‘You shouldn’t let me do this,’ I say, pulling her dress back up, enjoying the feel of her skin against my hands even as I awkwardly pull the straps back onto her shoulders. Tonight isn’t about Cillian Hunter. Tonight, I am the Unseelie Huntsman and I have a duty to fulfil. With every moment that passes, my human persona is slipping away, giving precedence to the Huntsman, making way for my duty to The Unseelie Court.
‘I don’t want to die. Tell me what it’ll take to…’ She’s staring up at me, no longer at my face, but at just beyond that, to where I can feel the aura of Cernunnos materialising. The god of the hunt wears the antlers of the mightiest, most noble prey in this land that he hunted and killed with his bare hands. He wears its antlers and hide to celebrate his victory, his dominance over nature. I would rather dominate Niamh in any way but the way fate has forced me.
Niamh reaches up as if to touch the antlers, then lets her hand drop. But she can’t possibly see them. No human should be able to see the embodiment of. It’s simply not possible. Or is it? After all, theGuth Dorchadidn’t work on her, not when I used it, not when Vittoria used it. But how? Has she spent so much time with Rose that she’s become sensitive to our world? Aiden’s background check didn’t throw up any prior links and everything about her tells me that she’s human.
‘What does it mean for you to hunt me?’ she asks, her eyes wide and terrified.
‘The evidence presented to the Court already has established your guilt.’ I shrug. ‘You get a chance to run. I hunt you down.’
‘And if you catch me?’
‘WhenI catch you,’ I correct. ‘When I catch you, it’s considered proof of your guilt and I’ll… I’ll know what to do.’
‘But what?’ I can see in her eyes, however, that she already knows.
‘I’m the Huntsman, Niamh. Dispensing the Court’s justice… It’s what I do.’
‘Please, Cillian,’ she whispers. ‘I don’t want to die. I saved Rose. Don’t you owe me something for that?’
Guilt fills me. I know she’s right. What can I say? But the man here in the woods with her is not simply Cillian. I’m the Kennard of my Kin. I sit on one of the eight remaining thrones of The Unseelie Court. I’m honour-bound to keep the Kinfolk safe by sacrificing… her. When I don’t respond, tears well in her eyes and spill unchecked as we stare at one another.
I close my eyes, regret filling my entire being. How the fuck did we end up here? This is the worst possible outcome I could have imagined.
Well, maybe not the worst– she could have ended up in the Rialis’ hands.
She shakes her head over and over and over, her eyes wide and terrified. ‘No. No, please. Don’t you… Don’t you want…’
‘Oh, I want, Niamh. I want very much,’ I say, reaching for the crossbow slung over my shoulder. ‘I just can’t have.’
‘You’re going to shoot me? With that?’ She’s held onto her dignity so far, but I can see just how close she is to breaking. But she doesn’t break. Her whole body is trembling, but her gaze doesn’t falter and I see the sort of backbone she would have had as a lawyer.
‘Cillian,’ Niamh whispers, falling to her knees in front of me. She doesn’t bow her head, she’s not giving in to this. She’s begging, hoping to appeal to the man she thought was me. I push him away and lock him down to do what has to be done.
I reach for her and haul her roughly to her feet. Then find I can’t let go. Her eyes are clouded with confusion, mist swirling around in their depths.
I’ve looked into these eyes so very many times before, although not enough. I have a feeling that even a lifetime with Niamh would never have been enough. But our time is already up. It has to be.
Can I do what I have to do? Vittoria isn’t wrong, it’s what The Unseelie Court demands. Humans cannot be allowed to kill Kin. I have no choice. I stare down at her. Her eyes widen as I step back and raise the crossbow. She backs away from me until she’s facing me across the clearing. A small path behind her leads into the depths of the forest. Tears are flowing down her face, and I can’t break her gaze.
‘Cillian?’ she whimpers.
‘I’m sorry, Niamh. I’m so fucking sorry. I should be down on my knees thanking you for saving Rose and instead—’ I break off.
I swing the crossbow into position and brace myself.
I swallow, my hand trembling for an instant, then I get it together. She’s only one woman, and there is so much more at stake here. She takes another step back and moonlight falls across her pale face. But no matter how much I deny it, there’s something about her. Something I don’t fully understand. I nock a bolt with practised precision, raise it and… pause.
Fuck. I really have found a line I cannot cross.
If she were Kin, she would have a chance to reach sanctuary before dawn. As a human, Niamh is unlikely to even reach the Underworld even though these woods are full of thin places. But without help, she doesn’t know how to use them and without the necessary words, she won’t be allowed into the sanctuary even if she finds it.
There’s a crashing sound from the woods in front of me and we both turn to watch as a huge white stag races towards us from the forest path. It skids to a halt at the edge of the clearing, right beside Niamh. It looks between us, perhaps trying to decide which of us is the bigger threat. Then the majestic animal looks over at Niamh before bowing its head, as if in acceptance of its sacrifice. I settle the stock against my shoulder, metal cold on my cheek as I align my eye with the sight. I steady my aim with a deep breath, my finger poised, ready to let loose the bolt.
‘Run!’ I yell at Niamh as I release the bolt. She turns and races down the forest path behind her, her footsteps a steady thud on the hard-packed surface of compressed pine needles as I pause, take a deep breath, aim, and let the bolt fly.
The deer stares at me, red blossoming between its eyes as it crumples to the forest floor, the bolt lodged directly between its eyes. I stand still listening to her footsteps recede into the depths of the forest, and a feeling sweeps through me that I struggle to name. And then I realise what it is. Joy. My mouth curves into a rare smile at the thought that she’s still breathing. Even if she’s running from me and in fear of her life.
I check that it’s a clean kill. I’ll come back later to deal with the deer, but for now I hide the carcass with Glamour and allow my primal instincts to rise to the surface and prepare to hunt.
