Given (Skullstalker Brides #3)

Chapter 1

One

Vale was being Summoned.

He paused, one claw poised to trim a shadowy vine. Who was summoning him? Was one of his Skullstalker brothers in trouble?

Vale bowed his antlered head, concentrating. It did not feel like a fellow Skullstalker. It felt like a mortal, pulling him weakly toward the mortal realm.

Vale dropped the vine, considering. He did not have to obey the Summoning. The spell was weak. If he put the slightest amount of pressure on it, it would snap as easily as a rib-twig branch.

But Vale was curious. He had not been Summoned in an age. And never by a mortal. It was likely a useless affair, but he could spare a moment to see to it.

Well, he considered, staring around the twisted, messy overgrowth that made up the wilderness void nowadays. I cannot reasonably spare a moment. But I am surely due for a rest.

The idea made him uncomfortable. He had not rested in years. There was too much work to do. Once, he’d had magical assistants to help him tend to the plants, keeping them healthy and content. But the assistants died centuries before. Perhaps millennia. It was difficult to keep track these days.

Vale strode through the thick black bushes to the silver pool that allowed him to travel between realms. But before he could step into it, something surprising happened: a bone tulip stretched out its chalky petals and curled around his wrist.

Vale looked down at it, shocked. Once, the void communed with him often. Nowadays, when a leaf brushed the skull mask that made up most of his face, it was simply the wind.

He touched the bone tulip reassuringly.

“I will be back soon,” he assured it.

The bone tulip shivered against his cool skin. The void was trying to say something. But try as it might, no words or even a fleeting emotion appeared in Vale’s head.

Vale unwound the bone tulip gently from his wrist. Then he closed his glowing green eyes and stepped into the silver pool, letting the Summoning drag him away.

The mortal realm stunk of blood.

Vale’s fanged mouth watered. He opened his eyes to see a dark forest. It was plain, sparse, and silent. Not like his own void, where crowded shadows dripped and faraway beasts cawed.

There was a circle drawn around him in the dirt, the exact shape of the pool he had just stepped into. It was crafted with the same blood that smelled so enticing upon his arrival.

The source of the blood was obvious: directly in front of him lay a plump young woman tied to a decrepit stone slab.

Her wrists and ankles were bound with silk, her right arm dripping blood onto her white dress.

The blood was almost as bright as her hair, which was wrapped in a crimson braid around her head.

This woman was the source of the Summoning, Vale realized. The weak tug of magic ended with her.

An older mage stood next to her, sweating hard, a staff clutched in his hands.

The one who cast the spell, Vale decided.

His attire was luxurious but tattered. He had the same features as the woman, plump and crimson-haired.

Unlike the woman, he looked positively delighted to see the Skullstalker appear.

Further into the forest, a group of humans gasped at Vale. Several of them gripped arrows or held up axes.

“Be still,” the mage barked. He wiped his damp forehead and gave Vale a triumphant grin.

Vale had never been smiled at by a mortal before. His brief encounters with mortals usually included screaming, running, and occasionally a meal. They were decent food, if Vale could be bothered to make the journey to the mortal realm.

“What did I tell you?” the mage declared, lifting his staff. There was a vial tied onto the end that dangled annoyingly every time it moved.

“He appears, just as I proclaimed!” the mage continued. “Another victory for the Circle of the Jeweled Fist.”

A reverent murmur echoed around the group huddled behind them. Vale paid them no mind. He was transfixed by the mysterious woman on the stone slab.

She was terrified. He could smell it on her sweat-slick skin. But for some reason, it hardly showed on her face. If he couldn't smell the fear rolling off of her in waves, he would think she was merely nervous.

“Mighty Skullstalker,” the mage declared. “I am Christopher Silverpetal! I present my dutiful niece, whom I prize above all things, as a sacrifice.”

The woman’s face went pale. She looked over at her uncle in alarm. “Trade! You said trade!”

“A trade, of course.” Christopher bowed his head to Vale. “My apologies, Skullstalker. My tongue slipped. My point is, she is yours. Take her back to your wilderness void and do whatever you wish with her. In exchange, you will give my circle a boon.”

“A boon,” Vale repeated suspiciously.

“Yes!” Christopher straightened his shabby robes eagerly. Even that small movement made the vial dangling from his staff swing irritatingly, and Vale had to resist the urge to snap it off so it would stop distracting him.

“Your wilderness void hosts many strange and powerful plants,” Christopher continued. “We would have whatever is best to defeat our enemies. Poisons that have no antidote in our realm. Wood that cannot be burned by mortal fire. Pollen that explodes in burning toxins! Do you have these?”

“I have many dangerous plants,” Vale admitted. “But none of them have been tested on mortals.”

“That’s fine!” Christopher grinned harder. Another drop of sweat ran down his face, plastering his red hair to his forehead. “Whatever you grant us, we will be eternally grateful.”

Vale growled, considering. He had never entered into a deal with mortals in the past. But he could spare some plants—more than a few, as his void was so overgrown. Whoever the mortals wished to kill with those plants was none of his business.

But the woman…

He could eat her. He was overdue for a meal. He last ate weeks ago, or possibly months.

Or, Vale thought, remembering his light-mote assistants who had died so long ago.

I could take her as an assistant. If he had someone else to help—even a mortal, who was so much smaller and less capable—he could even get his void under control.

Make it balanced and content again, the way it used to be.

Vale loomed over the stone slab. The young woman flinched, pulling her limbs in like she wanted to curl into a ball, only to be stopped by the ropes. Her face betrayed only a hint of the primal fear he could smell on her. It was overpowering, even thicker than the blood dripping from her arm.

She must have volunteered, Vale decided. Otherwise, she would be screaming and struggling for her freedom. A brave thing to do, with her uncle insisting he could do whatever he wished to her once he brought her back to his void.

Vale straightened. The group of humans—the Circle, as Christopher had called them—gripped their weapons warily, watching Christopher for an order.

“I will need time,” Vale told Christopher. “To gather your boon.”

“That’s fine!” Christopher said again, his face ruddy with leftover perspiration from channeling the Summoning spell. “Actually, we have a date. One month from now.”

“One month,” Vale repeated. He looked at the evening sky, considering. Time ran out of step with the mortal realm in many Skullstalker voids, but his void was not one of them. “That is acceptable.”

Christopher nodded, the vial tied to his staff swinging wildly with the motion. “Fantastic! So, do you accept our trade?”

He gestured at his niece, who stared up at Vale nervously.

Something foreign stirred in Vale’s chest. Her eyes were huge and full of tears, which she was trying desperately to blink back. Vale was struck by their intense green, so much brighter than her uncle’s. If they got any brighter, they could even rival his own.

“Mighty Skullstalker?” Christopher prompted.

Vale tore his gaze away from the woman’s fearful face. “I accept.”

Christopher sagged in relief. “That’s wonderful. Isn’t that wonderful, everyone?”

He turned to his Circle behind him. The group made noises of agreement, though none of them let go of their weapons.

Christopher gave them a brash grin. Then he jogged up to Vale, motioning for him to lean down.

It was such an absurd request that Vale considered eating him for it.

Then he leaned down obediently, curious what this sweaty mage would say and still tempted to snatch that annoying vial swinging from his staff.

Christopher spoke softly. “Do yourself a favor, don’t eat her first thing. I am assured my niece has many skills. You will find her very useful.”

There was something pointed under his words. Vale could not figure out what. He straightened and turned toward the woman, one sharp claw outstretched.

She flinched again, then forced herself to stay still.

Vale watched her with detached interest as he sliced through her bindings.

He could not help but wonder what she was thinking.

He had not told them what he was planning, after all.

For all she knew, he planned to devour her the moment he took her back to his void, as her uncle assumed.

The last silk rope snapped. Vale lifted the woman into his arms, surprised by how light she was. He had never held a human before. This one was satisfyingly plump, more so than any mortal of Christopher’s Circle. But she fit easily in his arms, barely heavier than a spinetree branch.

Vale resumed his spot in the middle of the bloody Summoning circle the mortals had drawn into the dirt.

“Until next time, dearest niece,” Christopher called, waving his staff at her.

The woman lifted a timid hand, red with her own blood.

“Farewell,” she called cautiously.

Vale closed his eyes and thought of his void.

The dirt opened up and swallowed him, and the woman in his arms gasped and clung to him. Before he could assure her that all was well, they were rising again—this time out of the silver pool he had stepped into minutes before.

The comforting scent of his void washed over him, all sulphur and ash. He had been amongst it for so long, he had forgotten what it was like without it.

“We are here,” he announced, depositing the human woman onto the mossy ground.

She stood, wobbling. For a moment, she merely gaped at their surroundings: leaves dripping darkness, boneplants glowing silver, dark birds flying overhead, the silver pool they had stepped out of. Everything thrummed with an invisible pulse that could only be described as a heartbeat.

However, she could not sense the thrum. She was only mortal, after all. But there was a moment where she stared behind them into the silver pool they had entered through, and she looked almost… enchanted. Like this void was not to be feared, but to be cherished.

Then that moment ended.

The woman whirled to him, her terror thick in the air. “D-don’t eat me yet, okay?”

Vale wondered who the Circle of the Jeweled Fist was trying to kill. They must be important if they were willing to risk her.

“I have many skills,” the woman blurted, brushing her crimson hair out of her face and only succeeding in smearing her bloody arm across her cheek. She winced, wiping it off her face. “I’m a hard worker! I can set traps, and make clothes, and read—”

Vale cut her off. “I did not bring you here to eat you.”

“Oh!” The woman did not look relieved, though she was still trying to hide her fear. She actually smiled this time, small and tremulous. “What did you bring me here for?”

Her uncle’s words echoed through Vale’s head: she has many skills. Why did he think her uncle was not talking about her ability to read?

The woman stared up at him, those green eyes so alluring that Vale almost found himself leaning in.

Almost.

“To tend the void,” Vale said instead. “I need an assistant.”