It felt wrong, wrong, to look upon another man this way. Especially a man who was in the running for her cousin’s hand in marriage. Surely she was losing her mind.
“I must go.”
In a move like a dance, Wyneth turned away, only to feel the warmth of his grip around her wrist, spinning her back around, pulling her with a silent command right into that solid chest and those strong arms she’d just been admiring. Without a single word, Lord Alvi took Wyneth’s mouth with his own, practically lifting her off her feet as his hands circled her waist and tugged her body against his.
She heard herself make a noise of surprise which morphed into a moan at the closeness and warmth, the scent of clean masculinity. For a long moment she shut off her mind, letting her senses have full control. Lief’s hunger for her lips was like nothing she’d ever felt. He was not careful, nor did he bother with niceties as she was accustomed to. He took complete ownership, crushing her body to his in a way that made her long for more.
All at once, the two names closest to her heart were shouted inside her mind.
Breckon! Aerity!
Lady Wyneth pushed against his wide chest, and he let her go. She struggled for air. He wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb and smiled.
“You—we can never do that again,” Wyneth said. Her voice was a shaky jumble of want and need and regret.
“Why not?” His head cocked in that curious way again.
“Why not?” she repeated back at him in disbelief.
“I’ve wanted to do that since I first laid eyes on you.”
Wyneth’s blood raced at the flattery of hearing that from a man like him. But it wasn’t as simple as he was making it out to be. “I only just finished telling you I’ve lost the man I was to marry. My heart . . . still aches.”
He appeared crestfallen. “I’m sorry, Lady Wyneth. I thought it might help.”
Oh, the logic of a man, Wyneth thought. “What’s more, Lord Alvi, if you kill the beast you’ll be granted the hand of my cousin. My best friend!”
Wyneth was still in shock that he’d kissed her, this man she scarcely knew, and that she’d been so completely willing. Being so near him, she felt the lingering lust burning under her skin, and the churn of guilt in her gut. It was the worst kind of situation. Couldn’t he see that?
Apparently not, based on his easy smile. “Life is for living, Lady Wyneth. You needn’t feel guilty or worried. Fate will intervene to make things right, when necessary. I hope to see you this evening before the hunt.” He brought a massive hand to her hair and let his palm and fingers stroke a lone curl.
Her chest was still heaving as he walked away.
Blasted “fate.” Outlandish notions.
Wyneth grasped her gray skirts and marched back to the castle through crunching leaves and dry pine needles, overrun by a maelstrom of thoughts. She was quite certain that kissing one of her cousin’s suitors mere months after the death of her fiancé was not fate. It was simply one man acting on an inappropriate urge. She was ashamed that her first reaction had been to welcome his touch instead of thwarting it.
She felt utterly alone. Wyneth could never tell Aerity. She could never tell anyone.
As she burst into the castle, a gust of wind at her back, she could still feel Lord Lief Alvi’s firm lips against hers. She avoided the eyes of the guards as she passed, bringing a hand to her mouth to hold on to the feel of Lief’s kiss for a moment longer.
Just a moment more, and then she’d put him from her mind.
Chapter
20
After her studies, Aerity donned her leotard and a soft pullover tunic. Another day had passed, and the beast was still at large. The only good thing to happen was that the king was feeling a bit more comfortable about letting his children out of the castle during daylight to places other than just the commons. The hunters’ presence seemed to make everyone feel safer. The beast had never attacked or been seen during the day, and it hadn’t set foot on royal lands since the night it took Breckon’s life.
At least not that they knew.
Vixie had sprinted from the doors toward the stables, her guards racing to keep up. Donubhan and several of their young cousins were accompanied by maids and guards down to the royal beach where they could dig for sandcrabs and enjoy the autumn sun a bit before winter began to show its face.
Flanked by several guards, Aerity headed the back way to the side of the castle, avoiding the entrance of the commons. The giant oak tree loomed, awaiting her company, with magenta silks hanging from a high, thick branch. The guards kept their distance, making a square around the tree. She hardly registered their quiet presence anymore. She gave the silks a tug to be sure everything was sturdy before taking off her tunic and dropping it to the ground.
This was Aerity’s favorite silk. Rather than two separate strands, this one was connected, making a U at the bottom like a hammock. Aerity held the silks up high and lifted her knees, sliding her pointed feet through the gap, feeling the burn of her abdominal muscles. She hung upside down a moment by her knees, letting the tips of her hair drag along the ground, twisting side to side to warm up and stretch. Then she lifted herself until she was sitting in the silks, like a swing.
A breeze blew and Aerity looked up at the rays of sunshine shooting through the canopy of yellow and orange leaves. In that moment, there seemed to be peace in the land, but an ache deep in Aerity’s gut reminded her that all was not well—that all might never be truly well for her again, even after this monster was killed. She pulled herself to standing, the silks pressing into the bare arches of her feet. Then she let her body take over in a series of climbs and wraps, twisting and stretching, leaning her body in unnatural ways that pushed her flexibility to the limits. She split her legs and struck an upside-down pose, where she hung by her hips, her whole body tight to keep balanced. With a twist of her waist, she spun, her arms and legs out, hair flying.
Nearby cheers sounded, causing Aerity’s core to momentarily loosen and make her wobble. She reached up and pulled herself quickly to sitting, turning her head to see her audience—nearly all the hunters had climbed the side wall where the wooden risers were, and were sitting on top of the stones, watching her. She became acutely aware of her tight leggings and leotard.
“Don’t stop on account of us, Princess!” Tiern yelled.
Her face flushed as men of all nationalities smiled up at her, clapping. The Zandalee women cupped their hands around their mouths and let out keening sounds. She gave them all a small wave, feeling exposed.
Then Aerity’s eyes caught the still form of Paxton on the end beside Tiern. He leaned his elbows on his knees, watching her with his unreadable stare. Those dark eyes made her feel more than exposed. She felt naked.
Despite their protests, Aerity slid down from the silks and grabbed her tunic. She walked quickly toward the castle, giving a polite smile in their general direction before she disappeared.
“Deep seas, she’s something, isn’t she?” Tiern raved. “Did you see her, Pax? And when she walked off, all bashful like? Adorable! Did you see?”
“Aye, I’ve got eyes, don’t I?” Paxton had seen, all right. And he’d heard every word the bloody Ascomannians had muttered in lewd laughter out of earshot of the guards. He thought there’d be a fight between Harrison and one of the men when the lieutenant told him to shut his mouth, but Lief had defused the situation, making them all laugh with a story about a coldlands woman who’d dumped her ale over the man’s head when he’d commented on her bottom.
Paxton didn’t move a muscle, even after the other hunters climbed down and went about their business. The Zandalee three jumped from their high perches into the field with the oak tree, landing in impressive crouches. He stared absently as they took turns on that fabric thing. Judging by the way they struggled and grunted, it must have been harder than it looked.
Aerity had made it look easy. He thought about that morning in the infirmary, the way she’d hugged Mrs. Rat
hbrook and kissed the woman’s cheek. It was one thing to be polite to a Lashed, which few were, but to show that level of affection? It had taken him completely by surprise. Aerity was the future of this kingdom—she’d someday be queen. She could change these lands for the better. Was there hope to be had after all? Paxton gave his head a shake.
He turned and hung his feet over, facing the commons area, and dropped to the rows of seating below.
Lord Lief Alvi was waiting for him at the bottom. They clasped hands when Paxton reached him.
“Quite the prize, is she not?” the coldland lord said, nodding in the direction of the tree on the other side of the wall.
Paxton shrugged, sort of wanting to silence Lief with a punch to the throat at that moment. “If you fancy the circus life.”
Lord Lief Alvi gave a loud laugh. “If only marriage were as entertaining as a circus. But at least that one would bring a bit of fire to the arrangement. Not all royal lassies are so . . . interesting.”
Paxton said nothing, unsure if Lief was baiting him for his stance on royals. He sometimes forgot the hunter was royalty in Ascomanni.
“Your man Harrison, though. He’s got a history with the princess, aye?”
Paxton shrugged. “They know each other. Friends, supposedly.”
Lief’s eyebrows went up and down, and he chuckled. “The lad’s in love, I’d say. This hunt’s a dual purpose for him—vengeance and love.”
This turned Paxton’s stomach for some reason, and he found himself saying, “I believe there is only friendship between them.”
At this, Lief laughed and slapped Paxton’s arm. “He’s after her hand, just like you and I.”
“I don’t fancy the idea of marriage,” Paxton stated.
“Aye. I probably wouldn’t either if it wasn’t expected of me.”
Paxton supposed each man and woman had their struggles to overcome, but he was glad not to be a royal with all the ridiculous things expected of them.
“I daresay you will fancy the idea of marriage a bit more if you kill the beast and earn a plump bed inside that castle.” Lief elbowed Paxton in the upper ribs, making him grunt.
Paxton grumbled, and the Ascomannian lord chuckled, walking away.
Chapter
21
The next morning, after the night’s silent hunt and silent breakfast, Paxton and Tiern sat with the other hunters around the fire pit to discuss. Though it was daylight, the fire was good for keeping them warm against gusts coming up from the sea. The Zandalee were the last to join, one of the women shamelessly rubbing her hip against the back of Tiern’s head as she passed. His mouth froze midsentence. Samuel and Harrison choked back their laughter.
“I agree, Tiern,” Lief said from across the fire, not having seen. “It seems to set out at random. There’s no pattern to where it chooses.”
“Jes,” said the Kalorian man who’d seemed to have a leadership role among his men, and one of the few who spoke Euronan. His hair was shaved along the sides, a strip of black slicked down the middle. “This is like no animal I have hunted. I cannot predict.”
Paxton and the others nodded.
“Auda,” Zandora said in a low voice from where she sat behind him. Paxton nodded. He recognized the Zorfinan word for water.
A hissing sound was made from across the fire. Paxton was surprised to see the Zorfinan men staring at the Zandalee with contempt. When Zandora made a gesture with her fingers, they all looked away.
“Why do you think they hate each other?” Tiern asked Paxton.
“They say our tribe is cursed,” Zandora murmured from behind them. “They are fools.”
Paxton, Tiern, Samuel, and Harrison all swung their heads around.
“You speak Euronan?!” Tiern said.
Zandora gave a shrug. “When it suits me.” Her accent was strong.
“Why am I not surprised?” Samuel chuckled, shaking his curly head.
The three Zandalee looked smug in their black head scarves wrapped securely around their dark faces and necks. They each sat on the grass lazily, two leaning back, Zandora in the center with an elbow on her raised knee.
“My sisters speak only Zorfinan.”
“They’re your sisters?” Tiern nodded to the other girls.
“Jes. I am the oldest. Some call me queen of our tribe.”
“So, the girl you lost,” Paxton said respectfully, “she was your sister, also?”
Zandora kissed her fingers and touched her shoulder in some kind of tribal sign. “Jes. Our youngest. She brings our tribe much pride with her bravery.”
The men nodded. After a quiet moment, Tiern asked, “What is the story with you and them, then?” He nodded across the fire to the other Zorfinan hunters. “I mean, if it suits you to tell me.”
Zandora threw back her head and gave a rich laugh. “I like you, Tiern Seabolt. My sisters enjoy you even more.”
“Oh, erm.” Tiern rubbed his neck and gave a nervous laugh as the sisters watched him like prowling cats. “Thanks . . . ?”
“Why do they think you’re cursed?” Harrison asked. “Because women rule your tribe?”
“No. It is because the Zandalee allow magic. We do not give census keepers permission to enter our lands. If they try, we kill them.”
Paxton’s heart thrummed erratically. The other men raised their brows. Samuel said, “You mean, you allow your Lashed to work freely?”
She gave him a fierce look. “Is that a problem for you?”
“No.” Samuel raised his hands. “I have no problem with the Lashed.”
Paxton tried to keep his voice steady. “I didn’t know there was any place in Eurona where it wasn’t outlawed.”
To this, she shrugged. “Zandalee do not care for laws of Eurona. Or Zorfina. We make our own. In this way, our people flourish.”
The men nodded, eyebrows still raised. None of them dared say anything against this.
“Do you have children of your own, then?” Tiern asked.
This brought a smile to Zandora’s face. “A son and daughter for me. A son for my sister.” She motioned to the older of the two, then the younger. “This one married just this summer.”
“So many children . . .” Samuel’s words trailed off and his eyes glazed as he stared off.
A clang echoed from the commons gates, and they turned their heads toward the sound of running. A military commander from the castle burst through the tents to the fire pit, out of breath. Paxton jumped up with the other hunters to hear the news.
The man’s forehead was creased in remorse. “A fishing village in the north was attacked during the night. Doors ripped from the hinges, men were devoured while their wives and children watched helplessly.” He stopped, swallowing.
Curses. It was breaking into homes? Why couldn’t the beast have shown itself where any hunters had been instead of a helpless village? The hunters shared horrified expressions.
“Perhaps we can station hunters in the sea towns with horns, so they can alert us if the beast comes,” said Samuel.
Paxton shook his head. “We don’t have the numbers for that. But we can send word to towns to have their own men with horns at the ready. Each town could come up with their own system of alert, stationing their people at different intervals, maybe in trees—”
“But there are curfews throughout the kingdom,” the officer said.
“Blast the curfews!” Paxton shouted. He closed his eyes to calm himself.
Harrison stepped forward. “With all due respect, sir, if people are willing to help, I think they should be allowed.”
The officer set his jaw. “I will speak with the king’s commanders. If they agree, we’ll send mounted messengers to towns to set the plan in motion.”
The hunters nodded, and the officer left them to prepare for that night’s hunt.
They hunkered over the maps.
“Our greatest success was the night we were all close enough to hear one another’s calls,” Paxton reminded them. “If
they approve the horns, we can afford to spread a bit farther, but it’ll be at least two days until we know.” He ran his finger along a length of the waterway.
“But the beast has moved north,” Volgan argued, pointing closer to the ridgelands.
“That’s the last place it attacked,” Harrison said. “But the beast has attacked many places with no rhyme or reason. Always along the waterways.”
“Then you can stay down there by the creeks, and we’ll follow the beast north along Eurona River,” Volgan argued, chest puffed.
“It’s a swift swimmer, and it knows it’s being hunted,” Lord Alvi told them. “I say each group takes one of the major waterway veins—North Creek, South Creek, Eurona River, even up around the bay. My men and I will take midriver. We’ll be too spread out to help one another, but if we have no luck, we’ll go back to grouping closer again tomorrow night. Agreed?”
Paxton gritted his teeth in annoyance. He knew Lief was trying to appease his men, but Paxton wanted to stick to a plan where he felt their odds of killing the beast were much better. He was sick of wasting time and lives for the sake of stroking the pride of a few.
After another silent night of hunting, the Zandalee were irritable on their return to royal lands at daybreak. They kept snapping at one another in Zorfinan, and the men moved further away, steering clear. Samuel suggested cutting through the nearby town to get them back quicker.
Families filtered out of their homes, women sweeping their steps, men off to work. The Zandalee watched the women with interest. Their few children approached with caution, curious, watched closely by their mothers.
“How goes the hunt?” one woman called, a hand on her hip.
Harrison shook his head. “No sign of it last night. We’ll get it, though, miss. Soon.”
The woman, probably his mother’s age, stepped into the street and kissed Harrison’s cheek. She beamed grateful smiles at the other Lochlan men, and then stared openly at the huntresses.