“Hopefully.”
“There’s still danger,” Silas admitted. “But a more calculated form of danger. When you enter into a hunting situation—whether you’re predator or prey—there’s no guaranteed outcome.”
I hesitated, then said, “I suppose that makes sense. But the nature of being a Fae Queen is about healing and protecting. The last thing I want to do is kill anything. That isnotin my nature.”
“I’m not the sort of Hunter who hunts for pleasure. I have Hunter blood in my veins, but I’ve spent decades working to control that. When I hunt, I have a purpose.” He glanced at me. “You eat meat, don’t you?”
I rolled my eyes. “I understand where meat and fish come from. I just don’t think I could be the one to pull the trigger, especially since that’s the exact opposite of everything I’m trying to achieve here on the island.”
“The part I want you to access is the anticipation. The preparation. The intense focus that comes with the chase.”
“But we’ll actually be hunting, right? I don’t know if I can agree to that. Unless we could use fake targets or something?”
Silas met my gaze with an uneasy stillness. “Without the true nature of hunting, the life-or-death situation, you won’t tap into the sort of powers you want to access. Without fear, adrenaline, and anticipation, I anticipate it will be a futile exercise.”
“That’s what I was afraid of. I don’t want to do it, Silas.”
He paused, considering. “I understand it’s a sacrifice, that it’s not something you want to do, but I think you should considerit. You can always decide not to pull the trigger in the moment. I would never force you to do anything. But it might help to get into the headspace of a Hunter.”
I considered his words carefully. Wasn’t that what I was supposed to be doing? Learning about other types of magic, creatures, cultures? Wasn’t a Hunter a new perspective? I was literallyfatedto be with a Hunter. It was something I’d need to learn to live with, a topic I’d need to better understand in a personal way too.
“Do you think I’m a bad person because I’m a Hunter?” Silas asked quietly.
“No. Of course not.”
Silas just nodded. I remembered the word he had used.Sacrifice.That was the right word. Seer Goddard had told me I was being selfish before, and maybe this was my moment to lean away from self-preservation and go out on a limb. Was it selfish to say no? To turn away from something that made me uncomfortable, even if it was part of the island—and part of the man I was falling in love with?
“I’ll think about it,” I told Silas. “I’m open to it. Let’s talk about it later.”
“We can always go tonight,” Silas said. “After the full moon ceremony. We don’t have to stay out till dawn. Just a short trip after dark if you’re up for it.”
“Give me a little time to think about it,” I said. “I’ll let you know before tonight.”
Silas and I had some time to kill before the full moon ceremony with the gnomes, so I went home to Wisteria Cottage andcollapsed on the bed. I was out before I could change out of my clothes.
I’d been up early and out all day, and it sounded like I’d be up late into the night. I was surprised I managed to fall asleep, considering how many cups of Gus’s enchanted coffee I’d consumed. But that was the magic of it, I supposed.
When I woke, it was around dinnertime. I found Millie in the kitchen, stirring a cast-iron pot of soup that smelled like heaven. Silas was nowhere to be found.
“Sit,” Millie said. “You’ll need something in your stomach before the full moon thing tonight.”
“You heard about that?” I sat at the table with a wry smile. “What do you think about it?”
“I spoke with Silas while you were sleeping. He had to run out and take care of a few things before he comes to collect you. As for what I think about it, I don’t have an opinion.”
“Can you teach me about your magic?” I blurted. “I’m trying to learn about different sorts of magic. That’s part of the reason I’m going tonight.”
“My magic? What magic?” At the stove, Millie stiffened. There was a dry humor to her voice. We both knew she had magic, but every time she used it, she seemed almost apologetic.
But like I’d told Gus this morning, Millie was also her own person, with her own ideals and beliefs and learnings, and an important part of the island.
“Why do you want to learn about my magic? I’m nobody important.”
“I beg to differ,” I said. “This place wouldn’t run without you. You’ve fed me, healed me, helped me, watched over me… believed in me. You’ve been my friend, which is probably the most magical thing of all.”
Millie turned toward me, smiled, then burst into tears. She crossed the room and wrapped me in a tight hug. “I love youtoo. And of course I’ll teach you about my magic, which totally doesn’t exist.” Millie swiped at her eyes discreetly with a flour-sack towel and returned to the stove. She ladled soup into a bowl and handed it to me. “Eat first. Then we’ll talk.”
It didn’t take long to eat; I devoured her food in minutes. As soon as I’d wiped the last spot on my plate clean, Millie poured two cups of tea.
