5. The Hunt
Chapter five
The Hunt
Maddox
The wind howled like a god mourning. Maddox didn’t hear it; he didn’t feel the cold of the winter’s first frost.
His horse pounded the frost-dusted path, hooves eating distance toward the Warden's Reach. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t breathed right since they found her chamber empty. The beasts in the forest, hidden in the treelines, were restless with the aura Maddox and Arley were projecting.
Arley rode beside him, cloak snapping like a banner of vengeance. He wasn’t smiling. The usual light in his eyes was gone, replaced by a storm of gray in his red eyes.
They rode hard, cutting through forest and frozen rivers, ice crunching below them echoing through the night. Leaving the Fifth Throne’s safety behind. Diplomacy was for rulers.
“Do you feel it?” Arley shouted over the wind.
Maddox nodded once—the pull.
Not magic. Not prophecy. Their bond, a thread yanked too tight between them. She was alive. But the distance between them seared like a wound. The bond was weak, but it's enough to keep them going.
By sunrise, the first Spade checkpoint came into view—a stark, frozen outpost marking the edge of the Crimson Deep and Heartlands territories. The wind howled, biting at their skin. The only thing that burned was the fury building in their chests, propelling them forward like predators on the hunt.
The checkpoint lay ahead: six Spade soldiers, standing rigid in the road, spears raised to block their passage. Their armor rattled, the tips of their weapons gleaming in the weak winter morning light.
“Halt! No Heart dogs pass without clearance.” One of the soldiers barked, voice laced with forced authority.
Maddox didn’t break stride. His eyes locked on the checkpoint, face cold and unreadable. He dropped from his saddle without a word, boots crunching into the frost as he landed on the ground. Arley was right behind him, pulling his daggers, eyes glinting with quiet menace.
The first soldier thrust his spear forward.
Maddox caught the shaft barehanded, pulling it with brutal force, yanking the man toward him.
A headbutt came next, the crunch of metal against skull ringing in the air.
The soldier crumpled, blood spraying across the white snow, his body falling in a heap.
Another soldier lunged at Maddox, but he was faster.
With one swift motion, he seized the soldier by the throat, slamming him against a wooden post so hard that the wood cracked.
The soldier gasped, his hand clutching at Maddox’s arm, trying to break free, but it was futile.
Maddox’s knee drove into the man’s ribs, and a sickening crack filled the air.
The soldier’s body slumped lifeless, leaving a red smear on the snow.
Arley was already moving with lethal grace, twin daggers flashing like steel lightning.
He buried one blade deep into a guard’s eye socket, the man’s scream cutting short as Arley twisted it, ending the pain with a clean slice to the throat.
The next soldier barely had time to register what was happening before Arley sliced through his hamstrings and kicked him face-first into the snow.
Maddox stood over the carnage, his gaze locked on the last standing soldier.
The man trembled, his spear now useless in his hand.
He looked at the massacre around him, fear and terror etched on his face.
Maddox didn’t flinch. His blade gleamed darkly in the pale sunlight as he walked toward the last soldier.
“Where is Ace Spade?” Maddox growled, his voice low, dangerous, as he seized the man by the collar, lifting him off the ground. The soldier’s eyes bulged as he stared up at Maddox, his breath shallow with fear.
The soldier stammered, voice thick with terror. “P–P-Prince Ace is… off the castle grounds. Last seen three days ago. There’s no record of him being in the Dominion.” His words tumbled out, desperate to give anything that might save him from the same brutal fate as his comrades.
Maddox’s grip tightened on the soldier’s collar, pulling him closer, his blade still poised under the man’s chin. “I don’t believe you,” he said through clenched teeth. “We know you’re tracking him. Why else would you be this close to the border? Don’t waste my time.”
Arley stepped forward, a dark grin twisting his lips as he flicked one of his daggers in the air. “Tell us what we want to know,” he said, his voice calm, but his eyes glinted with deadly intent.
The soldier’s eyes darted between the two, sweat forming on his brow despite the cold. “I… I swear I don’t know! Prince Ace... He’s been out of contact. No one knows where he is,” the soldier stammered, his voice shaking as he tried to backpedal.
Arley’s eyes hardened, and he pressed the tip of the second dagger against the soldier’s stomach, just enough to make him flinch. “Wrong answer,” he whispered, twisting the blade slowly. The soldier gasped, his breath hitching in pain.
Maddox’s patience snapped. With one fluid motion, he drove his blade up into the man’s shoulder, the edge cutting deep into flesh but sparing the vital organs. The soldier screamed in agony as blood spilled from the wound, staining the snow beneath him.
“Let him go,” Maddox’s voice was commanding and harsh. He released the soldier’s collar, letting him slump to his knees, choking on his own blood. The man’s body trembled as he clutched at the gash in his shoulder, eyes wide with terror.
Maddox’s voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “Get up. And take a message back to Cyrus.”
The soldier’s eyes flicked to Maddox, pleading, but Maddox’s cold gaze held him in place. “Tell him... we’re coming for his son. And his throne.”
Arley’s grin was wild, the blood still fresh on his hands. He wiped his blades clean on a fallen soldier’s cloak and gave the wounded man a mocking salute. “Tell your king that the Heartlands won’t bend to threats. No more games.”
The soldier nodded frantically, struggling to stand, his legs shaking as he stumbled backward, leaving a trail of red behind him in the snow. His eyes never left Maddox or Arley as he staggered toward the edge of the checkpoint, his breath ragged, filled with fear.
“Go,” Maddox said, his voice as cold as the winter air. “And don’t come back.”
The soldier didn’t look back, but the message was clear: Cyrus would get the warning, and this time, there would be no hiding.
As the man disappeared into the distance, Arley turned to Maddox, his face hard. “Think he’ll make it to Cyrus?”
Maddox’s gaze remained fixed on the horizon, his mind sharp with the weight of the coming storm. “He’ll make it,” he said, his voice steady but laced with a quiet fury. “And when he does, Cyrus will know we’re coming for him. For his son. And for whatever scheme he’s trying to play now.”
Arley’s grin widened, dark and knowing. “You think he’ll keep hiding behind that veil of power?
He’s probably already got plans to drag Scarlett back to the Spade stronghold, or worse, try and force that damn wedding on her again.
” He spat on the snow, as if the thought itself was poison.
“Cyrus won’t rest until he has control over everything — her, Ace, the Deep.
And if he thinks Ace is the key to all of this, he’s about to find out how wrong he is. ”
Maddox’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t just hunting for Scarlett. He was hunting for justice. “Cyrus wants to rewrite the rules. Wants to turn her into another pawn in his game. But if he thinks he can just walk in and take her, he’ll regret it.”
Arley adjusted the hilt of his dagger, eyes flashing with a dangerous glint. “I’ll make sure he does.”
The hunt had begun in earnest, and Maddox knew there would be no turning back. Cyrus was playing a dangerous game, and Maddox and Arley were ready to flip the board.
Nothing would stop them now. Not Cyrus. Not his lies. Not even the kingdom that had once been theirs for the taking.