Bought by the Beast King (Katerina and hunter) novel Chapter 51

**Leaves Falling Like Promises**
**By Amara Grant**
**Chapter 51**

**HUNTER**

I crouched low in the underbrush, my muscles tensing and then relaxing as I focused intently on Kitty as she entered the house. Who was that man accompanying her? Was he a family member, or perhaps someone with ulterior motives? The questions swirled in my mind, each one more urgent than the last.

As the door clicked shut behind them, the tiny kitten I had observed earlier suddenly hissed, his fur bristling as he turned to face me. He had caught my scent, yet he made no move to flee. It was almost comical how his survival instincts seemed to fail him. I had been lurking right beneath his nose, a predator poised to pounce. Or maybe he simply felt too secure in his surroundings, lulled into complacency.

I glanced down at my paw, watching as the charred remnants of my fur began to regrow, the skin beneath healing slowly. Those wards had been brutal, viciously designed to keep threats at bay. Whoever had cast them was a master of their craft, and I had barely escaped their wrath.

For a moment, I remained still, listening intently to the sounds emanating from within the house. I could hear the soft cadence of footsteps, the gentle snores that punctuated the quiet, and the tender exchange of “Goodnight” between Kitty and the man. Once silence enveloped the house again, I rose to my feet, a fire still raging within me. If I had been even slightly weaker, the magic would have consumed me entirely, leaving nothing but ashes. The pain was relentless, a constant reminder of my precarious existence.

And yet, I knew I would have to endure it once more to make my escape.

With careful precision, I slipped back into the trees, taking care not to snap any twigs underfoot. The night was unnervingly quiet, as it always was when I shifted; even the smallest creatures understood to keep their distance from me. My dark grey coat melted into the shadows as I moved, my large frame navigating the space between the tree trunks with practiced ease.

At the perimeter, three layers of lethal protection stood between me and freedom. Each barrier was designed to kill, a testament to the lengths taken to guard against intruders. It was only my desperation to discover Kitty’s whereabouts that had compelled me to breach them. Now that I knew she was safe, I felt a sense of clarity wash over me. I could accomplish a few tasks before bringing her back to my side. All I had to do was reach my car at the foot of the mountain and drive home.

As dawn broke, casting a pale light across the landscape, I finally allowed myself to slip back into Kitty’s apartment. I collapsed just inside the door, my body wracked with exhaustion. My skin felt as though it had been flayed, blood seeping through my clothes and pooling on the floor beneath me. All I could do was submit to the healing instincts of my beast, allowing it to mend my wounds.

The hours dragged on. I, a man known for my ability to heal almost instantaneously, found myself shivering on that cold floor, my bones rattling with the chill. Even when I finally regained my senses and washed away the blood, my head remained clouded, a lingering fog of disorientation hanging over me.

When Elijah entered my office later that afternoon, my beast remained dormant, a strange calm settling over me. I couldn’t discern if it was due to Kitty’s absence or some residual magic still lingering in the air.

“Sir, we’re still waiting for you to question Rivers,” he stated, his tone respectful yet insistent.

“Let him stew,” I replied, my voice flat, devoid of any emotion.

Perhaps sensing my lack of aggression, Elijah took a step closer, his curiosity evident.

“Do you genuinely believe he is responsible?” he inquired, his brow furrowing. “He doesn’t strike me as particularly… intelligent. We’ve been pursuing this man for years, yet he consistently remains one step ahead. Rivers, however, is predictably reckless.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise, and I cast a quick glance at him. His words almost sounded like a begrudging compliment toward the killer.

“He still needs to be questioned. I’ll find you later,” I said, dismissing him with a wave of my hand.

Once Elijah had departed, I turned my attention to the document displayed on my phone. A photograph of the man who had taken Kitty the previous night glared back at me from the screen.

Malcolm Leighton, sixty years old, no family, no fixed address. He had gifted Kitty the gym just months prior, claiming it was a gesture as he prepared for retirement. The gym itself was a financial sinkhole, barely making ends meet, yet it served as a sanctuary for those in need, according to my sources. Malcolm had once been a champion, his youth marked by gold medals and later, training the next generation of athletes and endorsing well-known fitness brands. That old money had provided him a comfortable life.

So, there was no familial connection between them. How had Kitty crossed paths with him? The details in her file were scant. An orphan raised by a couple who had long since passed, she had learned to fend for herself from an early age. No relatives, no ties, no friends. She had been accustomed to solitude.

There was no one to help me dismantle the barriers she had erected around herself. No one to reassure me that she was inherently good but had simply been led astray. Otherwise, why would she have accepted Rivers’ money or committed some act of selfishness that now haunted her?

My thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. How had I failed to sense that man approaching my building? I closed my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose, a wave of frustration bubbling within me.

“What?” I called out, my voice tinged with irritation.

The door swung open, and Kostas stepped inside, bowing slightly.

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