Chapter 3

A valynn Stromm hiked up the silk skirt of her green nightgown. She jammed her boot through the vines that covered the lattice to her second-story bedchamber. Her sharp eyes peered up through the dark night as she considered the path to her open window. "I should have worn pants." She grabbed the lattice, and the spindly thorns scraped her skin. "And gloves."

Despite the barbed woodwork, she climbed swiftly and with purpose. She needed to reach her bedchamber before anyone discovered her missing and reported her absence to her father, the High King. His strict rules against roaming the palace grounds at night were legendary, and he made exceptions for no one. A year ago, her cousin from Sand Bluff left his room during the night to see the newly installed selkie fountain. He was never seen again.

Her excursion did not honor a fountain, though. She was not that foolish. She had snuck out to ride a magical creature. For months, beyond the landscaped gardens and expansive lawns of Stromm Palace, she had watched the white Enbarr horse. It appeared when the moon shone bright in the sky, and it pranced and played alone. She had never seen one up close, and it soon became her heart's desire, so much so that she felt a kindred spirit with the Enbarr.

And tonight was her chance. She would've never passed on the opportunity.

The graceful creature had meandered close to the Stromm property line, almost beckoning her to come out. So, she did. She snuck out through her window—which was way easier to climb down than up. She tiptoed her way through the garden's shadows until she was face-to-face with her new friend. Tall and lean, it carried a graceful neck and the longest eyelashes. Lowering on its front legs, it asked her to climb on. How could she say no?

They galloped all night from the Morning Sea to the Evening Sea, even throughout the Majestic Chasm. Glorious. Magical. Invigorating. Wind against her face, hair flowing in the breeze, exhilaration coursing through her veins. She had never felt so alive. She could not wait to do it again, but she needed to get back to her room before daybreak. Getting caught would've ended her magical, mysterious encounters with the creature and seen her endure some sort of awful punishment at her father's order.

With each grueling step up the lattice, she grew closer until she finally reached her window's ledge. She hoisted her legs over the windowsill, fell into her room, and sprawled on the marble floor, smiling. "Made it." It wasn't pretty, but she'd gotten the job done.

Or had she?

Cuts lined and blood streaked across her hands. Her sweat-stained nightgown had ripped on the lattice, and mud caked her boots. "Thunderation." She had marked herself as evidence of her forbidden jaunt with the magical Enbarr .

Scurrying to her washroom, she tore off her boots, nightgown, and underclothes. She shoved the wad to the bottom of her dirty clothes basket. Quickly, she washed her hands and face at the water basin. Slipping on a fresh nightgown, she exhaled. "Now I made it."

With a yawn and a scratch of her head, she returned to her open window. She wiped the ledge with a rag then perched herself on her ivy-strewn window bench. A new day was dawning at Stromm Palace.

The morning sun lit the indigo sky with a soft silvery glow. In the distance a chirp sounded, followed by another. Nestled within the maples and dogwoods, birds were announcing the day. The cool, crisp honeysuckle and rose-scented air meant Stromm Palace awakened. The silver in the horizon made way for pink tints and matte shades of orange and gold. Birds zigzagged through the lush garden, seeking food and drink. Along the gravel pathways, she spied gardeners dressed in their all-green attire along with maidservants in their customary white, all trooping along to attend to their duties.

She could no longer see her new friend—the Enbarr—out in the forest. Perhaps it rested under a large tree or dense shrubbery, settling in for some shuteye after their night of wild play, which was not a bad idea. Sleep, if only for a short while, sounded better than none at all. At least until her maidservant Nia arrived and prodded her awake for the day.

She headed to her plush and comfortable bed when the heavy wood-carved door flung open. Whoosh! The orbs floating along her gilded ceiling illuminated. Her father strode in without knocking, wearing silver pants with a pale blue tunic buttoned up to his chin. His long black hair hung down his back while his morning crown of thin silver and crystal circled his head. He rested his hand at his waist on the hilt of the black onyx dagger. His piercing green eyes narrowed on her.

"Father." Avalynn glanced behind him, waiting for her High Queen mother or Maid Nia. But he was alone, which signaled a bad omen for Avalynn. No telling what he might do if angered by something like her sneaking out and riding an Enbarr.

"We must talk." His deep baritone voice filled the bedchamber. He slammed the door behind him. "I need your full attention."

She stopped breathing. Her heart skipped a beat. She wrung her wrists. He must have found out about her frolic. Calm… Stay calm. Redirect his energy to something else. "Of course, Father."

With her head held high, she kicked back her shoulders. If he knew what she had done, would he be so cool and reserved? She smoothed her long, dark hair away from her face and snatched the robe draped on the bed's footboard. Was he toying with her? She pulled on the robe, cinched it at her waist, and stepped in front of his looming form, which nearly touched the wood archway separating her sleeping area from her sitting room. Imposing would've been an understatement for his demeanor.

She motioned toward the white plush chairs in front of the fireplace. "We can sit here if you would like."

With a wave of her hand, the logs flamed like they always did for her. Palace magic designed by the gnomes who secretly maintained the gardens and the lighting for the palace. She sat and rested her hands on her lap. Hiding her superficial skin cuts from the thorny vines, she angled her hands inward.

Her father remained standing and staring .

The fire crackled and popped but offered little warmth. Too much anxiety had built inside her, blocking the soothing heat of the flames. She waited for her father to speak.

"We must talk about the Summit Range Hunt."

She perked up, and her eyes widened. "Yes, Father?"

Avalynn had always wanted to compete in the prestigious hunt. She had been too young to enter the qualifiers, until this year. Preparing for the chance, she'd trained with fierce abandon. Running. Hunting. Archery. She was so skilled with her aim she earned the nickname Arrow Whisperer from her trainers. But it was Summit Range's fiercest warrior, Engrendorn, who beat her with his so-called speed. That, and her foolish glance at a fluttering butterfly, gave him the needed edge. She lost the hunt qualifier due to her own failures, not the excellence of another.

Father shook his head and sighed. "I have received word that Engrendorn is no more."

A quiet gasp escaped her lips. She blinked. "No more?" Their hunter was dead?

"Killed—while investigating the dragon sightings in the far north."

"Sun, Moon, and Stars," she whispered. Her mind picked apart the information, unsure of which thing to latch on to first—the sightings or the death. Both were alarming. But with Engrendorn out of the way, surely her father meant to include her in the hunt. Her time had come after all. She needed to be careful with her words. Her father hated it when she made assumptions. "I was unaware Engrendorn had gone to the north…or that dragons were back."

His nostrils flared, and he gripped the hilt of his dagger at his waist. "You would know of their return if you paid attention to the palace updates."

She bit the inside of her lip but remained sitting tall. She knew he was right, she often ignored the boring palace updates. Much to her father's displeasure, she could not help it. Her mind preferred more interesting things, such as the hunt, but her father needed placating. "You are right, Father. I do not pay well enough attention. I will do better."

He exhaled and grunted. "It would make your rule one day so much easier to know what is happening in Faevenly, my child." He removed his hand from his weapon and glanced at his perfectly groomed nails. " If you rule."

When the Strongs and Kanes battled for control of Faevenly, her father rose as a lord under his father, Lord Thornwick Stromm. His father claimed that when the Strongs and Kanes were done with each other, the Stromms would rise above all others. And he was right.

After the Strongs were wiped out by the Kanes, her grandfather mysteriously disappeared. Her father stepped in to rule the house and sent the land's fiercest witch, Raelor, to kill the highest lords of House Kane. Her father made the remaining heirs and other houses bow to him and crowned himself High King. Now, House Stromm ruled all of Faevenly, and every province answered to them. She was next in line and then Lily, her younger sister. The line of succession was well known and set in stone.

"I pray I gain your favor, Father." Her stomach turned. She had to say that or face his wrath. She knew deep in her heart that she would never truly win him over. For some unknown reason, he seemed to hate his firstborn daughter.

His lip curled with satisfaction. He shifted his stance, blocking even more of the fire with his tall and sleek frame. "The Summit Range Hunt is in two days. The sudden loss of Engrendorn has me searching for a new hunter to replace him." He folded his arms. "Someone who is skilled, capable, and above all else, loyal." He moved closer and stared her down like his pet rabbit. "Someone who will do as I command without question."

Without question? She wasn't sure about that part, but she wanted to prove herself in the hunt. She had the best aim in Summit Range, probably all of Faevenly. Though she despised her father's tactics and manner, she remained a Stromm—loyal to her house and name. A win might make her father view her as an equal, someone worthy of inheriting the crown without groveling. With her position secured, she'd spare her little sister from her father's cruel eye. "I can do it. I can win."

He held up his hand and paused her words. "Before I select the hunter, there are matters that must be acknowledged and accepted."

"Yes?" Her body tensed as she prepared herself for whatever he had in mind.

"The Sublands have been invited to participate in this year's competition." He tightened the grip on his dagger's hilt. "They are sending a hunter to the palace as we speak."

She drew in her chin. "A lowborn?" Father always said they were not worthy of standing beside highborns. "Why? What changed?"

"A bargain has been struck." He paused as if waiting for her reaction. She had none, not yet. The revelation had taken her words. Bargains were dangerous work, especially with her father. "They have asked to be included in exchange for a new rule, the penalty of death for last place."

Avalynn squinted and shook her head. The Sublanders had made a silly wager. Lowborns had no chance against highborns. "Why would they do that?" It made no sense. Everyone knew their human blood made them weak. They were sure to come in last. "Why sacrifice one of their own?"

His grip tightened on his dagger's hilt. "We do not know the skill set of their hunter, though it appears they have great confidence in their chosen one." Tension strained his broad shoulders. "My advisers and I believe they are plotting something."

"But Father, if they?—"

"Silence!" he interrupted with his neck veins bulging over his collar. "We will control this outcome, no one else!"

She wanted to yell right back, threaten him with her own dagger, but kept still. The last time she defied him, he confined her to the dungeon for a full moon cycle. She thought she would meet death there and wished for it at times. "Of course, we will. I did not mean to suggest otherwise."

He breathed heavily. "The Stromm hunter will not compete to win. He or she must ensure the Sublands lose. Engrendorn knew this. His replacement must follow his lead."

"Not win?" She wanted to win more than anything. Her skills far surpassed any hunter, and would especially surpass any Sublander. Now, she had to not win on purpose? "I do not understand, Father."

His brows furrowed into a formidable V-shape, casting deep shadows over his eyes. "You do not need to understand anything. Only obey." He leaned forward and control brimmed from his cruel eyes. Was he about to compel her? "The hunter's mission will be to sabotage the Sublander. Nothing more."

Nothing more? She did not think so. In the time he gave the directive, she'd already figured it out. She would make sure the Sublander came in last while still finding a way to win. It should not be that hard.

She would do it all—win and prove her worth to her father. "I can do that."

He stepped away from her and moved closer to the fire. "If you fail, you could be facing the death penalty for finishing last."

Fail? She had never failed at anything in her life. She would not start with the hunt. But since her father was including her, he had stamped her as expendable. That's what he was saying. She swallowed, a deep knot forming in her throat. "I will not be last."

He circled the room with slow and deliberate steps, like he was a hunter and she, his prey. She didn't appreciate being put in that position, especially by her own flesh and blood, her own father. Rising, she clasped her hands behind her back and waited for her father's next move.

"Silence is required. You may share that you will be replacing Engrendorn. But you will tell no one your true purpose, other than the Master of the Blade. You will not mention this to your mother or your sister. Or the maids who serve you. Or the other hunters." He tightened his circular path until he practically brushed against her with each step. "You will not even discuss it with me after I leave this room." He stopped in front of her. "Do you understand?"

His stance, the tidal wave of darkness behind his eyes, and the growing depth in his voice—he was one blink away from compelling her. Then, she would be forced to obey regardless of choice. She did not want that and avoided it at all costs.

She squared her shoulders and tamped down the rising fear inside her. "I will tell no one. "

"Good. It is agreed. You are appointed the Summit Range Hunter for House Stromm." Before leaving her bedchamber, he looked back. "Do not fail me."

"I will not fail."

The door shut behind him, and a surge of radical emotions raced through her. Excitement at competing, anger at her father's willingness to put her at risk, fear that something would go wrong. But one emotion overrode all the others—determination. She would succeed at all costs.

That Sublander hunter was as good as dead.