Page 121 of The Fox Heir

All around me, Annwyn men and women are dying. We can’t stop the flood of Fox Soldiers, and even I can see our numbers are dwindling. We won’t win this battle. The pain of crushing defeat and grief threatens to overwhelm me.

“Sienna!”

I whirl around, searching through the chaos. My eyes have trouble focusing. Finally, I see him. Relief washes over me with such intensity that a sob bursts from my chest.

“Sienna!” Hunter is sprinting toward me. He’s soaked, and not just from rainwater. His exposed arms are coated in mud and blood. It streaks down in dark rivulets, dripping from his elbows as he swings his sword into the side of another Fox Soldier. It hardly slows him down as he runs.

When we collide in a breathless whirl, he wraps his arms around my shoulders. In the midst of death, all the anger and betrayal between us extinguishes. Nothing else matters now beyond this: Hunter is here, alive. The heat of him, slick with rain and blood, cuts through the surrounding carnage. Tears stream down my face as he squeezes me tighter.

“Thank the old gods,” Hunter gasps into my rain-soaked hair. Then he steps away, grabbing my hand. “We have to get you out of here.” He pulls me forward, and we weave through the piles of dead and dying.

Three Fox Soldiers spot us and charge in our direction. But instead of bracing himself to fight, Hunter surprises me by pivoting.

“What are you⁠—”

He grabs me around the waist and tucks his face toward mine. “Trust me.”

Suddenly, the soldiers stop advancing. Their eyes grow wide. “What the …?”

“They were just here!”

“Impossible!”

They whirl around, only feet from us, eyes wide and searching. As if they can’t see us.

I stare up at Hunter, wide-eyed. “How …?”

He presses a finger up to his lips.

I look back at the soldiers, my heart hammering in my chest. A swirling mist, thin as a spiderweb, dances along the edges of my vision. It’s so negligible, it could easily be missed. For a moment, I think the head injury is messing with my vision. But no. Light and shadow bend around us in a shimmering ripple as the world distorts, hiding us in plain sight.

The soldiers locate a new target and run in the opposite direction.

Without a word of explanation, Hunter grabs my hand, and we run through the mud-slick battlefield, light and shadow swirling around us. We are little more than ghosts.

So, he knew. He denies being the Heir to the North, but he knew he was different. That’s how we survived all those years, growing up in a hostile palace. The invisible children. He used his power to hide us.

How had I never realized?

An Annwyn fighter crashes into us, and Hunter drops my hand, dispelling the illusion.

“S-so sorry!” The fighter says, his eyes wide with panic. “I didn’t see you! I swear.” He scurries away, tripping over fallen bodies as he goes.

Hunter reaches for me again, but a surge of Fox Soldiers pushes more Annwyn fighters back. The press of bodies is suffocating. They flood between us, separating us farther. I can’t reach him.

Then I hear another voice, sharp and clear: “Sienna!”

I whirl around to see a woman riding toward us on a dark horse. Her face is streaked with blood. Her long blond braid is soaked with rainwater.

Nalina.

In one swing of her silver sword, she decapitates a Fox Soldier in her path. His armor-clad body thumps to the ground. Blood spatters the horse’s flank, washed instantly into red streams by the rain.

When she reaches me, her horse digs his heels into the mud, spraying muck in every direction. Without a moment’s hesitation, Nalina reaches down and grabs my arm.

“Where’s Tristan?” I yell toward her, terror seizing my chest.

Her only response is a quick shake of her head.