A Hunger in Every Heart (Enchanted Legacies #4)

Chapter 1

TWO YEARS AGO

The only thing I’ve ever wanted was to go on an adventure. Preferably a really dangerous one.

That sounds strange, I know, but it’s true.

I’ve read thousands of books about distant realms far beyond my reach.

I’ve papered my bedroom walls with sketches of fantastic creatures I’ve only ever heard about, and practiced countless spells, hoping someday I might get to use them.

Ever since I can remember, I’ve dreamed of being anywhere but here.

But in reality, I’ve seldom left the village where I grew up.

Hell, I’ve hardly ever left my bedroom.

That’s alright; today is a new opportunity, and I’m already headed in the right direction.

I grin, my boots crunching softly against the frost-covered ground as I creep through the near-silent forest along the north border of Vernallis.

Ahead, a rocky hillside splits open like a wound, jagged rocks framing the mouth of a dark cave.

Icicles hang from the upper edge like teeth, dripping slow tears in the weak winter sunlight.

Maybe that’s a bad omen? I hope so! I would kill for some excitement.

I’ve spent weeks tracking this frost troll to its cave on the very edge of the border between Vernallis and our neighboring kingdom of Thermia.

Frost trolls usually live deep in the frozen Thermian Mountains, and I’m lucky to have found one so far south.

I might want an adventure, but I’m not sure I want to tackle the most dangerous mountains in all of Ellender on my very first try.

I come to a halt several paces away from the open mouth of the cave and reach down to my belt, checking one last time that I’ve remembered to bring everything I need.

I have half a dozen empty potion vials for collecting ingredients and several more that are filled with a stunning solution in case I run into trouble and need to make a quick escape.

Finally, I’ve got a long sword, only to be used as a last resort.

Frost trolls are nocturnal creatures, and if I’ve timed this right, it’s late enough in the afternoon that the troll has already left its den, but not so late that I’ll have to make the trek back home in the dark.

Satisfied that I’ve remembered everything, I square my shoulders and step toward the mouth of the cave, my stomach flipping excited somersaults.

Before I’ve gone two feet, a twig snaps behind me and my heart jumps into my throat. I whirl, hand already on my sword hilt, then freeze as my breath catches. A familiar blonde man is leaning against a birch tree, staring me down with sharp, burning intensity.

My stomach leaps again for an entirely different reason.

“Don’t sneak up on people like that!” I half-whisper. “I thought you were the troll.”

Fox, the new captain of the Vernalli guards, doesn’t answer.

He merely lets out a sharp exhale of breath through his nose as he pushes away from the tree to stride toward me.

He’s an enormous man, even by Fae standards.

At least six and a half feet tall and covered in well-defined muscles, he looks like he could break my entire body in half without even trying.

His chin-length blonde hair is pulled back in a no-nonsense knot, revealing the sharp angles of his too-serious face.

I’ve often thought he would be handsome if he ever smiled.

Oh, who am I kidding? He’s handsome anyway—almost annoyingly so—it’s just unfortunate that he hardly ever speaks and always looks at me with suspicion bordering on dislike.

“Can I help you with something?” I prompt when he remains stonily silent.

Fox stops a few feet away, and his icy eyes flick to the cave, then back to me, gaze raking over my potion belt and my sword. “What are you doing out here?”

I flash him a grin. “Why do you ask?”

Fox’s gaze narrows further, but he doesn’t answer.

My grin widens. “Should I take that silence to mean you don’t like being questioned? As it happens, neither do I.”

His jaw tightens, and he jerks his head toward the outline of a tall stone wall in the distance, just visible through the trees. “I’m on border patrol.”

“Ah.” I raise an eyebrow at Fox’s heavy armor and the twin swords strapped to his back.

“You look more like you’re ready for war, not border patrol.

But what do I know? It’s not like I’ve ever seen the border before today.

I’m fairly sure it’s over there, though,” I smile and nod to the wall in the distance. “Please don’t let me keep you from it.”

Fox blinks a couple of times, looking slightly taken aback. “What are you doing this far from the estate?” he asks again, glowering down at me.

I frown and tilt my neck all the way back to hold his gaze. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

He shakes his head once, and I sigh. I’m not doing anything wrong, but I feel like if I tell Fox I’m about to go explore a troll’s den, he’ll try to stop me out of sheer male arrogance. Unfortunately, the alternative seems to be standing here in awkward silence.

“If you must know, I’m going in there—” I mutter, jabbing a thumb over my shoulder toward the cave.

“That’s a troll’s den.”

“Yes, obviously. Is there a problem with that, Commander? I wasn’t aware you had jurisdiction over trolls.”

Fox gives me a long look, and I can feel his judgment as he takes in my petite frame and lack of armor.

His eyes linger for a moment on my long, indigo skirt, then on the large pink flower I found on the walk here and shoved behind my ear to hold back the strands of my short, dark hair. Finally, he scoffs. “Go home, Aurelia.”

I laugh. “Excuse me?”

He doesn’t respond, just raises an eyebrow as if to say: “You heard me.”

“Does barking orders like that usually work for you? Am I supposed to be intimidated?” He looks so affronted I have to stifle another laugh as I roll my eyes and step around him. “Excuse me, I really need to go now.”

“Aurelia!” he shouts after me.

“You can come with me if you’re so worried,” I trill, not really expecting him to take me up on the offer.

The captain makes a frustrated sound, almost like a growl, and after a moment I hear the crunch of his boots trudging after me.

Well, alright then. I suppose this is going to be a group effort.

Unfazed by the hulking figure trailing behind me, I step into the cave, passing easily beneath the enormous icicles covering the mouth.

The passage inside is taller and wider than the small entrance would have led me to believe, and the air is colder than it is outside.

The jagged, rocky ceiling is perhaps twelve feet overhead, and is dripping with sharp icicles as wide as tree trunks.

The walls and floor are also slick with ice, and my boots slide against the frosty ground with each careful step forward.

The sound of splintering ice and a low curse makes me turn back to see Fox knocking the icicles from the ceiling so he can duck underneath them without smacking his head.

I frown and press a single finger to my lips. “Shh!”

He widens his winter-blue eyes and his nostrils flare unapologetically, gesturing silently at the shattered ice as if to say: “Were you expecting me to get on my knees and crawl?”

I shrug. “Just try to be quiet.”

Fox rolls his eyes at that, and I stifle another giggle.

I can’t say I know Fox all that well. He’s only been the captain of the guards for a few months, and in that time I’ve barely heard him speak a word to anyone. I bet he hasn’t often been told to be quieter. Or to crawl, for that matter.

I yank my gaze from his and peer instead into the inky darkness of the cave. Without giving it any thought, I conjure an orb of light in my right palm and hold it up to guide our way through the dark cave.

Fox shoots me a suspicious sideways glance. He looks slightly pained—as he always seems to when forced to start a conversation—but finally asks: “What is that?”

“It’s moonlight,” I explain. “I’m not usually very good at conjuring things out of thin air, but this is so useful that I practiced it for years. It doesn’t burn my hand like fire would, see? You want to hold it?”

He takes a step back, shaking his head as he eyes the orb with obvious disgust.

“Suit yourself.” I shrug. “But my Gods you’re prickly. You’d think I tried to pass you a handful of shit.”

I hold the light high with one hand, bracing my other on the icy wall to keep from slipping as we walk further into the cave. As we move deeper, a musky stench hits me—like rotting meat left in the summer sun.

“Trolls are vicious,” Fox says unprompted.

“Yes, I’ve got that, thanks.”

He glances sideways, his eyebrows pulling low, as if to say: “Then what the fuck are we doing in here?”

I keep my gaze on the slippery path in front of me as I answer. “I’m here because I need to collect ingredients for one of my potions.”

He snorts a derisive sound.

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t important,” I add defensively. “It’s a healing potion, and troll hair is the only thing I can think of that might make it stronger.”

He shakes his head in resigned annoyance as he steps around me to take the lead. “Fucking witches,” he mutters under his breath, loud enough that I know I was meant to hear him.

“I’m not a witch, but would it matter if I was?

You can do magic too, can’t you?” He doesn’t answer, just stares straight ahead.

“Ah, got it,” I continue. “Were you never taught to use it? I suppose that would make sense if you were in the army your whole life. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t use magic…

is that common in Thermia? That’s where you’re from, right? ”

Fox lets out a clearly exasperated sigh. “You said to be quiet.”

“Ah, you’re right. Oops. Beatrix is always saying I talk too much, and she raised me, so I guess she would know. Oh well—hey, don’t look at me like that! You don’t have to be here. You followed me. I’m just doing what I would have been doing otherwise, so—”