The Hunter
I felt as if I’d been trampled by a dozen stallions. It wasn’t quite as painful as the slice of a Demon Fae’s claws, but it was pretty damn close.
Groaning, I sat up, then winced from the sharp throbbing in my head. Shivering bones, this headache was worse than the hangovers I’d get from faerie wine, back when I spent every night drinking myself into a stupor. That had been just after—
I shut that thought down. You aren’t allowed to think about those years. Remember?
I still drank human spirits, which weren’t nearly as strong as faerie wine. But the wine of my folk could only be taken in small doses. Faerie wine didn’t keep one’s wits very well, and without my wits, I’d be dead.
I was in some sort of small circular cave filled with cots and several piles of blankets and quilts. A dozen lights shone from the ceiling, glistening in purples and blues and greens. It didn’t take long for the memories to come flooding back.
The pixies. The princess. Her strange trickery with the blood bargain.
“Shit,” I muttered, staggering to my feet and clutching at my head again. Blood and ice, that pixie magic was a bitch.
But I had to get up. If the princess had fled because I’d passed out, I would never forgive myself.
A quick glance over my body had me cursing again.
I’d been so sloshed I hadn’t even woken when someone had bathed me.
I no longer reeked of Demon Fae blood, and I was wearing a fresh tan tunic and brown trousers.
My daggers were resting on the ground by my cot.
The pixies must have retrieved them from where I’d dropped them in the snow.
Shaking off the disorientation, I clumsily strapped the knives to my belt and snatched the fur coat left for me next to my bed.
Head still spinning, I stumbled past the empty cots along the cave floor and made my way out into the snow. The bitter cold nipped at my skin, but it was far better than the blizzard from the night before. At least the wind was gone, and there were no flurries to blur my vision.
As soon as I stepped out of the cave, I sucked in a sharp breath.
With the air clear, I could see everything from this high up.
Several mountain peaks formed a ridge line that descended until it met the gleaming pearly spires of the Taerin palace.
The surrounding villages were capped with snow, and in the distance, I could make out the Gray Lake, which was frozen solid.
Its marble surface reflected the sun’s light.
The Winter Court was breathtaking. I often forgot that.
“Ah, he lives,” grunted a familiar voice.
Mauro the stag rose to his feet. He must have been resting just outside the cave.
My eyes narrowed. “Were you standing guard?” As if I were some sort of prisoner.
Mauro huffed. “We couldn’t have you running away in the dead of night, now, could we?”
I rolled my eyes. “If I came all the way to Knockspur to find the princess, what makes you think I would just flee when she’s still here?” I paused. “She is still here, isn’t she?” I hated how vulnerable my voice sounded and wished I could take the words back.
Mauro snorted as if laughing at me. “Of course she’s here. She’s just down the slope with the pixies.”
My mouth fell open. Eira was with the pixies? And Mauro was perfectly fine leaving her there with them? Nyra might have bargained to refrain from harming the princess, but pixies were tricksters. There were plenty of ways they could get around that.
Without another word, I descended the slope, pausing frequently to steady myself along the slippery ice. Faint music resonated from downhill, no doubt from the pixies’ revelry. When I rounded the corner, I stopped.
A vibrant, jaunty tune was playing from some instruments I couldn’t see, and the entire crowd of pixies was dancing around the colorful fire still blazing in the center of the plateau.
It didn’t take me long to spot the princess.
She stood almost a foot shorter than the pixies, and her pale skin was like a translucent beacon amidst the colorful shades of the pixies’ flesh.
She was near the fire, her body twisting and turning in rhythm to the music.
Her arms lifted above her head, her wavy black hair tossed about with her movements.
She had washed and changed out of her blood-stained clothes.
Now she wore a light blue tunic with a leather corset cinched around the middle, her sleeves flowing and free.
Leather riding pants hugged her legs, accentuating her curves. Especially when she danced.
A wide smile lit her features, making her almost unrecognizable. I’d seen her smile, of course, but not like this. Not this expression of freedom and release, without a care in the world. The grins I’d elicited from her had been calculated and taunting, like a mask she wore to protect herself.
But this was the true Eira. The persona she didn’t want me to see.
I stood there, momentarily caught off guard. I begrudgingly had to admit that this infuriating princess had surprised me. Not just in outwitting me, but in facing the Demon Fae head-on and risking her life in a bargain to save mine.
She was nothing like what I’d imagined. When Calista had described her wayward stepdaughter, I’d expected a spoiled, belligerent princess intent on dividing the court and wreaking havoc.
But here she stood, dancing among the pixies as if they were her dearest friends.
Somehow, despite marching into a tribe that would see her as an enemy, she had turned them into allies.
And damn, she looked beautiful.
“Like what you see, hunter?” drawled a voice.
I sighed and turned to find Frisk grinning slyly at me. Beside him, Kendra was gobbling up a handful of berries and paying us no attention.
My face flushed. “Why are you still here?” I asked the fox.
“I’ll never leave Snow’s side,” he said, lifting his chin in determination.
“I mean why are you and the princess still here? Why haven’t you left yet?”
“She has a bargain to fulfill.” Frisk’s whiskers twitched. “Much as I hate that she is tethered to you, of all people, Snow never goes back on her word.”
“If she’s fae, it’s because she has no choice,” I muttered.
“You know it’s more than that,” Frisk snapped. “She didn’t have to make a bargain to rescue your sorry ass, you know. That’s twice now she’s saved your life.”
“Twice?” I laughed.
“Yes, twice. She killed the Demon Fae, didn’t she?”
The smile slipped from my face, leaving a scowl in its place. I hated that Frisk was right. To be fair, she wouldn’t have been able to kill the creature without my help. But saying that now would only sound childish.
“We’ll need to get moving if we’re to make it down the mountains before the next blizzard hits,” I said.
Frisk chittered. “Good luck telling her that.” He jerked his head toward Eira.
My brows knitted together in confusion. What was that supposed to mean?
Shaking my head, I turned and made my way toward the crowd of pixies.
A few parted to let me pass, but most of them were unperturbed by my presence.
One tall, pink pixie even drew close enough to grind against my backside, her giggles echoing in my ears.
It took all of my restraint not to bury my dagger in her thigh.
I figured such an action wouldn’t be well received.
I reached the princess just as she twirled into my arms. Instinctively, I caught her against my chest, and she laughed loudly, raising her face to meet mine.
I waited for her expression to fall when she met my gaze, but instead, her eyes brightened, and she leaned into me.
“Hunter! You’re alive!” Her hips swayed, and she draped her arms over my shoulders, urging me to move with her.
I stared at her as if she’d grown three heads. What the hell was she doing? “Are you drunk?”
She laughed loudly. Far too loudly. A few pixies around her cheered in response. “Nonsense. I’ve only had one drink.”
Warning bells clanged in my mind. My gaze snapped to an emerald-skinned pixie I recognized from last night. “What did you give her?”
The pixie flashed her teeth at me. “Only a bit of Winterwing Brew. It’s our finest drink.”
Shit. Shit. “She’s part human,” I growled.
The pixie laughed and twirled elegantly in time with the music. “I assure you, she is reacting quite normally to the brew.” She began grinding against another pixie, who moaned with delight.
I swallowed hard, glancing over the crowd with fresh eyes.
Every single pixie not only seemed enthralled by the music, bodies moving in perfect rhythm, but they also seemed…
exceptionally aroused. A pair of females had their legs wrapped around each other, their wings keeping them afloat as they writhed together.
Next to me, the emerald pixie began groping the one next to her, hands moving to the taut hardness between his legs.
My skin suddenly felt hot as Eira’s hips met mine with more force. “Dance, hunter,” she ordered.
I gripped her wrists and pulled them away from my shoulders. I was suddenly achingly aware of how heated her body felt against mine. “Eira, we don’t have time for this.”
Her lower lip puckered in a frown. “Of course we do. Don’t be such a grump.” She lifted our joined hands and twirled so her back was to my chest, then draped my arms around herself, tightening my grip on her. Shivering bones, the feel of her ass grinding against me…
I gritted my teeth, looking around the crowd to see if anyone was paying close attention to us.
Every pixie seemed consumed by their own dancing, but I had a feeling if I lifted Eira into my arms and carried her off, it would cause a disturbance.
Especially if she screamed. I definitely didn’t want to anger these pixies, particularly if they were inebriated by… whatever was in their Winterwing Brew.
With a growl, I gripped Eira’s arms tightly and whispered in her ear, “Would you come with me?”