Chapter 18
Callum – Eleven Years Ago
I’m in the training arena alone again. Training for the day has ended, but I always spend several more hours afterwards perfecting everything I learned.
I’m officially a Hunter now, bottom of the pack, but it’s a starting place.
The only place I can go is up. Or back on the streets, I guess, if I don’t make King Corvin proud of me.
He seemed pleased that I became a Hunter – I was easily one of the youngest recruits they’ve ever had, and I’ve proven that I can hold my own.
I run through a few more exercises before I notice that King Corvin has joined me. He does this more often than I’d prefer, checking in on my progress and making sure I’m learning ‘correctly’.
I lower my sword and bow. “Your Majesty. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
King Corvin chuckles. “Very formal. Your tutors must be teaching you well.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Your training here also seems to be going well. You’re shaping into a strong and powerful man.”
“Thank you, sir.” He still hasn’t announced why he’s here.
“I want to teach you another lesson today. One that other soldiers know well but isn’t necessarily taught.”
“Sir?” I ask, watching as he grabs a sword from the rack. The last time he picked up a sword against me, my kneecap shattered. It still hurts after a long day of training, and twitches in his vicinity.
“Come sit. And take off your shoes.” He gestures to a bench near him, glowing in the brazier light.
I hesitate for a second too long.
“What did I order you to do, soldier?” King Corvin’s eyes shoot daggers at me, and I instinctively flinch.
“Yes, sir.” I hurry over to sit on the bench, tugging off my leather boots.
I sit there awkwardly, hands twisting in my lap.
“Becoming a great soldier requires a lot of sacrifices. It requires absolute dedication and an inner strength and ruthlessness that you haven’t yet found.”
He approaches me slowly, dragging the long tip of the sword through the sand floor, stopping in front of the lit brazier.
“You want to become the King’s Lead Hunter, Callum? One of the elite?” The King’s voice is dripping with venom.
I nod furiously. “More than anything, sir.”
“Then you need to be able to remain calm in any situation that may arise. Remain strong. Prove your worth to the kingdom. To me.” He thrusts the end of the sword into the brazier, holding it in the flames. “Do you understand, soldier?”
“I…” I’m not sure what’s happening. I watch the flames flickering against the metal blade.
“Do…you…understand?” The King asks again, enunciating each word.
I know there’s only one answer he’s waiting for, and I’m nothing if not desperate to please. “Yes, sir,” I croak.
The King removes the sword from the flames, the end of it burning red, smoking in the night’s air.
“Raise your feet, soldier.”
I do as he asks. My heart is pounding in fearful anticipation. Beads of sweat are dripping down my back, into my eyes. My hands are gripping the edge of the bench, knuckles white.
“Are you worthy of being a Hunter? Worthy of me?” The King asks, holding the sword a few millimeters away from the soles of my bare feet. The King’s eyes bare into mine sternly, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.
I straighten and glare at him. “Yes, sir!” I yell proudly.
And that’s when the sword presses firmly against the bottom of one of my feet.
The sizzling of the heat on my skin rings in my ears, the smell of the burning flesh acrid in my nostrils.
But I do not scream.
I grit my teeth, biting my tongue so hard I taste copper.
The King does the same on the other foot, and again I make no sound.
This is another one of the King’s tests, and I cannot lose.
My nails are digging into the wood where I’m clutching on for dear life, and I’m sweating profusely.
I never look away from the King’s stare, meeting his cold gaze with one of my own.
At last, the King removes the sword and tosses it to the ground. He nods slowly in my direction. “You’ll make a fine Hunter, son.” And with that, he walks away.
When I can no longer see the King in the distance, I release a low cry.
I extend my legs out on the bench next to me, unsure of how I’ll make it back to the palace.
I grab a waterskin that’s under the bench and gently pour the cold water on the bottom of my feet.
I have to bite my fist to prevent myself from crying out from the pain.
I lean against the wall, hoping that the pain will subside.
Hoping that this will all be worth it. There was a sick satisfaction when the King called me son.
I never knew who my actual father was, and the King is the only father figure I have in my life.
Proving myself to him felt good. At the time, I was the strong, ruthless person the King wanted me to be.
Right when I convince myself that I’m staying here overnight, I hear a familiar voice.
“Cal? What the fuck?!”
I let Rafe’s voice soothe me, pressing my head against the cool stone wall.
Has it become warmer out? I’m shaking in a cold sweat.
The pain in my feet is making me dizzy, and I can’t open my mouth to respond.
My eyes flutter shut, and the last memory I have is Rafe carrying me, knowing I’m completely safe in his arms.
???
I slowly blink my eyes open and groan, the memories of last night’s events coming back to me in full force.
My feet have been carefully bandaged, and they’re propped up on some pillows.
I don’t even have to open my eyes to know I’m in Rafe’s room.
The bed smells like him – like old parchment and bergamot. I move to sit up.
“Woah, easy there, Cal.” Rafe jumps over the back of the couch he was laying on. He passes me a cup of water which I gratefully accept.
“Thanks, Rafe,” I manage to stammer. “I’m sorry for all this – give me a few and I’ll leave.” I look around his room. “Do you have my boots?”
Rafe arches an eyebrow at me. “Oh? Is that so?” He gestures toward the door. “By all means, go ahead.”
He smirks at me, and I see the challenge in his brown eyes.
Never one to back down from a challenge, I slowly move my feet off the pillows, swinging them over the side of the bed.
That movement alone sets my feet on fire.
I gingerly place one foot on the floor before letting out a cry of pain that I didn’t want to slip out.
Rafe plasters another hard expression on his face and I relent. “Fine, can I stay here for a couple of days?”
The thought of staying in Rafe’s bed heats my face more than it should.
“Why, yes, Callum, what a wonderful idea. So glad you’re not being stubborn!” He laughs, and eventually I join in with him.
As soon as the laughter dies down, Rafe grows serious. He sits himself on the edge of the bed and brushes my sweat-soaked hair away from my forehead tenderly.
“Are you going to tell me what happened last night?” Rafe grabs a damp towel from the nightstand and presses it to my head.
I avoid his eyes and bat his hand away from my face. “A training accident.” I shrug. “I accidentally knocked one of the braziers over and stepped on the hot coals.”
“Barefoot?”
“I was trying something new. The soldiers say you should always have balance no matter the footwear.”
“Clearly you need to practice more if you’re so out of balance you’re knocking over braziers.”
I peek at Rafe. I can read him well enough that I know he doesn’t believe my stories. I’m getting worse at making them up. Each one sounds more far-fetched than the last one I told him. I won’t burden him with the truth, though, so I continue to lie and Rafe continues to pretend to listen to them.
Rafe presses the cloth back to my face. I try to protest, but Rafe cuts me off.
“Can you let me take care of you, Cal? Please, for once, stop acting so damn strong.” Rafe practically growls.
I don’t answer, but I also don’t push him away.
I sink into the pillows in surrender as Rafe cleans the sweat off my face, hoping he doesn’t hear how fast my heart is pounding with him being so close.
Somehow Rafe always picks up the pieces after the King breaks me.
I hate that he sees me in my most vulnerable state.
“How’s training going?” Rafe asks, crossing the room to bring over a tray of food I hadn’t noticed.
“Well, I think. I’m hoping to be the King’s Lead Hunter in a few more years.
” I make a noncommittal sound like it isn’t a big deal, trying to downplay how much being a Hunter means to me.
The King’s Lead Hunter is a coveted position - being the King’s confidant as well as leading the rest of the Hunters.
It would also allow me choose my Hunters - and Ginna would finally be able to join.
Rafe still trained with the rest of the recruits but I knew he was debating whether or not to quit. Rafe was more inclined towards history and art and would rather spend his time reading or painting. I knew he was happy not being a soldier, but it was also a contentious point with his family.
“Of course you’ll make it. You’re easily the best, and the King loves you.” There’s a hint of jealousy in the last part, and the pain in my feet becomes more prevalent.
I give him a small smile, focusing on the food in front of me.
Meanwhile, I watch as Rafe tugs off the shirt he’s wearing and starts rifling through his closet.
A spoonful of porridge is halfway to my lips when I freeze, staring at Rafe.
I’ve seen him shirtless plenty of times before during training, but it’s different now, the air in the room becoming thinner.
His bronze, muscular back has me mesmerized and I can’t seem to remember what I was doing.
Not hearing any response, Rafe turns around to me and catches me ogling him. I blush furiously, quickly hunching myself over the bowl and spooning porridge into my mouth.
Rafe remains quiet, but I notice that a huge grin has spread across his face. I’ve long since admitted my crush on Rafe to myself, and I find it harder to keep it a secret from him.
Once Rafe is satisfied that I’ve eaten, he takes a vial of laudanum out of a drawer and hands it to me.
“This should help with the pain. I need to take care of a couple things, but I’ll be back later to check on you.”
He uncorks the bottle as I open my mouth to protest. Rafe shoots me a look.
“Didn’t we agree that you’re the patient here?” Rafe quirks a brow at me. I grumble in response but allow him to pour the liquid into my mouth.
“There’s a good boy.” Rafe throws me a wink.
I immediately redden again.
“Thanks, Rafe.” My eyes are slowly becoming heavy as the drug kicks in. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” My words are beginning to slur.
“Luckily, you won’t ever have to. I’m always going to be by your side.” He squeezes my shoulder gently and leans in close. For a second, I think in my haze that he’s going to kiss me, but he pulls away instead.
I’m almost asleep when I hear Rafe open the door to leave.
Before he steps outside, he whispers, “I know you’re lying to me, Cal.
I only hope someday you trust me enough to want to tell me the truth.
” The door closes with a thud, and I drift off into the abyss, dreaming of an angel with brown eyes and bronze skin.