I eased her down onto her back and settled over her, cupping her face in my hands. Her hair was falling out of its elegant arrangement, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted. I kissed her slowly and deeply, and she arched her back, pressing her body more firmly against mine.
Her moan drove me wild. Every time she’d moaned at the dinner table after tasting a new food, I’d fantasized about her making the same sound when tasting me. Now she was here, exactly where I wanted her, and she radiated desire like a blazing star. I could practically see the light.
Wait. Icouldperceive light through my eyelids. What in the world…?
I pushed myself up, eyes shooting open. White light bathed the clearing, and a second later, I saw its source.
The Cynthian stag.
It stepped between the trees, appearing almost as if it had been born from beams of starlight. Pure white fur shimmered with an inner glow that cast gentle illumination across the forest floor, making the clover look like scattered emeralds. Its antlers rose like living crystal, branching toward the heavens in elegant angles that caught and refracted light across the trees.
It was nibbling on the leaves, the soft crunching carrying through the silence. Its long legs moved gracefully yet unhurriedly. It was unaware of the hunt, unsuspecting of the danger surrounding it.
Emmeline gasped softly beneath me, and the stag’s head snapped toward us.
I didn’t move. For a moment, the entire forest seemed to hold still. The stag’s eyes were like pools of liquid silver and held something ancient, a reminder that magic was wilder and more mysterious than the crystal spells my people had refined.
After a long moment, the stag turned away and kept walking. Its glow retreated, and the shadows encroached once more. The far-off shouts and laughter of the other hunters reached my ears again. Had they fallen silent earlier, or had I simply not noticed them? It was like the stag’s appearance had momentarily transported us to another realm.
Emmeline pushed at my chest, and I climbed off her and helped her to her feet. The stag was still visible in the distance, shining like a star that had fallen between the trees.
“That’swhat we’re hunting?” Emmeline asked. “Someone’s really going to shoot it?”
“And eat it once it’s dead,” I said bitterly.
“That’s— That’s—”
“I know.”
The royal family hadn’t hosted a hunt in generations, but sadly, they were too popular a pastime for the queen’s mere disapproval to put a stop to them. She worried outlawing them would just drive them underground and make them more dangerous, so she worked to convince people they were barbaric. I doubted the hunts would end in her lifetime, but Cael might have a chance…
“I like the stag more than anyone I talked to at the party,” Emmeline said. “I don’t suppose it can gore people with those antlers?”
I shouldn’t have found her bloodthirstiness so attractive.
“It’s been known to happen.”
She crossed her arms. “Good. I hope—”
“There it is. There it is!”
Someone hissed the words about ten feet to our left. No, not just someone. I recognized that drunken slur. Aristoph. Which meant—
“I’ve got it,” he said. “I’ve— Shit, I don’t got it. Drudon—quick.”
Aristoph fumbled with his weapon, dropping it, but my brother held his bow steady. He expertly drew back the arrow to a point near his cheek, his bulky arms taut. His cruel eyes locked on the stag ahead.
Emmeline clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide with horror. The sight sparked a fire within me.
My bow and arrows lay on the ground. I dove for them, rolling, and rose to my knees with the bow raised. In one fluid motion, I drew the arrow back. I had less than the space of a heartbeat to aim.
The faint twang of Drudon’s bowstring reached my ears, and I released my arrow. It sliced through the air, and a hundred different worries and hopes flashed through my mind.
My arrow struck Drudon’s midair, shattering it.
The stag bolted away like a shooting star streaking across the sky, gone in less than a moment.
“Ha!” Aristoph cried. “I’ve got— Shit!”
