My Adoptive Family Raised Me To Hunt Monsters — Then I Turned Into One On My 18th Birthday

Part 1

I stared at the silver dagger resting heavily in my palms.

Tonight was supposed to be the most important night of my life.

It was my eighteenth birthday.

It was also the night I was ordered to commit my first assassination.

The Millers had taken me in when I was just a helpless infant.

They raised me with strict discipline, harsh words, and an iron will.

We were a family of elite hunters, operating in the shadows.

Our entire purpose was to eliminate the beasts that terrorized humanity.

I wanted nothing more than to make Uncle Craig proud.

He had trained me himself, pushing me past my breaking point every single day.

This mission was his ultimate test for me.

The Alpha King was hosting a grand ball at his sprawling estate.

I was expected to infiltrate the party, locate the king, and end his reign.

I slipped into a dark evening gown that cleverly concealed the weapons strapped to my thighs.

The drive to the estate was suffocatingly quiet.

Brian rode in the passenger seat, sharpening a blade with methodical precision.

He had been my closest friend and sparring partner for as long as I could remember.

“Stay sharp in there,” Brian murmured as he pulled the car to a stop near the wrought-iron gates.

I nodded, slipping out into the cool, damp night air.

The ballroom was a dazzling display of wealth, power, and arrogance.

Crystal chandeliers dripped from the ceiling, casting fractured light across the polished marble floor.

I moved through the elegant crowd, keeping my eyes peeled for my target.

Waiters glided past with silver trays balanced on their fingertips.

I grabbed a glass of champagne, downing it in one quick, desperate swallow.

The liquid burned a fiery trail down my throat.

I needed the distraction to steady my visibly shaking hands.

A tall stranger materialized out of the throng of guests.

His dark hair caught the light, and his eyes locked onto mine with an unsettling intensity.

“You don’t look like you belong here,” he noted softly.

I shifted my weight, bringing my hand closer to the hidden slit in my dress.

“I’m looking for the Alpha King,” I replied, keeping my tone carefully casual.

He tilted his head, a faint, knowing smirk playing on his lips.

“He is a very dangerous man to seek out.”

I forced a light, dismissive laugh.

“I just want to meet him.”

The stranger extended a large, calloused hand toward me.

“Dance with me, and I might just tell you where he is.”

Refusing would draw unwanted attention from the roaming guards.

I placed my hand in his, letting him guide me to the center of the crowded floor.

His grip was incredibly firm, radiating an unusual, searing heat.

As the orchestra’s music swelled, a strange, terrifying sensation washed over me.

My skin prickled with a sudden, intense fever that seemed to boil my blood.

The polite chatter of the crowd amplified into a deafening, chaotic roar.

Every scent in the cavernous room hit my nose at once.

I smelled expensive floral perfume, spilled alcohol, and the faint metallic tang of sweat.

The stranger’s scent cut through the overwhelming sensory overload.

He smelled like crushed pine needles and raw, damp earth.

My heart hammered violently against my aching ribs.

A sharp, tearing pain erupted in my lower jaw.

I gasped, clutching my face as my knees buckled.

“What’s happening to me?”

I choked out, squeezing my eyes shut.

The stranger’s expression shifted immediately from amusement to deep alarm.

He stepped closer, shielding my trembling body from the view of the other guests.

“You’re turning,” he whispered, his voice laced with disbelief.

Panic seized my tightening chest.

I couldn’t possibly be turning.

Only those born with the cursed bloodline could shift into wolves.

The pain intensified, ripping mercilessly through my expanding muscles and stretching bones.

He wrapped his strong arm around my waist, hauling me toward a discreet side exit.

“You’re safe with me,” he promised over the sound of my ragged breathing.

The cool night air hit my face, but it didn’t slow the agonizing physical transformation.

Everything faded into a chaotic, terrifying blur of agony and pitch darkness.

I woke up the next morning in a massive, unfamiliar bed.

Bright sunlight streamed through heavy, dark velvet curtains.

I was wearing a loose, oversized men’s dress shirt.

My memories of the night before were heavily fragmented.

I remembered razor-sharp claws, a haunting howl, and the comforting scent of pine.

I scrambled out of the enormous bed, grabbing my discarded gown from the carpet.

Sneaking out the ground-floor window, I ran all the way back to the Miller compound.

My bare feet throbbed by the time I reached the familiar front porch.

Brian was pacing furiously on the gravel driveway, his hands running through his hair.

He rushed toward me the moment I staggered into view.

“Where the hell were you?” he demanded, gripping my shoulders tightly.

I kept my head down, avoiding his searching gaze.

“I drank way too much and got lost,” I lied, my voice shaking.

Uncle Craig stepped out of the front door, his face a chilling mask of deep disappointment.

“You missed your perfect chance to strike,” Craig said coldly.

I swallowed the massive lump in my dry throat.

“I’ll get him next time, Uncle Craig.”

I hurried past them both, locking myself safely in my tiny bedroom.

My whole body ached with a strange, lingering, restless energy.

Later that evening, a heavy, rhythmic knock echoed from the heavy front door.

I crept down the dark hallway, peering carefully through the brass peephole.

It was the mysterious stranger from the opulent ball.

I cracked the heavy door open, keeping the sturdy chain firmly engaged.

“What are you doing here?”

I hissed, glancing nervously over my shoulder.

He leaned closer to the narrow gap.

“You need to come with me before they figure out what you truly are.”

Brian’s heavy footsteps sounded ominously on the wooden stairs behind me.

He held a gleaming silver blade, his eyes darting suspiciously toward the stranger.

“Step away from the door,” Brian warned, stepping into the dim light.

The stranger didn’t even flinch at the sight of the lethal weapon.

“You are a long-lost member of my pack,” he said to me, ignoring Brian entirely.

My breath hitched painfully in my chest.

He was telling the absolute truth.

I was living under the roof of the most ruthless, unyielding hunters in the country.

And I was exactly the kind of monster they had trained me to kill.