CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WINTER
Winter lounged atop the enclosure wall with his elbow draped over a bent knee, his other leg hanging off the edge.
Pained and starved growls filled the night air of the forest, but the spectators’ mood rang somber.
Though they were still drunk and laughing, the air itself felt more intently focused.
A fraction of the players in the night’s game were kin or friends to the wolves watching—some of their victims were also in attendance.
Their crimes were enough to earn death, making them ideal for this spectacle.
They either met their demise as planned or, if luck was on their side and they won, escaped their fate.
Of course, Prince Winter didn’t always play fair. If he didn’t like what the winners’ crimes had been, he would kill them. He couldn’t let traitors to the crown run loose.
The longer he watched, the more his chest tightened with apprehension.
The scent of human blood hadn’t reached his nose yet, but it was only a matter of time before Sterling was caught.
He’d paired her with one of the strongest wolves in hopes of giving her a fighting chance.
Between the traps and the number of wolves in the enclosure, he still held little hope of her surviving.
Winter released a harsh breath. No, he reminded himself. He needed to hope for her demise.
But his foolish conscience weighed on him as it never had in his past. Arousal pulsed through his veins when he recalled the moment he’d drawn Sterling into his lap, her scarred, naked body against his clothed one.
Even the scars on her chest and ankle were beautiful.
How he’d wanted to bury himself inside her.
Fuck her so hard he would forget that she was Red Riding Hood, fuck her so animalistically that he would obliterate the infatuation he had with her and move on.
Winter’s blood boiled at both the lust drowning him from the inside and the rage he felt toward himself.
He couldn’t get the taste of her tongue out of his mind.
“You look irritated,” Micah said as he sat beside the prince. “The bitch will be dead soon enough.”
Winter grunted and peered down at Micah’s hand, the very one that had slapped Sterling. His nostrils flared at the memory. The wolf would eventually get the payback he deserved. The prince just had to bide his time.
“Who do you favor to win? I heard Carriage Killer is out there.”
That bastard had at least a dozen deaths to his name, terrorizing the roads used as trade routes, but Winter hadn’t recognized him at first—by the time he had, it was too late to pull him from the game.
Besides, all his kills had been deserved as part of a personal vendetta against a merchant, but they couldn’t allow their own packmates to be slaughtered.
Unless it was for a game disguised to murder one human woman…
“Red Riding Hood doesn’t stand a chance tonight,” he continued when Winter didn’t reply.
“You underestimate her,” Winter drawled. She’d evaded the pack for years while hunting them down, after all.
Micah’s lips curled in disgust. “She might’ve survived against the other humans, but she’ll be desecrated against wolves.” He ran a hand along his jaw and frowned at Winter. “You shouldn’t have given her a bow, regardless if she was able to find the single arrow.”
Two. Winter had left her two arrows. If she were fighting a team, that was the least she would need to have a sliver of hope at survival.
“I wanted her to think she stood a chance.” Winter narrowed his gaze toward the forest of the enclosure, wondering if soon an arrow would soar through one of the snarling wolves. Unless she hadn’t reached the quiver…
“You’ve been different ever since Red Riding Hood arrived. I’m not sure why you haven’t killed her yourself instead of keeping her like a precious pet. If you don’t want to take Talia back, there are enough harlots to fuck. Beautiful ones—there’s no need to keep a scarred cunt like her.”
Winter’s nostrils flared harder. If he called her a cunt one more time, Winter would snap his neck right there. “She’ll die when I say she does. If you mention Red Riding Hood again, I’ll tear your rib cage out of your chest.”
Micah shoved his full tankard of mead into Winter’s hand and stood. “Drink up—you need this more than I do.”
Winter couldn’t deny he needed the mead and put the tankard to his lips. He took a slow sip without looking away from the enclosure. Where are you? Hiding in the shadows or in the trees wouldn’t do much good—a wolf would eventually scent her out.
Minutes ticked by like hours while death and blood reigned.
Rustling came from outside the enclosure below.
Winter peered down to find a drunken female stumbling through the darkness and giggling to one of the guards.
The guard remained still, ignoring her. A good thing or else he would’ve faced Winter’s wrath if he wasn’t doing his duty.
He turned to Micah and found he was no longer there.
“Bastard,” he mumbled.
The prince downed the rest of his mead and rose to his feet. Still no sight of an arrow soaring through the air. He tapped his fingers against his thighs in agitation as a dark sense brewed in his chest when he gazed around the faces, not finding Micah anywhere.
Winter clenched a fist at his side, vowing that if the wolf had disobeyed his commands, he would kill him.
He threw the empty tankard over his shoulder and climbed down the iron ladder.
The blissful moans of two females poured out from the forest, then a male and female from the opposite direction.
Micah had better be getting his cock sucked and not attempting to take matters into his own hands.
The prince made his way deeper into the trees until the moon illuminated a dark-haired male with a blonde female kneeling in front of him.
Winter’s wolf bristled, then gave a low warning growl that echoed through his bones.
Micah loathed Sterling. He wanted her dead, his impatience growing by the day, and now he’d vanished when the prince wasn’t looking.
Fuck the game.
Winter stormed through the enclosure entrance.
He slunk with the shadows, stalking into the wooded area, confident that no one would dare attack their prince unless they wanted death over a chance at freedom.
Many had already met their demise, however.
Their bodies were strewn among the trees with entrails exposed and limbs turned at unnatural angles.
He passed by one man hanging from a tree, his human form still swaying.
Four teams were out of the running if Winter’s count was accurate…
His wolf tensed as Winter inhaled deeply. The faint hint of apples tinged the air and his pulse raced. He was making another mistake to the crown—another game ruined because he was a fool. Still, he moved toward her scent, his wolf urging him on.
“Get me the fuck out of here!” Sterling hissed in a low voice.
Unexpected relief washed through Winter, and he prowled to where her voice drifted up from a gaping hole in the ground. And by the sound of her spirited voice, it hadn’t been one of the traps lined with stakes at the bottom.
The prince stepped over the unconscious body of Sterling’s teammate. He was no longer in the wolf form he’d taken off in but sprawled naked on his back, another shifter’s blood smearing his right hand.
“We’re supposed to work together,” Sterling ground out.
Winter knelt at the edge of the pit and smirked down at her. A mixture of dirt and wolf blood covered her almost entirely, and a twig was stuck in her hair. Judging by the fire in her eyes as Sterling glared up at him, she was in fine health.
He angled his head and arched a brow. “It’s rather hard to work as a team when one of you is asleep.”
“Winter,” she gasped, the bow and arrow steadily in her grasp. “Did you kill him?”
He glanced over his shoulder at the man, his chest rising and falling steadily, before turning back to Sterling. “Did I say he was dead? I’m fairly certain I said he was asleep.”
“What did you do? I need him! You said no interference this time,” she practically shouted.
Winter trailed a finger against the edge of the dirt while his smile grew. “I’m hurt that you assume it was me.”
“No you’re not,” she snapped. “But if it wasn’t you, then help me out of here so I can wake him.”
“I could…” He pushed his hair from his face, guiding the locks over so it hung to one side. “That would also be considered helping though, wouldn’t it? And you just chided me for that.”
She bared her teeth in what looked to be an attempted smile. “Please, dear prince, accept my sincerest apology for assuming you murdered my teammate.”
He cocked his head as if he were considering her words, but he already knew what he was planning to do. “I’m not after your apologies,” he said carefully. Not unless she were offering it in favors, but even then, he shouldn’t even consider it…
“Then what do you want?” She bit her lip, her green eyes pleading. “I’ll do anything. For my brother.”
I wish I knew. But he did know part of what he wanted … to fuck her. He shrugged. “Mmm, anything? I do like the sound of that.”
She hesitated, her eyes narrowing. “Yes, anything.”
Winter tamped down his lust and focused on her.
If he left her alone, she’d be stuck waiting for her imbecile teammate to regain consciousness.
And by then, she would be dead. Winter shifted closer to the edge, and the smile slipped from his face.
“To be clear, I will help you out of the trap. However, you’ll still have to survive on your own after. ”