“What the fuck?”
The animal is giving contented little squeaks, and nuzzling its downy head against the hunter’s massive palm. Then it fixes me with huge, adorable eyes.
“A baby?” I mutter, incredulous.
The hunter nods, then looks up and around before setting off.
I follow him, staying a few paces behind, adrenaline still coursing through me. When he signals me to stop, I do, waiting and watching as he creeps forward a few more feet before setting the baby creature gently down on a patch of grass.
He’s so tender, it makes my chest hurt.
Then he retreats, walking backwards to where I’m standing, as sure-footed as if he had eyes in the back of his head.
A few moments later, an ear-splitting shriek rents the air, and I clutch the hunter’s arm as a creature I can only assume is the baby’s mother swoops down on huge, leathery wings. With long, curved talons, she snatches the infant off the ground and flies on, disappearing into the lilac sky.
Lilac? How did I not notice that before? I guess I was distracted by the multiple suns.
I let out a long, shuddering sigh. “Thank you,” I tell the hunter. I don’t know how much danger I was actually in—maybe the baby animal wasn’t as toxic as it looked—but the way he rescued me and handled the situation was something else.
One thing’s for sure, he has a good heart.
“Come,” he tells me, and takes my hand.
I expected to be scolded for running away, for not staying to watch him make his kill, but all he does is lead me back to the cave. We have to go past the clearing where we sighted the giraffe-like animal, and even though I had promised myself I wouldn’t look, I can’t help it.
A swift glance tells me all I need to know: he felled it. God knows how precise his aim has to be if he can bring down an animal that size with a weapon the size of his hand, but I refuse to think any more about it.
Once we’re back in the cave, he gets more drink-fruit out of the chest and hands me one. “Food?” he asks, and I shake my head. My stomach is still roiling. I’m thirsty but not hungry.
“No thanks,” I tell him.
I slurp the fruit dry, staring at the shadows flickering on the walls of the cave. This place is too cold and bare. I could pile the furs up in the corner and burrow beneath them. It would be warm, although something would be missing. But what?
I have a sudden longing for a bed of unicorn stuffies. Weird thing to want, but maybe I’m craving a reminder of home. Even though home is a far off memory, like a movie I watched long ago. A movie I liked but have no real attachment to.
The hunter is squatting in front of me. He’s been there for some time, watching me like a wolf watches a rabbit. I’m so out of it, I didn’t notice. His brow furrows and he touches my cheek. There’s a surge in my lower belly. I want him. I could easily get wet for him. But the cave is too chilly and something’s… just not right.
The hunter leans forward, concern in his hazel eyes. I look away.
He rises and moves swiftly around the cave, dousing the fire and extracting a fur from the pile of them.
“What are we doing now?” I ask in a listless voice, not expecting a reply.
He approaches me, and wraps me in the fur, pressing an unexpected kiss to my forehead. Then he throws on a long, green cloak with a deep hood so his face is in shadow when he finally answers me. “Palace.”
“Really?” A palace sounds promising. Maybe there, I’ll finally get some answers.
NINE
The Hunter King
Takingthe Omega’s little hand, I lead her out the back, secret entrance to my cave lair, relieved to see my tyrlee has answered my call. As long as she is within a certain distance, I can call her with my mind, just as I can make the vines move. I speak to the forest and the forest speaks to me. I learned this language before any other.
Last night, lying with my Omega in my arms, I remembered a mother whispering to me, tucking my small body against her soft warmth. She sang to me.
I have not remembered anything like that in a long time. I’ve lived so long in the forest, it became my home, my mother and father. My connection to it fades when I return to the palace, but it will never be severed. No matter how many people call me the Wild One and think I’m a barbarian. No matter how the councilors whisper behind my back about my strange ways.
At the thought of them waiting for me back at the palace, I suppress a shudder. Going there is the last thing I want to do, but the cave is too primitive for my delicate lysia flower. She needs warmth and a place to nest.
