A Hunt So Wild (The Fractured Crown Trilogy #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter one

Briar had forgotten what it felt like to not be afraid. The hunters' horns had long gone silent, but that was somehow worse than hearing them. At least then she could gauge distance and knew if they were closing in.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been running, one hour? Six? It didn’t matter. Time had become meaningless, measured only in heartbeats and each gasping breath.

All she knew for certain was that she had to stop eventually, even if it was just long enough to catch her breath and gain her bearings. The question was where?

Trees spread out endlessly in every direction, offering little in the way of sanctuary.

She had slowed to climb over a fallen log when something caught her ankle and brought her crashing to the ground hard enough to drive the air from her lungs. She lay there for a moment, cheek pressed to dead leaves, trying to remember how to breathe.

As she pushed herself up she glanced back to see what looked like hands, dozens of them, withered and skeletal, sinking back into the earth and the soil closed over them as if they'd never been there at all.

What the hell?

Before she could process whether what she had seen was real or a figment of her unraveling mind, a branch creaked above her.

She looked up just in time to see it descending, moving despite there being no wind. She threw herself sideways and the branch slammed into the ground where she'd been, hard enough to leave an impression in the frozen earth.

More branches moved. All around her, the trees seemed to wake, their limbs reaching down with terrible intent.

Briar staggered to her feet and ran.

A branch caught her shoulder, bark rough against her skin, and she felt it tighten, trying to hold on.

She wrenched free with a pained cry, felt the warmth of blood as it began to seep down her back.

Another branch swept low and she ducked, felt it catch in her tangled hair.

She had to stop, had to grab the branch with both hands and pull, tears streaming down her face as hair tore free at the roots.

It was then, she realized that the forest was trying to kill her.

She needed shelter. Somewhere the trees couldn't reach, where she could catch her breath and think and figure out which direction was actually away from the castle instead of in circles through this nightmare forest.

The ground began to slope upward, rocky and uneven. She used tree trunks for support when she had to, touching them as briefly as possible, always ready to jerk away if they moved.

The slope gradually turned into a proper hillside, stone pushing through the earth in gray slabs. And there, partially hidden by dead vines, a dark opening in the rock. A cave.

No trees inside a cave, no hands reaching from the earth. Just stone, dead, unchanging stone.

She stumbled toward it, hope and desperation mixing into something that made her movements clumsy.

The entrance was narrow, barely wide enough for her shoulders, but she could tell by the echo that it opened into a larger space beyond.

Cold air breathed out from the darkness, carrying the smell of damp stone and earth.

Briar squeezed through the opening, stone scraping against her shoulders, her torn dress catching and tearing further. The cave beyond was small, maybe ten feet across, the ceiling low enough that she could touch it if she reached up, but it was better than nothing.

Water dripped somewhere in the darkness, a steady rhythm that echoed off the walls and she pressed herself into the deepest shadows, as far from the entrance as she could get.

Once she was certain she could get no deeper, her legs gave out and she slid down the wall, cold stone against her back.

Every part of her hurt. Her feet were raw and bleeding, her shoulder throbbed where the branch had caught her, and her ribs ached with each shallow breath.

But she was hidden. The cave mouth showed only a small slice of gray forest beyond. If she stayed quiet, maybe the hunters would pass by. Maybe she could rest here, just for a little while, long enough to catch her breath and bind her wounds and figure out how to survive the next hour.

She closed her eyes, the warmth in her chest remaining dormant. She pressed her hand against her sternum anyway, as if she could coax it back to life through will alone. Nothing. Just hollow space where that golden thread had once lived.

She was completely alone and that terrified her more than anything the forest could throw at her.

Three days. She had to survive three days of this, of running and hiding and bleeding while the fae lords played their games. Then she'd be free. Free to leave the forest, to go back to her mother and Allegra, to—

Footsteps.

Briar's whole body went rigid. Someone was approaching the cave entrance, not even trying to mask their presence.

She pressed back against the wall, trying to become part of the shadows, barely daring to breathe. Maybe they'd pass by. Maybe they hadn't seen the entrance. Maybe—

"Well, well, we meet again, my lady."

Lord Cairn's pale face materialized from the darkness like something from nightmares, his smile all sharp edges and cruel delight. He moved with the lazy confidence of a predator who knew his prey had nowhere left to run.

"I must say, you've given us quite the chase." He remained just out of reach, savoring her fear like fine wine. "I was worried the hunt would be boring, but you've been delightfully entertaining."

The cave suddenly felt smaller, the walls pressing in. Briar's fingers scraped against stone, searching for anything—a rock, a stick, anything to defend herself with. Nothing.

"You have no idea how thrilled some of us were when Eliam finally cast you aside." His eyes gleamed in the darkness. "All that time watching him parade you around like a prize none of us could touch. And now..."

He took a step closer. Then another.

"Please." The word escaped before she could stop it.

"Say it again. Hearing you beg excites me."

He moved faster than her eyes could follow. One moment he stood watching her, the next his fingers were tangled in her disheveled hair, yanking her forward. Her legs went out from under her, stone scraping her palms as she tried to catch herself. The impact drove air from her lungs in a sharp cry.

"I've been wondering what made our Forest Lord so... protective." His grip tightened, forcing her to look up at him. "What was so special about one little human thief?"

Briar's hands clawed at his wrist, but she might as well have been fighting a statue. "You don't have to do this."

"Don't I?" His free hand lowered, fingers tracing the edge of her ruined neckline, a mockery of gentleness. "If not me, then someone else. Would you prefer Lady Sarelle? She was discussing something about fingers. Very creative, our Sarelle. She always did have a flair for the dramatic."

The warmth in Briar's chest burned suddenly, recoiling from Cairn's touch like it recognized something fundamentally wrong, causing her to flinch. The reaction seemed to amuse him.

"How fascinating. You still carry his mark, even cast out as you are." His fingers found the thorned patterns visible above her neckline. "I wonder if it still—"

A blade erupted through his chest from behind.

Cairn's expression began as surprise before quickly shifting into one of confusion. Blood bloomed across his shirt, and his grip in her hair loosened. He looked down at the weapon protruding from his ribs, its blade devouring what little light there was while leaving strange shadows in its wake.

"You always did talk too much." Thaine's voice carried that familiar dark amusement as he yanked his blade free, letting Cairn collapse.

Briar sat there too stunned to move, her heart thrumming violently in her chest. Thaine had saved her, but to what end? Had she simply gone from one predator to another? The huntsman stood over Cairn's twitching form, taking a moment to wipe his blade clean before finally addressing her.

"Hello, little mouse." His smile was all teeth. “I see you’re faring well.”

Before Briar could respond, more footsteps echoed from the cave mouth. multiple sets, moving fast.

"Thaine." Lady Sarelle's voice drawled as she emerged from the shadows, two other fae flanking her on either side. "How unfortunate. We invoke hunter's right. We tracked her here first."

"Did you?" Thaine didn't turn, keeping his eyes on Briar even as he addressed the newcomers. "Strange. I only see Cairn's corpse and my lord's property."

"Former property," Sarelle corrected, strands of silver forming between her fingers. "You heard his lordship. She has been cast out. Fair game. The Hunt's laws are clear, she belongs to whoever takes her."

"Then take her from me." Thaine finally turned, positioning himself between Briar and the others. Not protecting but claiming. "If you can."

"Three against one?" The fae on Sarelle's left laughed. "Even you aren't that good, huntsman."

"Four," another voice called from behind them. Lord Ashford stepped forward, dragging his blade across the stone, the sound setting Briar's teeth on edge. "You’re not allowed to have all the fun, Sarelle."

Thaine's blade hummed, darkness spreading along its edge. "My lord gave specific instructions about the hunt. Three days. Fair chase. You're turning this into a common brawl."

"Your lord isn't here," Sarelle observed, those silver threads beginning to glow. "And accidents happen during hunts. Oh it will be such a tragedy when we tell of how the huntsman fell trying to defend prey that wasn't even his to take."

Sarelle's silver threads lashed out like whips while Ashford attacked from the side, blade singing through the air in a flash of silver.

Thaine moved, not the fluid grace she'd seen before but something far more vicious.

His blade carved through silver threads, deflected the sword, and opened a line across the third fae's throat in a motion too fast to follow.