Adriana gave her a knowing look but didn't push. Instead, she closed her book and set it aside, focusing on Mercy with her usual calm intensity. "What's on your mind?"

Mercy hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Hunter. He's the falcon-shifter I told you about. Turns out he's a vampire as well."

Adriana's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Interesting. He's also the fated mate you're trying very hard to ignore."

Mercy groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Don't remind me. It's bad enough I have to deal with him in my head, let alone in person."

Adriana chuckled softly; her gaze sympathetic. "Well, there's no fighting fate. You know that."

Mercy shot her a glare. "I don't believe in fate."

"Sure, you don't," Adriana replied, amusement still dancing in her eyes. "But you wouldn't be here if you didn't believe there was some truth to it."

Mercy sighed, leaning back in her chair. She wasn't ready to admit it yet, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something bigger than herself was at play. There was a reason she had crossed paths with Hunter, a reason their fates had become entangled.

But that didn't mean she had to like it.

"I'm here because I need to focus," Mercy said, changing the subject. "We have a mystery to solve, and I need your help."

Adriana's expression turned serious as she leaned forward, her interest piqued. "The fae-wolf shifter?"

Mercy nodded. "Yes. Hunter and I are trying to figure out why she's here, topside. It doesn't make sense. The fae stick to their own realm. There's no reason for her to be out here, especially in the state we found her."

Adriana's brow furrowed. "A fae-shifter, out in the human world… That's definitely unusual. What do you need from me?"

Mercy hesitated for a moment, then said, "We need to wake her up. Greg says there's nothing physically wrong with her, but she won't wake up. It has to be magic."

Adriana considered this for a moment, then nodded. "It's possible. Fae magic is tricky, especially when it's intertwined with shifter abilities. I can try to help, but there are no guarantees. Fae magic is… unpredictable, even for me."

"I'll take whatever help I can get," Mercy said, her voice firm.

Adriana smiled, her expression softening. "All right, then. Let's get to work."

The two women spent the next few hours working together, Adriana guiding Mercy through various exercises designed to help her control her magic. They had been doing this for months now, ever since Adriana had first discovered the trace of a witch in Mercy's bloodline. Mercy had always been able to sense the supernatural, but Adriana had helped her tap into that ability more deeply, teaching her how to focus it, control it.

Tonight, though, Mercy's mind kept drifting back to Hunter, no matter how hard she tried to stay focused on her magic. His touch, his words, the way he seemed to know exactly how to push her buttons—it all lingered in her mind, distracting her.

"You're not concentrating," Adriana said after a while, her voice gentle but firm.

Mercy huffed, frustrated with herself. "I'm trying."

Adriana gave her a sympathetic look. "You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

Mercy groaned, covering her face with her hands. "I don't want to be. He's… he's infuriating."

Adriana chuckled softly. "Vampires do have a way of getting under your skin."

"It's not just that," Mercy muttered, lowering her hands. "It's… everything. The fae, the mystery of why she's here, some witch and vampire duo who are up to something, and now Hunter on top of it all. I don't know how to deal with any of this."

Adriana reached out, placing a hand on Mercy's arm. "You don't have to deal with it alone, you know. I'm here, as are the rest of the Shadow Sisters and everyone here at the abbey. And whether you want to admit it or not, Hunter is, too."

Mercy sighed, nodding reluctantly. She knew Adriana was right, but that didn't make it any easier.

"Let's focus on one thing at a time," Adriana said, her voice calm and reassuring. "First, we figure out what's going on with the fae. Then we can worry about everything else."

Mercy nodded, taking a deep breath. "Right. One thing at a time."

They continued their practice for a while longer, and by the time they finished, Mercy felt more centered, more in control of herself. But even as she left the abbey and made her way home, the thought of Hunter lingered in the back of her mind.

She had agreed to help him—reluctantly, yes, but she had agreed. And now, she couldn't shake the feeling that their partnership, however temporary, was going to complicate things far more than she'd ever anticipated.