Alarik’s eyes went wide, as he took in the scene unfolding before him. The animals were bolting back down the mountain, leaving his wrangler alone on the rocky slope.
Weaponless, and without a mount.
Regna’s prized warrior was thundering towards her.
On the slope above him, the queen of Vask was laughing. More soldiers were gathering at her back. They must have been hiding on the other side of the summit. She was never truly at Alarik’s mercy. No, she had made a distraction of herself, luring him away from the bulk of his army. From his wrangler. ‘If I can’t have my dragon, then I’ll take someone just as valuable from you!’
Horror sluiced through Alarik.
The Spear wasn’t here to kill the king of Gevra.
He was here to capture his wrangler.
CHAPTER 30
Greta
The Gevran army was teetering on the cusp of victory when a terrible shriek rang out, pounding them like a wave. The animals bolted for the flatlands, leaving Greta alone on the mountainside. She whirled, calling for them to stay and finish the battle, but her orders were lost to that torturous blare. Her head was throbbing, her knees trembling beneath her. She couldn’t think, couldn’t focus.
She scrunched her fists, fighting for control of her senses. The horn petered out, leaving its taunting echo inside her helmet. She ripped it off and cast it aside, gasping a steadying breath. The cold wind whipped her face, and the clash of sword fighting filtered back in. Instinctively, she whipped her head around, searching for the king.
Up the mountain, Queen Regna was retreating into the fray of more Vaskan soldiers. Alarik was still on his feet, flanked now by his sister and Captain Vine who were fighting their way up the slope. Relief rushed through Greta, until she noticed his sword was slack at his side. He wasn’t fighting alongside his soldiers. He was frozen in horror, staring in her direction.
A gasp filled Greta’s throat as she spotted a terrifying figure – no, agiant– charging towards her. He wore no helmet, his bearded face bared to the elements, his long dark hair riding the wind. He raised his spear, the silver tip as menacing as the glint in his eyes. She had seen that same look before countless times, but never on the face of a man. This creature was going to strike her. Maim her,killher.
He was a hunter, and she was his prey.
Greta screamed for her beasts – foranyone– to come back for her, but the strange horn at his hip had done its work. Even the birds had fled.
She turned on her heel and ran, barrelling down the mountain so fast, she tripped over a jutting rock. Her ankle twisted underneath her, and pain shot up her leg. She scrabbled to her feet and pushed on, gritting through the discomfort.
Momentum shoved her down the mountain, but the beasts were so very far from her now, and the giant’s footsteps were pounding harder, closer. Tears streamed down her face as she ran, the world blurring out of focus.
She knew she wasn’t going to make it. Without a beast, she wasn’t fast enough or strong enough. But she refused to give up, even as she heard the slow heave of his breath behind her, the determined crunch of his footsteps like a cruel countdown to her death.
She risked a glance over her shoulder to find those violent eyes barely a stone’s throw away. She drew her sword, bringing it up against her chest. Bracing for the strike of his spear.
He growled as he leaped at her. She was slammed into the earth, the sword flung aside as her face collided with the cold,hard rock. She tried to raise her dizzying head, but he shoved it back down, fisting his hand in her hair.
‘Stay,’ he grunted.
Like hell she would. Greta bucked against him, screaming into the dirt as she thrashed and twisted. He flipped her over, his hand coming to her throat as he pinned her. It was like being crushed by a boulder, her breath leaving her in a painful wheeze.
‘Queen Regna wants her new wrangler in one piece.’ He pressed his forehead against hers, his spittle landing on her cheeks. ‘So,behave.’
The beast inside Greta reared up. She spat in his face. ‘Get off me!’
‘Unruly little wolf.’ He bared a mouthful of steel teeth. ‘She never said you had to be awake.’
Before Greta could react, he smashed his forehead into hers. She reeled backwards, pain spiderwebbing up the back of her skull. Stars wheeled in the sides of her vision, the world growing dark, until there was only the tip of his spear at her throat, and the distant cry of her name on the wind.
Then, there was blackness.
And after that – nothing.
CHAPTER 31
Alarik
