“What?” She sounds simultaneously breathless and frustrated.
“I said go inside,” I repeat, leaving no room for negotiation.
“You can’t just—”
Spinning around, my next words are fueled by fear alone because I have no idea what it could mean if someone’s been able to cross the castle’s threshold. “You’ve made it abundantly clear that you are a prisoner here.Myprisoner. So do what you’re told and go the fuck inside.” I bark.
Flinching back from the harshness in my words, Azalea gives me one last look, but it isn’t filled with any kind of rage or fury. It’s so much worse. She looks at me with utter disappointment, before dropping her head, picking her skirts up, and turning to leave.
I don’t have time to ruminate on how I could have better handled that situation, though. Once Azalea is out of sight, I stalk into the trees behind me. My eyes scour the ground to find the snapped twigs that I heard, and when I can’t find them, I start to wonder if my sanity needs to be called into question. Just when I’m about to give up hope, I notice a set of smeared tracks in the distance. As I get closer, I see two different snapped twigs, not far apart. Bending down, I pick up the stick, the cool mud on it coating my fingertips. The tracks in front of me have been trampled too aggressively for me to be able to tell the direction they went or if they belonged to an animal or a man. Dropping the stick back on the ground, I let out a low groan.
Not only did I ruin any progress I was making with Azalea, but now I have to figure out who or what was on my castle grounds, and, more importantly, how they were able to get in here.
18
Braxton
“She’srefusing,yourhighness.”Gravely stands in front of me. I study his face, wondering when he started to look so weathered and worn.
“What do you mean she’s refusing?” I snap, my jaw tensing.
“She said that if the dinners are not a part of the curse agreement, then she has no obligation to be here.”
My frustration builds. I can’t help but feel I’ve set any progress I’ve made with Azalea back even further than we were only a few days ago. At least when I closed the library, she still came to dinner.
“She has to come to dinner. She—” I stop myself, not wanting to say anything that could get back to her. “Forget it.”
I crumple my napkin and toss it on the table over top of my untouched food. I can’t eat anyway. And I know I won’t sleep. Not while something or someone stalks my castle grounds. I will not be prey in my own home.
“Gravesley, get a group of men together.”
“Your highness?”
“We’re going hunting.”
I stand from the table and head to my room. I need to change if I plan to track down whatever is out there.
My door slams behind me as my mounting irritation feeds the beast ready to rage inside of me. Irritation at Azalea for refusing to come to dinner. Irritation with myself for what I said to her at the picnic. Irritation at whatever interrupted us when I was so close to being able to feel her lips against mine.
I drag my shirt over my head, catching my reflection in the mirror across my room. My eyes look over the small tattoo on my chest. A small line of numbers. Numbers that mock me every day now. I turn to look at the insignia on my back. The beautiful swirling pattern that spreads across my shoulder blade and up my neck. Make that two markings that mock me every day. My eyes drag over to the bouquet of forget-me-nots on the back of my right arm. My most recent tattoo, and the one that’s tied to my most painful memories.
I hastily grab another shirt to cover the traitorous ink permanently etched into my skin. The sudden urge to hunt something, leaves me with an odd sense of gratitude at the intruder roaming my castle grounds. By the time I make it down the stairs, there is a small group of men with various weapons standing by the door.
“Alright, listen up. Something broke past the border on the castle grounds, and to keep this castle safe we need to eradicate whatever it is. So, stay alert and prepare yourself for an attack. Pick a partner and watch each other’s backs. Call for help once you find it.”
Not a particularly good speech, but it covers the basics well enough.
“What exactly are we looking for?” one of the burlier men asks. I would send him away for asking such a dimwitted question, but I decide against it seeing as we will most likely need his muscle power.
“If I knew that, I would have shared that information.” I give him an exasperated look. ”Now, go. Call for me if you find anything.”
I take a couple of men with me, and I start where I first heard the creature in the woods. My boots sink into the muddied ground as we walk deeper into the depths of the trees lining the outskirts of the castle grounds. While I’ve had the groundskeepers do a well enough job of tending to the lavish gardens roaming the immediate expanse of the castle, I must admit, I’ve let the forest brimming around the borders become heavy with overgrowth. The dark magic that lines the border due to the curse has made some of the trees become gnarled and knotted together, making it even more difficult to hunt through the lush forestry.
Surprisingly, even with the setting sun taking the daylight away from me, it doesn’t take long for me to find the tracks again, and I can see there are more now. The new tracks are more distinct, making it easy to identify them as paw prints.
As I’m examining the direction of the prints more closely, I hear the low rumbles of a growl nearby. Making sure not to make any sudden movements, I lift my head and see three large wolves pacing ahead of us. They’re just barely inside the perimeter of land that I once called home, their eyes fixed on me. Each wolf has startlingly white fur and blazing pale blue eyes. Eyes that are trained on me. Eyes that have found their next target and are arguably just as starved for a hunt as I am.
My surprise is due to a number of things. That more than one animal intruded past the magic of the castle grounds, and that it happens to be wolves, which are built for a winter climate.
