James went on. “And if it can do that…why are we even here? Why are we starving these creatures to an inch of their lives if the monster can run amok as it pleases, gobbling up the freshest fare?” He took another long pull of rum, anger written in the set of his jaw. His eyes had become glossy with drink, his pupils so wide they nearly filled the rim of his irises. He ran a hand through his hair which revealed a mark on his neck, just under his ear. It was a brand. AnR.
Teryn didn’t think his blood could go any colder. His kingdom didn’t brand their criminals but he knew Khero did. He also knew what thatRlikely stood for. Add to that the way James talked about unicorns—starving them, harvesting them for some monster, holding them down, wielding a knife…
He didn’t see the full picture James was painting, but the edges were becoming clear.
Teryn looked across the fire to where Helios was chatting amiably with a hunter named Gringe—the one who had questioned them when they first arrived. Helios caught his stare and narrowed his eyes. He grinned then, and there was something sinister in the curve of his lips. In the way he held Teryn’s gaze without falter as he continued to chat. It was a dare of sorts. A silent confession. Teryn’s fingers curled into fists, his eyes narrowing right back. He understood then that Helios knew exactly what James had been referring to, whether he’d heard their conversation or not. Helios knew whatever the harvest was, what the monster was, and what it took to manually remove a unicorn’s horn.
Teryn suspected Helios had kept the information to himself less out of a need for control and more because—had he told Teryn the truth—perhaps he never would have come.
Cora’s angerreached new bounds as she watched the prince mingle with the men he’d sworn he didn’t belong to. When she’d confronted him, she’d asked who he worked for. He’d said no one. She’d reached out to him with her senses, felt nothing to suggest he’d been lying. Clearly he had.
She glared at him from her hiding place in her tree, smirking as she watched him press the poisoned bottle to his lips. He’d get his due soon enough.
She’d been waiting in her tree since before dusk, hoping tonight her plan would finally come to fruition. Her relief had been palpable when the hunters were back to their crass, rowdy selves upon returning from the day’s hunt. That meant tonight the Beast would not come. However, she nearly gasped out loud when she saw Prince Teryn Alante enter the clearing, his companion bearing a writ marked with Duke Morkai’s sigil. Was Teryn Alante even the man’s real name? Had he lied about being a prince too? She supposed it didn’t matter now. He’d sealed his fate when he drank the rum.
Her heart clenched at the thought. But why? Why did she recoil at the idea of him dying by her clandestine machinations? He may not have borne a brand like the other hunters, but was he any different on the inside? She could admit, he didn’t look altogether comfortable. She only wished she could hear what he and James were whispering about. The other men were too loud, too boisterous.
The branch shuddered above her. At first, all she saw was shadow, but her breath caught as she made out the shape of a falcon amongst the pine boughs, its condemning eyes locked on her.
What do you want?she tried to convey, but this animal wasn’t like Valorre. It couldn’t understand her. Still, she was pretty sure she could understandit. The falcon curled her talons around the branch, inched down its length until she was a foot over Cora’s head. A silent threat. Cora held her gaze, daring her to try anything. The bird may have had talons, but Cora was armed too. Her bow wouldn’t serve her at this range, but her knife or dagger could. Even so, she had no desire to fight off a falcon at all.
“It’s too late,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.” She doubted the bird could understand her, even when speaking out loud. The falcon made no further move. Instead, she turned her head, nestling down as if preparing to nap.
A thud struck the earth at the base of the tree. She startled, as did the bird. But as she peered into the dark, she saw it was Paul, who’d once again been on perimeter duty. Now he lay facedown in the dirt, his flask in his hand.
She didn’t need to open her senses to know he was dead. Cold sweat pricked her neck as she stared down at the body. She’d done that. Her hand had brewed the decoction, poisoned the liquor. Her actions and intentions had snuffed out life in an instant.
Killing Erwin was one thing. He’d directly threatened her, attacked Valorre.
But Paul…
He’s no better than Erwin, she reminded herself. Perhaps he had no personal qualms with Cora, directed no immediate threat her way. But he was not only a convicted murderer but a willing participant in the hunt. He’d captured fae creatures, trapped them with iron, denied them food and water. He’d stood by while the Beast devoured the unicorns.
Her guilt faded into a cold and deadly calm.
Setting her jaw, she returned her gaze to the camp and waited for the next body to fall.
23
Teryn watched James die. He hadn’t realized that was what had happened, at first. When James had begun to slump to the side in the middle of his story—something Teryn was grateful for, considering the repulsive subject matter the man favored—it seemed James had just fallen asleep. It wasn’t until another man toppled over. Then another. Teryn glanced at James with renewed interest, saw the blue tinge to his lips, his open eyes that stared sightlessly ahead.
With a jolt, Teryn rose to his feet, just as two more men fell. The camp burst into fits of commotion as the remaining men ran to their comrades, checking their pulses, shouting panicked orders at each other.
Teryn’s eyes darted around, then landed on Helios. Suspicion crawled up his spine. Helios, however, looked just as perplexed as Teryn. Heavy brow furrowed, Helios stood frozen as another man collapsed, fingers clawing at his throat as his face turned blue.
“What the hell is going on?” came Lex’s voice as he sprang up from his bedroll. His question went unanswered.
Only three of the hunters remained breathing. Gringe, Hammond, and a man named Sam. Gringe and Sam were distracted by their fallen brethren, but Hammond was backing away from the fire. Toward his crossbow.
Teryn palmed the hilt of his belted dagger, edging slowly toward his horse, where he’d left his shortsword and spear with his saddlebags. Lex simply stared at the horror unfolding around them, muttering curses under his breath.
One step. Two steps. The next brought him to his horse?—
Hammond cocked his crossbow, loaded a bolt, and aimed at Lex. He swayed slightly on his feet before planting his legs firmly beneath him. “I thought you were supposed to be mute, boy.”
Lex’s hand flew to his hip, but he too had come to the campfire unarmed. Hammond squeezed the trigger on his crossbow, but Teryn already had his spear in hand. Hammond swayed again, and his bolt missed Lex by a foot. Teryn’s spear, on the other hand, did not miss. It struck the center of Hammond’s gut. The man looked down, staggering once more. Gringe and Sam whirled away from their companions. Gringe’s sword was drawn, while Sam unsheathed his dagger. Unlike Hammond, neither man seemed affected by whatever had felled their friends.
Helios already had his sword drawn by the time Gringe rounded on him. “Did you poison our meal?” Gringe said as steel met steel. “Or our rum?”
