Carved in Ice and Glass: A Snow White Fairy Tale Romance

22. The Hunter

Vikros and a dozen armed soldiers emerged from their hiding spots, surrounding me and Eira. I extended a hand and when I felt her fingers take mine, the weight of worry on my chest eased a fraction. Electricity shot between us, and though I couldn”t see her, that simple bit of contact was a solid reassurance she was still with me.

She could still flee, I told myself. Even with Vikros able to see through her magic, he was just one man. She could outrun him.

But she didn’t move. And something told me she wouldn’t run even if I asked her to.

The stubborn, beautiful woman.

“Smart move, lingering in the village,” Vikros said, a smug smile on his face as he approached. “We’d have thought you would leave immediately, so we had all the main roads under close watch.” He cocked his head at me, his dark eyes glittering with malice. “Or perhaps it was a foolish decision, remaining here.” He spread his arms wide, gesturing to the soldiers closing in on us.

I knew Vikros. He had a tendency to be overconfident, especially when he had the upper hand. Perhaps I could use his hubris to my advantage.

“You can’t stop me, Vikros,” I said loudly.

He barked out a laugh. “You may have bested me in hand-to-hand combat before, old friend, but even you can’t stop a dozen soldiers coming at you at once.”

A dozen soldiers. Possibly more lurking in the shadows. Stella and Denton were nowhere to be seen, but that was a good thing. If Vikros had captured Eira’s friends, he would boast about it. Perhaps use them as leverage like he’d done with the human children.

The reminders of Vikros’s savage methods sent rage boiling through me. My fingers flexed at my sides, itching to strangle the man before me. Magic burned beneath my skin, eager and at the ready. Out of habit, I pushed it away, then froze.

A necromancer holds the threads of life in their hands, whether it’s to preserve a life or to end it.

I had the power to end Vikros’s life right here and now. All I had to do was find his life thread.

But how did I do that? Each time I’d used my necromancy had been a complete accident. I hadn’t seen any threads at all.

Think,I urged myself.

But I also had to keep Vikros talking.

“How much is she paying you?” I blurted.

Vikros’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

“The queen. I’ll bet she’s holding back. You could milk her for more, if you had the balls.”

Vikros’s face contorted with rage.

“What are you doing?” Eira hissed, her breath close against my ear.

“Follow my lead,” I muttered back. I needed to buy more time. If Lavinia was right and I’d been using necromancy while hunting, then perhaps it would be easy to tap into that killer’s instinct. I just had to trigger the same responses within myself.

Adrenaline.

Intense focus.

With the dark fae and Eira’s injury, rage and blinding pain had preceded the necromancy. Something had exploded within me. When the soldier had struck Eira, I’d assumed it was the fae bond tearing my body apart; I’d vowed she wouldn’t get hurt while I was around.

But then something in my magic had… shifted. Desperation mingled with fear and fury, pain and panic, urgency and a raw, feral thirst for blood.

Vikros was speaking, but I didn’t hear him. Blood pounded in my ears, drowning everything out.

Then Eira spoke, and my focus homed in on her words.

“I don’t know, Theron, I’ll bet he’s too small to ask Calista for anything, let alone more gold.”

Vikros snarled something unintelligible and drew his sword, pointing it at Eira.

I didn’t need to conjure that desperation and fear. It surged through me of its own accord, every fiber within me roaring at the sight of a blade aimed at the princess.

“You will address the queen as her majesty,” Vikros spat.

I felt Eira stiffen next to me. “She is a false queen, and I will address her as such.”

Vikros drew closer. Though I couldn’t see Eira, I knew the point of his blade was within inches of her face.

No! something within me screamed. Do not touch her!

I clung to that wild panic and expanded it, like adding fuel to a raging fire. It burned up everything inside me, leaving a path of violent agony in its wake.

The sensation ignited the magic within me, and it was as if a lever had been pulled within me, triggering my necromancy.

Suddenly, I could see threads everywhere.

The air went still around me, as if time had stopped. Vikros stood unmoving before me, his arm poised to strike Eira. The soldiers surrounded us, weapons raised.

But between each figure was a long, blue thread. They crisscrossed and overlapped, like a spiderweb. Each strand glowed with an ethereal power, the same exact shade of blue that had resonated from my palms. The same color as Lavinia’s gemstone.

Life threads. I was looking at each individual’s life thread.

All I had to do was pull one.

But I had to pull the right one.

Struggling to maintain my focus and hold the magic in place, I glanced over each thread, tracing the strands to the individuals around us. The soldiers’ overlapped with each other, but I found one thread that stood out, wrapped tightly around Vikros like a cocoon. Two other threads were twined around him. I followed their path and found them attached to Eira and myself.

For one, horrifying moment, I stared at my own thread.

I had the power to end my own life… or preserve it.

A life weaver.

It was almost too much. My brain was on fire as I balanced the chaos of the magic raging inside me. It festered like an open wound. Necromancy thrived on pain; I understood that now. But I had to be enduring the pain the entire time in order to trigger it.

I had to act quickly or the agony would consume me. I couldn’t save Eira if I was unconscious.

Very carefully, I spread my awareness forward, focusing on Vikros’s thread. It glowed brighter as my magic drew closer. I pictured invisible hands grasping the line, felt the way it stretched taut under my pressure. I closed my eyes, and envisioned myself snapping the strand in half.

A loud crack echoed in the street. In a flash, all the visible threads I’d seen vanished, and reality slammed back into me, pressing on my chest so heavily I couldn’t breathe. The air was squeezed out of me, and I choked, my lungs screaming.

Shouts echoed around me. Black spots danced in my vision, and I knew I would pass out. I would die. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t live…

Sharp fingernails dug into my cheeks, and there was Eira, her eyes wild with panic as she stared at me. Slowly, her muffled voice became clearer as my senses returned. “Pull yourself together, hunter!” she was saying. “We need to move, now!”

I blinked, and the scene came into focus. Vikros had collapsed, and a few soldiers hurried to examine him. But I already knew he was dead.

The others kept their weapons pointed at us, but they were distracted, their eyes on their fallen commander. A few shifted their feet, and I knew this was our opportunity.

Vikros was their commander. What would they do if he was killed? They answered to the queen, but she wasn’t here.

A soldier without orders was like a fish without water. They wouldn’t know what to do.

Chaos was our ally.

I sucked in several deep gulps of air, struggling to loosen the tight ball of nerves in my chest. With a swift nod, I took Eira’s hand and squeezed. “Invisibility,” I whispered.

Half her mouth lifted in a knowing smile, and she vanished. Even though I could no longer see her, I still felt the warmth of her hand in my grasp.

More soldiers were shouting. Their swords faltered, as they no doubt scrambled to find out where Eira had gone.

I allowed myself three more breaths before I sprang into action. My movements were more sluggish than normal, but the swordsmen had no chance. Even on my worst day, I was a better fighter, and right now, they were confused and disoriented.

Easy prey.

I ducked to avoid a blow, then struck the man in the throat. With a twist of his arm, the sword was free, and I had a weapon. Two more men rushed me, and I swung the sword, opening a deep wound in the neck, then severing the man’s head completely. My sword clanged as the second soldier attacked. We sparred, and I saw an opening. A swift slice to the exposed part of his underarm, and he was dead.

I removed his head as well, for good measure.

The remaining soldiers continued to advance toward me, but fear was etched into their faces.

I might have shown them mercy. But each and every one of these men had threatened Eira. They had seen her face. Her magic.

Mymagic.

They couldn’t be left alive.

It took me less than a minute to end their lives. I didn’t need their threads to do it, and the motions were as simple, as effortless to me as breathing. The swing of a blade. Duck, parry, a slash to the throat. My sword clanged against one soldier while I drove my fist into the stomach of the one creeping up behind me. They were armored and they outnumbered me.

But I was faster.

Soon, there were only five left. Then three. Another thrust of my sword, and the last soldier’s head went rolling.

Panting and covered in blood that wasn’t mine, I surveyed the carnage that stained the street.

Thirteen men, including Vikros, lay dead before me.

“Eira?” I asked quietly.

No answer.

Had she, too, fled for her life? Or had she seen me slaughtering soldiers and left, horrified by the sight of me?

I was evil. A monster.

My throat tightened at the thought of her disgusted and frightened expression. How could she think otherwise?

“Eira?” I called out again.

“I’m here.” Her voice was far away, and clarity speared through my frenzied thoughts. Of course she would have taken cover. I could have accidentally taken her head off.

She dropped her invisibility, and there she was, lingering by a shop across the street. She approached me with a level stare, her face betraying nothing.

“Stella and Denton left,” she said, as if answering an unspoken question. “So did Frisk and Mauro.”

Good,I thought. If they had lingered, they would have either been caught or killed in the chaos. “But you didn’t.” My gaze never wavered from Eira’s.

“No. I didn’t.” Her eyes held mine, and I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.

“You’re not afraid?” I asked.

Eira gazed around, her eyes taking in the slaughtered soldiers, the victims of my wrath. Her face remained impassive as she said, “You are frightening, Theron. A killer. Brutal and lethal. I can’t deny that.” She looked at me once more. “But I am not afraid.”

Several heartbeats passed, and I felt as if Eira were scrutinizing me, peering into the deepest and darkest parts of my soul. But instead of fleeing from the monster she saw within, she drew closer to me. Her steps were careful and steady as she dodged the bodies strewn about the street.

After what felt like an eternity, she stood before me. Slowly, as if afraid she would startle me away, she lifted her hand and pressed it against my cheek. And when she spoke, her words speared straight through me.

“Because I know you are so much more than just a killer, Theron.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Her declaration rendered me speechless. I was going to say, I know, but I couldn’t. That would have been a lie.

Was I more than just a killer? I had been the queen’s assassin for so long, working in the trade I knew best because it came easily to me, that I wasn’t sure I knew who I was anymore.

“Who am I, princess?” I whispered.

She brought her other palm to my cheek so her hands framed my face, then rested her forehead against mine. For a moment, we stood there, sharing breath until our heartbeats were synchronized.

At long last, she murmured, “You are mine.”