Page 104 of The Dead Queen

“He isn’t taking me.” I wedge myself between them. “I’m going by my own free will.”

“Into Annwyn territory? Have you lost your mind?” He gestures wildly toward the blood-drenched battlefield behind us, where the dead still feast and fires burn.

That’s when I realize—the Dead Queen is gone. She sent her monsters after us and then vanished, slipping back into the veil of shadow and mist.

Hunter points toward the valley, where flames have reached the last of the city walls and screams echo through the smoke. “They have more of those monsters in there!”

Tristan cuts in calmly. “There are monsters everywhere.”

“Shut up, Wolf!” Hunter snaps.

For a moment, it looks like Tristan might argue, but one glance at my expression and he shuts his mouth.

“Hunter,” I say, trying to reason with him. “That’s a risk I have to take.”

His shoulders slump. “You were just going to leave me? Again?”

“I have to.”

He shakes his head slow and disbelieving. “No, Sienna. You really don’t.” His voice shifts. “I can take care of you! We can make a life together, without Foxes and Wolves and everything that’s in-between.” He reaches for my hand, but I take a step back.

“I can’t,” I whisper. “Deep down, you must know that.”

He scrubs his hands over his face in frustration. Then he takes a breath and looks at me, voice tight with anguish. “Is this about what I did?”

“No, Hunter. I⁠—”

“How long are you going to punish me for one, stupid mistake?”

“Mistake?” A hot coal of anger sparks in my chest. “It wasn’t a simple mistake.” I stare at him, wide-eyed. “You betrayed me. To my father.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Tristan wince.

Hunter’s face crumples. “I didn’t know, Sienna. How could I have known what he would do?” His voice is pleading, but I’m not ready—or perhaps not willing—to forgive.

“You know my father as well as I do. And you chose him.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“So, you didn’t tell my father that I was searching for information about Grandmother? After he explicitly told me not to?”

“I … yes, but …” Hunter shakes his head. “It wasn’t like that.”

Tristan watches in silence, but I see the tension in his stance. His eyes keep darting toward the burning valley behind us and what remains of the battle.

“No? What was it like then?” I fold my arms. “What was it like to watch him burn every last scrap of Grandmother’s letters. All of her portraits. All of her books and gowns and gifts. Everything turned to ash.” My voice cracks. “Everything, except the knife I hid under my skirts.” A sob claws its way up my throat, but I swallow it down.

Tristan tries to grab my attention. “We really need to leave.”

“I was afraid.” Hunter’s voice is almost pleading now. “I saw you sneaking out at night, alone …”

“When I left you behind, you mean?”

Hunter flinches and I know I’ve hit the bone. He was jealous that I stopped spending every waking moment with him, that I was preoccupied with something—someone—other than him. He’s always wanted to have all of my attention, all of my time. When I left him behind, he just couldn’t bear it. So, he tried to claw me back to him, any way he could.

The tragic thing is, he knows me better than anyone. I’ve never been the kind of person you can tie down. He should’ve known clinging too hard just pushes me farther away. And he certainly should’ve known better than to use my father against me.

“Please, Sienna. You can’t trust him.” His eyes dart to Tristan.