But no sign of the Seer.
I slowed my pace to a walk, listening for labored breaths or low whimpers. Snapping branches had me whirling around. Silver flickered in the rising light.
I stalked toward the strand of hair. When ghostflower caressed my nostrils, I knew without a doubt it belonged to Sylaira. My blood heated.
“This way,” I growled to Ilae, a thrill sweeping down my spine.
The hunt was on again. And I hadn’t been this excited about one since…ever. My senses were on high alert, prepared to note the slightest change in the air, movement in the distance, or shifting of the sun overhead.
Ilae hummed from somewhere close by—and then I heard it. The frantic breath. The pulse of fear that was unmistakable in the stillness.
I crept forward on silent feet, not wanting to inform the fugitive of my approach.
The smell of her grew stronger, driven through the air by her panic. It wasdecadent. I inhaled it, intoxicated. So much so that I didn’t mind my step. A crack rent the air.
She bolted, not even five paces away from me.
Fuck.
I leaped, snatching for her sleeve, but she must have sensed my movement. At the last moment, she twirled. My fingers swept through empty air. Eyes shut, she faced me for the briefest of moments.
And I wasstruck.
She should have looked fragile. Naive, even. Instead, her expression was defiance incarnate. A challenge I’d waited centuries to meet.
If I’d been obsessed with her scent alone before, it was nothing compared to the possession that crawled into my soul then. A heart shaped face, complemented by plush lips and long lashes that caressed elegant cheekbones. Her throat, delicate and exposed, made me want to sink my teeth there.
And the way she spun…
Like this hunt was nothing more than a complex dance, where two partners glided across a stage, speaking with their bodies until they werefinally united.
There was no doubt she was going to be mine once I caught her.
The agile little thing darted into some bushes, disappearing from my sight. I skidded in the dirt, sending earth flying, and pivoted to chase her.
Ilae glided overhead, keeping a close eye on her progress.
But the forest thickened as we worked our way south, overgrown and wild, like not even the animals ventured here. Nettles and thorny plants slashed my bare arms and cheeks, healing magic rising to soothe the stings as they accumulated.
The bramble broke a dozen paces from the edge of a cliff.
And there, silver hair blowing in a gust of wind, was Sylaira. Half-facing us, half-facing whatever lay below, her teeth dug into her bottom lip.
Of course, she’d rather fucking kill herself than be captured.
“Do not move,” I threatened, slowing my pace and holding my hands up like I was going to unleash my magic and capture her to me.
Her gaze tracked across the ground to my boots. It did not lift to my face.
I took a slow step forward. Ilae rustled his feathers and settled onto a branch, clicking.
“What’s your plan, little fugitive? Jump and die?”
She didn’t reply. But the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the scent of fear that dusted the air, told me everything I needed to know.
“I’ll catch you if you fall,” I taunted, closing more distance between us.
A sharp, derisive laugh slipped out of her. “I’d rather let the rocks do that.”
