Bought by the Beast King (Katerina and hunter) novel Chapter 52

**Leaves Falling Like Promises**
**By Amara Grant**
**Chapter 52**

KAT

Mal’s home was surprisingly tranquil, a stark contrast to the wild, untamed expanse surrounding it. Nestled deep in a region where wolves might once have roamed freely, I had expected a more foreboding atmosphere. Yet, since Mal had brought me here, the only sounds that filled the night were the soft rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of a cricket. Even the howls of distant wolves had been absent from my restless nights, leaving me with an odd sense of security that I hadn’t anticipated.

For the first couple of days, I had cocooned myself in my bedroom, too overwhelmed to venture out. It took an entire day before I mustered the courage to sit on the back porch, where the sun’s gentle rays began to penetrate my gloom. The thick trees swayed gracefully in the breeze, their branches whispering secrets I longed to hear, transforming the once intimidating landscape into something almost serene.

Yet, despite the beauty surrounding me, a heavy ache lingered in my chest. It felt as though I carried an open wound, festering and raw, and every fleeting thought of Hunter was like salt poured into that wound, intensifying my grief.

As I sat there, rabbits scampered by, bees buzzed from flower to flower, and butterflies danced in the air. I even spotted a few deer darting gracefully through the trees, heading towards a river that sparkled like a jewel in the distance. They seemed to embody life, moving forward with ease, while I remained stuck in a moment of despair.

Was Hunter searching for me right now?

More salt.

I instinctively clutched my chest, and the little black furball, Mr. Mittens, perched on my lap, meowed loudly as if to protest the disturbance.

“Sorry, Mr. Mittens,” I murmured, scratching behind his ears gently. It still struck me as amusing that he allowed me this intimacy, considering that if I hadn’t suppressed my wolf, we would likely be adversaries.

The back door creaked open, and Mal emerged, cradling a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. The rich aroma wafted towards me, momentarily distracting me from my spiraling thoughts.

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked, concern etched in his features.

I accepted the warm mug with gratitude, though my appetite was nonexistent. Grief had settled in my stomach like a stone, churning relentlessly.

“Later,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, a lie I told myself as much as him.

“I’m heading to the gym to lock up and check on things,” he said, his gaze drifting over the picturesque view that I was struggling to appreciate.

Mal had already stowed my bike away, along with a few essential items from the gym. It felt like a part of me was being put away, too, and I mourned the loss. That place would never feel safe again.

“Do you need me to bring you anything? Another phone?” he offered, his voice laced with genuine concern.

My own phone had been off since I left the apartment. The Bureau would undoubtedly be attempting to reach me regarding work and possibly to follow up on my statement. They could track it if they wished. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to dispose of it; it was the last tangible connection I had to Hunter.

More salt.

I placed the coffee on the table beside me, my hand trembling slightly, almost spilling the hot liquid over the edge.

“If you don’t mind,” I murmured, my voice cracking under the weight of my emotions.

“You know I don’t mind at all. You should try to walk around a bit, but stay within my property line,” Mal advised, turning to leave. “Everyone else is here if you need anything.”

I had barely exchanged words with the others. They were present that night, and many moved about like lost souls. Some of the women still wept when they thought no one was listening, their sobs echoing in the thin walls of the house. I heard them each night, even as I fought to contain my own tears.

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