Chapter 42
Valen
I knew better, but it was impossible to say no to the woman.
Belle returned to the saddle and led the way, following the bloodgolt’s tracks. It was all I could do to keep my eyes off her. The woman was clouding my judgment and dulling my senses.
I should have sated my lust with a courtesan this morning to clear my head, but the truth was, I’d lost interest in all other women. It was a godsdamned problem, and the fact that I couldn’t simply dismiss it infuriated me.
Branches snapped, and I scented the boar a moment before it erupted into view.
Briar reared, sending Belle tumbling off her back. She landed hard on the forest floor but managed to roll out of the horse’s path.
I swung off Storm and smacked his rear. “Go!”
The two horses tore off, heading in the direction of the pavilion.
Belle had rolled to a crouch, bow drawn and raised. Unless her arrow pierced the creature’s heart, it would only enrage it further. Its shoulders were taller than my stallion, and its tusks the length of a man’s forearm. Even if it didn’t gore her, its poisoned bristles could kill in minutes.
It charged.
I surged forward before I knew what I was doing, scooping her up and wheeling out of the giant boar’s path. She cursed as her arrow flew wide, though it twisted back through the trees in an impossible arc and sank into the creature’s shoulder. Her magic.
The bloodgolt released a guttural shriek, its hooves ripping up leaves and soil as it thrashed its head, snapping its fanged maw at the shaft protruding from its silver tipped bristles.
“What are you doing?” Belle hissed. “I had it—”
“I’m keeping you alive, princess. Now stay put.”
The boar rammed its side against an ancient trunk, snapping off the arrow and lifting roots free of the earth. Then it spun and trained its crimson eyes on me. Good.
I darted left, using only a fraction of my speed, so I could draw it away from her. The boar bellowed, then charged. I twisted, lifting a fallen limb and planting it like a pike. The bloodgolt rammed into it, impaling itself on the shattering wood.
It bellowed and scrambled to its feet as another scent drifted into range—the dyrwulf from earlier. That’s what must have spooked the animal.
I charged the boar, blades free, striking for its neck. The beast swung around, and I dove to the ground, dodging its savage tusks and stamping hooves. Searing pain shot through my leg, and I rolled to the side, rising and searching for Belle. She was no longer behind the tree.
Fuck.
The boar lunged at me, and its jaws snapped at my throat. I gripped its neck, holding back its immense weight, my leather gloves shielding me from the tips of its bristles.
A blur moved to my left. Belle.
The boar pressed down, and my forearm protested beneath the strain, the stench of its breath nauseating.
A slender arm slipped around the boar’s shoulder, a dagger in hand.
“Run!”
Instead, blood splattered over my face as Belle drove her blade into its flesh. The boar released another piercing shriek and swung its head around, slamming the back of its head into her side. She screamed and hurtled backward, tumbling through the brush.
Her cry twisted through me with an agony I’d never imagined, yanking me to my feet. The bloodgolt crashed away through the undergrowth, instantly gone from my mind. There was only her.
Blood splattered her face and chest, her scent stripped raw by adrenaline. I dropped to her side. “Show me where you’re hurt!”
My hands moved over her, searching for a wound, but she caught my wrist and forced out an agonized breath.
“I’m fine,” she rasped. “You’re the one who’s injured.”
My forearm had been fractured, and blood seeped from a laceration on my thigh, but I’d heal rapidly, perhaps by the time we returned. That was the gift of our kind. She was the one I was worried about, and she was acting as if she hadn’t just been nearly gored to death.
“What were you thinking?” I snarled. “I told you to stay put—and then you try to slit the throat of a bloodgolt?”
“You were inches from having your jawbone hanging from its tusk,” she shot back. “I had to do something.”
I stared, stunned. She hated me, and yet she’d almost gotten herself killed trying to save me.
“I don’t need your protection,” I said roughly.
“Of course, Your Highness. My mistake. You had everything under control.” She rolled onto her side and sat up. “We should find the horses and get moving. That wolf from earlier is still stalking us.”
She’d known about the dyrwulf? I stared at the woman, thoroughly impressed and furious.
I’d been a damned fool bringing her out here, and it had nearly cost her life.
I extended my hand. “Bringing you out here was a mistake. We’re leaving.”
She ignored it and shoved herself to her feet. Blood coated her jaw and collarbone, and when she straightened, her scent hit me full force—molten honey and sharp jasmine, and beneath it something stubbornly alive that had no business making my blood heat the way it did.
I dropped my hand. “Very well. Now move.”