9. A Suns-Damned Moral Quandary
9
A SUNS-DAMNED MORAL QUANDARY
GAbrIEL
R ising suns, this is fucking bad.
Any lingering soreness that had been plaguing me is long gone, having evaporated the moment I saw that incriminating blue swirl on her forehead. It’s been replaced by a raging headache that’s getting worse by the fucking second.
I can’t pull my gaze away from the Marked One in front of me.
How is this possible? The Kingdom of Myreth is home to millions of people. How in the gods’ names did the girl who saved me end up being the one I’m hunting?
No.
Not a girl. A woman, and a beautiful one, at that. Her face has a sharpness that I noticed as soon as I woke up. She’s curvy, which is how I’ve always enjoyed my women. Indigo curls match the fire in her violet eyes.
I enjoyed talking to her, and I even let down my guard and told her a bit about myself. I liked talking to her and getting to know her. She’s clearly kind because she saved me. For a few minutes, I relaxed in her presence, and I rarely do that around other people.
But none of that matters because she’s gods-blessed. Her Mark is glowing, a dead giveaway that she’s ready to be Given this year.
Burning suns, how did this happen? First, the fucking attack. I’ve been putting bits and pieces together of what happened to me ever since I woke up. I’m not entirely sure how it happened, but a mere hour after the enchanted falcon delivered the message about my newest hunt, Mist and I were attacked.
Robbers and other criminals aren’t exactly scarce in Myreth’s forests. After all, life in the kingdom is hard at the best of times, and people have been known to grow desperate. I fought back, but they must’ve overpowered me somehow.
My memory is still foggy, but I remember telling Mist to get help before I lost consciousness. The last thing I remember before falling into darkness was watching her run into the forest. I’m not sure how much time passed before I woke up to a pair of stunning violet eyes inches from mine.
At first, I thought the suns had blessed me. Birdie was an angel in disguise who saved me from death and healed my wounds. She smelled like jasmine and vanilla, and from the moment I woke, there was a connection between us that I’d never felt before.
Now, though?
I’m doubting whether the infernal suns have ever cared about me at all. In my twenty-seven years of life, I’ve never encountered such a gods-damned awful situation. She saved me, but she’s the one I’m hunting.
The Given—Wren—moves to step away from me, and I snarl, “Don’t.”
The sharp word echoes through the forest, a command that demands attention. She freezes, her damned violet eyes unblinking as she studies me.
A growl rumbles through me. “Don’t fucking move.”
I need to figure out what to do, and I can’t do that if she’s running away. Suns have mercy on my soul. How is this happening? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that one of the gods was having fun fucking up my life. The hunt was supposed to be easy. Catch her, bring her back to Grenbloom, and finally achieve my new status as Master Hunter.
Her mouth pinches in a line, and her gaze is unwavering. Even though she’s obeying my order—something that makes me far too happy for such a fucked-up situation—her chest is heaving, and the air is heavy between us.
Esyn’s tits, everything I’ve come up against in my life pales in comparison to this.
My other hunts were relatively simple, all things considered. Escaped prisoners rarely get far before they’re caught, thanks to the generally malnourished state they’re kept in. The king’s prisons aren’t known for providing three square meals a day, after all.
And then there’s the gods-blessed. There are far fewer Marked Ones who run compared to fleeing criminals, and they’re usually caught within a day before being returned to their respective temples.
I know what I’m supposed to do.
I should lunge forward, grab her, and tie her up with whatever vines I can find. Throwing her over my shoulder, I should carry her back to her village. No one would fault me for gagging her or even roughing her up along the way if she decided to fight back.
After all, she’s an escaped gods-blessed. A felon, in the eyes of the Ruby Crown.
She’s broken the law, run from her fate, and disobeyed the will of the gods. For that, she’s forsaken any rights she might once have had. The glowing Mark on her forehead gives me permission to do whatever needs to be done.
Even though returning her to her village is the right thing to do, I fucking can’t. She saved my life, and for that, I owe her a debt.
I’ve spent the past decade working towards becoming a Master Hunter, and now this happens? Gods, bad luck doesn’t even begin to describe how awful this situation is.
This is a suns-damned moral quandary the likes of which I never could’ve anticipated, which brings me back to my original statement.
Fuck.
Long moments pass as Wren and I stand there, staring at each other. The wind blows past, howling in my ears. Branches crack, each brittle snap a reminder that the giving season will soon give way to winter, and leaves rustle. Deep in the woods, far from us, a wolf howls. A moment later, another one joins in. Birds tweet, and squirrels hop across branches, but I barely pay them any attention.
I may be the youngest Hunter in our kingdom’s history, but my training never covered this. Now, I’m at a complete fucking loss. Gods above.
The problem is that even though I’m a Hunter, I also have morals. If I lacked them, this entire situation would be a moot point because I’d already have grabbed her, and we’d be on our way.
“What are you going to do to me?” My prey breaks her silence, her voice frustratingly soft and sweet.
Why does she have to be the one I’m hunting? Heat runs through me at the sound of her voice. My muscles tighten, but I pointedly ignore the way she makes me feel.
Moving my eyes from hers, I glance at the knife she’s holding with white-knuckled fingers. Even with the weapon, she’s no match for me, and we both know it.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly, returning my gaze to hers.
She draws her bottom lip through her teeth and chews on it. That action has no right to be so attractive or distracting. “You could let me go.”
I choke on a laugh, thinking she’s joking, but she doesn’t crack a smile or even look away from me. Suns have mercy on me, she’s serious. “Impossible.”
Her eyes widen. “It isn’t. All you need to do is close your eyes, and I’ll leave. I promise you’ll never have to see me again.”
“No,” I growl, balling my fists.
She’s wrong. I cannot let her go. I am a Hunter, and she is an escaped Given. The very nature of our positions in life sets us at odds with each other. There is no room for bargaining here, nothing she could offer me. Even if my promotion wasn’t on the line, I’ve never negotiated with those I’ve hunted.
She doesn’t seem to realize that, though, as she shakes her head. Are those tears lining the bottom of her eyes? Gods above.
“Please,” she whispers, holding my gaze. “I’ll do anything. Just let me go. Do you need money? I don’t have any, but I can get some and?—”
“I said no,” I repeat. “There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”
It’s not like I have a choice here. The gods-blessed must be Given. It’s the law, the very foundation upon which our country is built. The temples need the Given, and Myreth needs the temples. The gods-blessed and their contributions to society are vital to our kingdom. Everyone knows this.
The Giving is the way of our land. The gods, in their infinite wisdom, declared it to be true. It’s why we have a giving season, why the gods-blessed are venerated, and why I cannot release Wren.
Doing so would paint a target on my back as much as there is one on hers, and I can’t let that happen. I didn’t work hard for years to reach this position, only to throw it all away because a Given with violet eyes asked me to.
She must decide she’s done standing still because she steps to the right. I follow suit. Her left hand creeps down to her side, and my hackles rise.
Clenching my fists, I snarl, “What are you doing?”
I’m so far from relaxed that I can’t remember what it’s like to not be tense. Each inhale is sharp, like I’m inhaling shards of glass, and I’m far too aware of my movements. It’s like I’m dancing on the edge of a sword, and one wrong move will result in a painful death.
“I’m thirsty,” she murmurs. “Can I get a drink?”
I’m not sure whether it’s the plea in her voice or the way her violet eyes seem to look directly into my soul, but I jerk my chin.
Exhaling, she steps backward, picking up her canteen off the shale. Unscrewing the top, she lifts it to her lips and drinks. Her throat bobs and swallows, but her gaze is locked onto mine.
Her stare is unnerving, but I can’t look away. She tilts back her head, and her hood slips again, revealing her Mark. Every gods-blessed has one, but they’re not usually on their foreheads. I can’t remember the last time I saw a Mark on someone’s face.
The brilliant swirl mocks me, a reminder of what I’m meant to do, and tension radiates through my entire body.
Every minute we spend in this strange stand-off is one where I’m decidedly not doing my job. I need to come to a decision quickly. After all, I’m not the only Hunter the king employs. Others undoubtedly received the same message I did. They’re probably converging on Grenbloom now, searching for the woman standing in front of me.
When she puts the cap on her water, I’ve reached a decision.
It’s stupid, and I honestly can’t believe this is what it has come to, but I don’t see any other way forward. At least, not one that will simultaneously allow me to do my job while fulfilling my life debt.
“One day.” My words seem to boom through the forest, echoing the thundering of my heart.
A crease forms between her brows, and her nose scrunches as she blinks. “What?”
I step away from my prey, my chest heaving as my fists clench at my sides. It feels unnatural to put space between us, but it must happen.
“In payment for my life debt,” the words are acidic at the back of my mouth, but I force them out, “I will grant you one day.”
I shouldn’t be doing this. Gods, if King Andreas ever learns that I’ve done such a thing, I’ll undoubtedly suffer his wrath. But it’s the only way I can repay her for what she did while still fulfilling my obligations.
I’m not sure why she’s running from being Given—maybe she doesn’t believe in the gods?—but in the end, it doesn’t matter. She’s fated to work with them, and it’s my job to bring her back.
It feels like an eternity passes as her eyes sweep over mine, finally filling with understanding. She swallows. “You mean?—”
“One day, little bird.” My nails cut into my palms as I force myself to keep the distance between us. “I’ll give you one day’s head start before I come find you.”
And when the day is up, I will hunt her like I’ve never hunted anyone before. I will catch her before any of the other Hunters and bring her back to the temple. I’m going to become a Master Hunter. Then, I’m going to find the people who attacked me and make them pay for putting me in this gods-damned position in the first place.
Her breath catches, and her eyes widen as fear settles into them. Blood leeches from her face. Her fingers tremble as she stares at me.
Good.
She should be afraid. Once I set my sights on something, I never let them go. It’s part of what makes me so good at my job.
“But—”
“No buts. You saved my life, and for that, I owe you a boon.” There’s a roaring in my ears, but I keep going. “This is it. My gift to you.”
It’s far more than what I should be giving her, but now that I’ve laid out my terms, I can’t take them back.
She still hasn’t moved. Why hasn’t she moved? I point to the sky, where the canopy of trees breaks enough to give a glimpse of the suns sitting directly above us.
“When the twin suns reach this point tomorrow, I’ll be coming for you, Wren Nightingale.” I arch a brow and snarl, “Now, run .”