14. Gwyneira

14

GWYNEIRA

M y mind was rattling every bit as hard as the rain pounding on the carriage roof.

Sitting on the slightly clammy seat of the carriage, I chewed my lip and stared past the sliver of an opening in the curtain-covered window. Lightning speared across the dark gray sky every few minutes, while thunder rumbled soon after, adding to the constant noise that left the carriage feeling like the interior of a drum. Dampness clung to everything from my clothes to my skin, and each blast of wind sent the carriage rocking on its wheels.

I felt terrible for my men riding outside, and for their horses too. But although the terrain was becoming hillier and we were leaving the prairie behind, there’d been nowhere to find shelter from this storm for hours.

And no resolution to the confusion tumbling inside me either.

Ozias’s hand came to rest on my knee, and I flinched, so lost in thought I hadn’t even felt him move.

“You’re going to rip that.” He nodded toward my lap.

I glanced down at the hem of my coat and the button I’d been absently picking at without realizing it. Releasing it, I folded my hands in my lap, but the urge to fidget returned immediately.

He put his arm around my shoulders. “Breathe, little mate.”

A shuddering breath entered my lungs, but my eyes darted to the side. Seated across from us, Casimir was watching out the opposite window, while Ruhl was curled like a pillow made of black smoke nearby. Even though the storm drowned many of the noises from outside, I could tell Casimir’s vampire hearing still picked up Ozias’s endearment for me.

But beyond the way his lips curled a bit, my vampire didn’t react, never turning away from the other window. Ruhl remained as he had been, his smoke tumbling slowly as he rested. And the emotions I could feel from Ozias via our connection weren’t disturbed by the idea Casimir or the shadow wolf might overhear.

He was willing to risk being himself around the others, just a bit, and that fact was wonderful.

I wished I could focus on it more.

Ozias’s arm tightened around me. “We’ll find Niko.”

I nodded, trying to believe that. But it was only the tip of the mountain of problems before us, and that mountain had only grown.

Apparently, I’d been unconscious for days. Days in which Niko could have died. Days in which my stepmother could have done any number of horrible things, none of which I knew how to prepare for. At any moment, the road we traveled could be washed out by this monstrous storm, delaying us even longer.

And then there was whatever Byron had done to save me. What I’d seen from him. What he saw from me.

How it made me feel.

I hadn’t told the others about what had happened between us yet. Originally, I’d wanted to talk to him at camp about it, but then we were all packing up because of the storm coming in and there wasn’t time. Not without saying something in front of the humans, anyway.

As understanding as Valeria had been about everything so far, I couldn’t be sure the others wouldn’t panic at the idea the Aneiran princess was somehow sharing memories with an Erenlian monk.

But beyond all of that, there was me. Even all these hours after waking from unconsciousness, I felt odd somehow. Tingly, like the sensation of a limb waking up after being asleep, but in my veins and mind.

What if something went wrong in that strange darkness? What if I wasn’t right anymore?

“Your heart is pounding quite hard, princess.” Casimir turned from the window. “And I suspect your mate can feel whatever fear is gripping you right now. Would you care to tell us what has you so scared? Is it Niko or something else?”

I cast Ozias an apologetic look, but he only raised an eyebrow at me, his scarred face calm and curious. Comfort radiated through our connection.

Biting my lip, I tried to think how to respond without making them think there was cause to worry. “I-I just wonder, in the days I was unconscious, if something?—”

Shouts came from outside. The carriage suddenly lurched hard to the right, sending me toppling into Ozias.

And then tumbling farther as the carriage itself rolled onto its side.

I crashed into Ozias, trying to shift to avoid hurting him, but everything was moving too quickly. My head slammed into the wooden wall, pain blinding me for a moment. When I tried to move, my hands landed in mud, all of it squelching through the window as the carriage steadily sank into the muck.

More shouting penetrated the ringing in my ears. The clang of swords came from outside.

“Go!” Casimir ordered Ruhl.

The shadow wolf rushed upward, pouring out of the window that was now above our heads. Screams followed.

“Are you okay?” my vampire continued to me.

I tried to nod, but it only made my head spin. “Yes.” Carefully, I glanced at Ozias. My mate lay at an awkward angle, his shoulder crushed against the interior corner. Pain radiated through our connection.

But he was already struggling to rise. “Stay down,” he snarled at me.

Not waiting to see if I would listen, he straightened carefully. His nose twitched, and then a low growl left him.

Moving fast, he lunged up through the window. A shout followed, but it cut off quickly as he snapped the neck of the man who’d been climbing to reach us.

A small object tumbled from the man’s hand, clattering through the carriage.

Only to burst into flame a moment later.

Fire rushed over the upholstery like it couldn’t devour it fast enough. Only the mud saved the sodden curtains beneath me from joining it.

“Shift!” Casimir snapped at me.

I didn’t need the order. Swiftly, I abandoned human form, rushing upward as fast as I could and grabbing Ozias as I passed.

He was huge. Heavy.

Thank the gods for vampire strength.

But outside was chaos, and my strange senses in this form took it all in at once. Enormous men attacked from every side. They moved like a unit, wielding their weapons with lethal precision. Their uniforms were terrifyingly familiar.

Huntsmen. My stepmother’s Huntsmen.

Leather armor covered them, with crimson sashes across their chests pinned by emblems of Aneiran silver apples. Leather masks made each of their faces the same, and they bore more weapons than any other soldier could hope to carry. From axes to swords to bows, they were masters of them all.

A Huntsman had spared my life once, leaving me in the mountains rather than cutting out my heart and returning it to my stepmother like she’d ordered.

None of these seemed inclined to spare anyone.

Bodies lay on the road. The humans who’d been with us, and of their number, the survivors were barely holding their ground. Valeria was shouting to her people, trying to keep them together, but the Huntsmen were too strong. Steadily, they broke through the humans’ lines of defense, separating my allies’ numbers into smaller groups where they would be more easily picked off. Dex and Byron were likewise trapped, fending off attacks from all sides. Nearby, Lars and Clay were backed up against the carriage, and Clay cursed vehemently as smoke began pouring from the window behind me.

Surging forward, Casimir charged at the Huntsmen attacking Dex and Byron, Ruhl at his side. The Huntsmen screamed as the vampire and shadow wolf tore into them. In my grip, Ozias snarled something unintelligible. I could feel him urging me to let him go.

But panic held me fast. Everyone was here, fighting and attempting not to die.

Except Roan.

Oh gods, I couldn’t find Roan anywhere. The demon either.

On the air, a trace of his blood caught me, drawing me like a beacon. I dropped over the side of the carriage.

He was there. On the ground in human form, half pinned beneath the carriage and the driver’s seat.

Rage and horror flooded me. He wasn’t moving. Blood coated his face from a savage gash on his temple.

My vampire senses pierced my terror. I could hear the slow thud of his heartbeat. The shallow breaths in his lungs. Both were faint, but it didn’t matter. He was alive.

Oh, thank the gods.

I dove for him, releasing Ozias as I went. My mate was already shifting form before his feet hit the ground. In only a moment, a massive beast stood where he had been.

The Huntsmen charging at us balked. Behind the leather face masks, their eyes went wide.

Relief flashed over my giants’ faces. “Want to gut some fuckers, Oz?” Clay called.

Throwing his wolf-shaped head back, Ozias howled. Lunging forward, he snagged the nearest Huntsman. The man’s blood splattered the mud a heartbeat later.

I kept moving, surging toward an attacker trying to circle the carriage to where Roan lay. The Huntsman screamed, falling to the ground as I surrounded him in shadow form and then tore into him.

“Damn,” Clay commented, sounding impressed but taken aback.

I dropped down to Roan’s side and shifted. “Roan? Roan, please wake up. We’re under attack.”

A yelp behind me sent my attention whipping around. At the heart of a group of Huntsmen there stood one who wasn’t like the rest. Bigger. Covered in dirt with scuffs on his leather armor and tears on the red sash, like neither had been repaired or even removed in ages. He held his hand aloft, and in his grasp, Ruhl twisted, thrashing with fangs and claws, fighting to break free.

In the form of shadow and smoke, Casimir sped toward them, only to be knocked aside by the Huntsman’s free hand.

My eyes went wide with horror. How had he?—

With a sharp gesture, the Huntsman flung Ruhl away. The shadow wolf crashed into the boulders beside the road and then tumbled limply to the ground.

Ignoring him entirely, the Huntsman started toward us.

“Roan, please!” I cried.

He didn’t stir.

Fear choked me. If the wound to Roan’s head was bad enough, or if some other part of him that I couldn’t see was injured…

Squeezing my eyes shut, I reached inside myself for my magic. I’d helped Ozias once. I could help Roan too.

A shiver of ice rushed through me, coursing down to where my hands gripped Roan. It was like a frigid breeze on my skin, but it was more real than before. Not stronger exactly.

But something was different.

Roan drew a sharp breath, his eyes flying wide. Beneath my palms, he suddenly shifted. His body grew. His clothing shredded away. Enormous wings spread from his back, one of them arching over me like a protective shield.

Something struck the wing an instant later. I whirled, gasping. The horrible Huntsman hadn’t reached us yet, but another had just swung his sword at me. The blade was now lodged in a thick bone of the demon’s wing, wedged there like the man had struck stone.

The Huntsman cursed. Swiftly, he went for his knife.

A fanged snarl left the demon. His eerie black eyes found me. “Mine.” He turned to the man. “You tried to hurt mine .”

And then he was moving. His massive, clawed hands grasped the Huntsman. The man’s screams lasted only a moment, and then pieces of him flew in every direction, smashing into the rocks with sickening, squelching sounds. A blast of wind buffeted me as the demon took to the air, naked and clearly furious.

Shouts rose from the other Huntsmen. They grabbed for their bows.

The strange one who’d hurt Ruhl and Casimir merely stopped. His head cocked to one side as he regarded Roan’s demon rising into the air.

Fear gripped me. Could he hurt the demon too?

“Twin Lars!” the demon shouted.

Ducking under the swing of another Huntsman’s sword, Lars called back, “What?”

The demon’s lips pulled back in a grin. “Time to play with fire.”

Flames erupted from him and poured down like he’d unleashed a river that’d been blocked by a dam.

My breath caught. But before the fire could reach anyone, it separated. Flames twisted through the battle like living ropes. Wrapping around the Huntsmen, the blaze poured over their bodies, consuming them and leaving the humans and my men unscathed.

I looked from the demon to Lars. Eyes intent with focus, the blond giant held his hands outstretched. His fingers moved like a weaver, all while the demon kept the flow of fire coming, his fangs bared in a wide grin.

Despite everything, a chuckle escaped me. The demon really could work with us. Be a part of our group, at least in this way. Yes, I’d seen him helping the others in the forest after Niko was taken, but this… this was amazing.

With every passing second, the battle slowed. The Huntsmen fell, fewer and fewer of them left alive to strike out at our allies. At last, none moved again.

Breathing hard, Lars lowered his hands.

“You okay there, brother?” Clay called.

Lars nodded, a wary hint of exhilaration in his eyes. “That’s just… damn. Hell of a rush, every time.” He let out a breath, regrouping. “Is everyone okay?”

As the others nodded, I scanned the road. Casimir was with Ruhl. The shadow wolf was back on his feet, shaking his fur like a dog trying to dispel an irritant.

Relief threaded through me, growing stronger when Casimir caught my eye with a reassuring smile and nod, as if to tell me they both were okay.

Thank the gods.

While some of the surviving humans checked on their comrades, the rest were headed in our direction. My relief grew to see Valeria with them. She kept an eye to the demon overhead, balking a bit when he dropped back to the earth and growled.

A bit of my exhilaration dimmed. He was still feral, the demon.

Maybe we could work on that.

“Clay,” I called. “Would you please…?” I twitched my head toward the demon who, as always, was totally naked after shifting.

The blond man nodded. With a few quick gestures, he conjured clothing. “Remind me to ask Roan about a non-nudist solution for you, buddy.”

A displeased growl left the demon, but at a glance from me, he quelled the sound quickly, discomfort flashing across his face. His fiery gaze dropped away like he didn’t want to meet my eyes.

Which was strange, because this was a creature who hadn’t cared one bit about being naked or growling at others before. Yet now he looked… ashamed.

But only when he looked at me.

I didn’t have time to ask what prompted that reaction. Ozias strode toward us, shifting back from the form of his beast as he moved. “One still lives.” He jerked his chin at the burned bodies of the Huntsmen.

My stomach sank with the heavy certainty of which one that would be.

The demon snarled with irritation. “Magic one,” he snarled over his shoulder as he stalked toward the survivor. “You. Byron. Come here now.”

Glancing warily at the others, Byron trailed him. I hurried after them both.

“Princess,” Dex started.

I cast him a worried look, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

I needed to know what the hell this man was.

The stench of burned flesh surrounded me as I trailed Byron to where the demon waited, and I pressed my sleeve to my mouth and nose, trying to smother it. Even if I technically didn’t need to breathe, I still didn’t want any of this to work its way into my lungs.

Burned like the others, the strange Huntsman lay on the ground. But unlike the rest, he was still trying to rise, even though his body was a wreck. Groaning, he attempted to lift his sword.

“Surrender,” Dex commanded him, coming up beside me. “Now.”

The Huntsman’s head shook. “I… cannot…”

His words were rough, as if his throat could barely make sounds past the damage to his body. But there was also a weary note of defeat to his gravelly voice. A sorrow that confused me. He sounded as if he would give anything to stop, yet still he moved.

I stepped closer, peering down at him.

Recognition teased at the edge of my memory. Something about him was familiar. His eyes, maybe. Or the harsh lines of his face, burned though it was.

The truth hit me. “I… I know him. He’s the Huntsman the queen ordered to take me into the mountains and cut out my heart. But he didn’t. He spared me and let me escape.” A breath rushed from me, wonder and horror so tightly entangled in my chest, I couldn’t separate them. “He’s the reason I survived to meet you all.”

My men froze.

“He swore it wasn’t mercy, leaving me in the mountains like that. He said it’d be better to let him kill me so I wouldn’t suffer the cold. But when I begged to live… he disobeyed her command and let me run anyway.”

On the ground, the Huntsman struggled to rise, even though his body was so burned, movement had to be excruciating. His sword slipped away from the slick flesh of his melted fingers, but still he reached for it over and over again.

I couldn’t understand why he kept trying. “Stop. Please. We’re not going to hurt you.”

“Can’t…” Agony filled his eyes, even as he continued straining to grab the sword. “Can’t…”

Slow horror spread through me as a terrible possibility presented itself. My stepmother had a way about her. A trick I hadn’t seen until the night she framed me for the murder of my father.

She’d whispered in my maid’s ear and made Fironia say things she otherwise never would have. She’d turned that sweet girl into her puppet.

But this was so much worse.

“Um, why can’t you stop?” Lars asked warily, as if he had the same suspicion I did.

“Queen’s… command…”

“Fuck,” Clay whispered.

The demon harrumphed. With one clawed foot, he pinned the Huntsman’s arm.

Agony deepened on the Huntsman’s face at the weight of the demon on his burns. But sorrow was there too. Grief so deep, it surpassed even his pain.

And still his shoulder lurched like he was trying to move.

I stared at him. “She did this to you?”

His head twitched in a nod. “Bound me… as punishment. The oath to serve the queen… became this. I let you live, so now I… I can’t…” A raspy, rattling sound left him, like a breath from lungs so damaged, they shouldn’t still be able to draw air. “I can’t die.”

My mouth moved in horror, at a loss for words.

“Tied me to her service.” He groaned, his shoulder lurching in an attempt to break the demon’s hold. “Never to stop, not even for death.”

“That is dark and terrible magic.” Appearing stunned, Byron lowered his hands where he’d extended them toward the Huntsman. “Even for her.”

“Princess.” The Huntsman rocked harder, struggling to rise though nothing on his face said he wanted to. “Her power… binds me. My words. Can’t… can’t speak for long. This creature’s fire loosened the spell… but it’s coming back. I feel it.”

“What do you need?” I asked him. “What can we do?”

“Kill me.”

Oh gods.

“I beg you.” His voice turned desperate as his body rocked again, fighting to stand. “Please. Kill me. Let me die.”

I wanted to cry. To scream in horror that she would do this to someone whose only crime had been to spare me.

And now the only thanks I could give him for that would be death.

With effort, I made myself nod. “Okay. We—” I glanced at my men, seeing gut-wrenched looks all around.

But Byron’s eyes were narrowed, his eyes running over the Huntsman like he was seeing more than merely the burned wreckage of a man.

“We will,” I continued to the Huntsman. “Somehow, we will.”

Several of my giants nodded, but Dex didn’t move. “Before we do that, tell us why you and the others were here?”

The Huntsman’s chest rattled again. His body struggled harder. “Please.”

“We will help you,” Dex said with a firm glance to me as if to reassure me of his words too. “But there’s nothing for miles around, yet you and the others attacked us.”

A shudder rolled through the Huntsman. “Trap. Queen knew… you’d come this way.”

“Why?”

“The boy.”

My stomach turned to lead. “Niko?”

The Huntsman nodded. “Said… you’d think he went… to the mines… at Lumilia.”

Cold dread sank over me.

“That we’d think he went there?” Clay repeated.

A sickened look crossed Lars’s face. “But he didn’t.”

“No.”

Clay made an incredulous noise. “Where the hell is he, then?”

Another shudder racked the Huntsman. “Please. Her power… coming back. Please.”

My heart raced. “Where is he?”

The Huntsman groaned, agony in the sound. But something else was too. A savagery like a predator discovering it was in a trap.

“Where?” I pressed. “Please!”

He snarled, his head turning back and forth. His body began to thrash so hard, he appeared to be close to dislodging the demon’s foot.

The demon scowled, pressing down harder.

“Please,” I begged.

He only snarled again.

Anguish crushed down on me. If Niko wasn’t at the mines of Lumilia like we’d thought, he could be anywhere.

And I didn’t know where to begin.

Thrashing on the ground, the Huntsman tried to tear at the demon’s leg, though his burned fingers could do no damage, only leaving bloody trails that made the demon’s lips curl in disgust.

“Dammit,” Dex cursed under his breath, resignation in the sound.

My heart ached. I wanted to ask more. To wait and see if somehow he responded. But it was a childish wish. My stepmother’s curse had him well in its grip, tormenting him with rage and unending pain.

We couldn’t force him to stay like this any longer.

I lifted my hand to extend what magic I could toward the man.

“Don’t.” Byron caught my arm, alarm on his face. He shook his head. “Whatever she did to him, it could harm you too.”

The Huntsman roared in rage, shoving at the demon’s leg.

“If that guy could hurt Ruhl and Cas here,” Clay said with a nod to the vampire, “I’m guessing our demon friend won’t hold him forever either.”

The demon sneered. “He will not escape me.”

Snarling, the Huntsman shoved him so hard, his weight rocked a bit. Incredulity widened the demon’s eyes.

“Weapons,” Ozias suggested shortly. “The ore in our blades. We take his head.”

Unease rose at the thought, but Byron only made a considering noise. “It once severed the power she used to attack the princess, yes. But if it doesn’t work, it could be worse than this—for him and for us.”

I could hear the implication, and nausea swirled in my stomach at the possibility his body and head would continue this grotesque “life” even if they were separated.

“That’s definitely our last resort,” Dex agreed, sounding sickened too.

“Allow me to try a few of the Order’s unbinding spells first,” Byron said. “And if they go wrong, then…” He gestured permissively, leaving the rest unsaid.

“But it could hurt you too,” I protested.

He glanced back at me. “This man made meeting you possible. Without his actions…” He shook his head resolutely. “If this is the only thanks we can give him, then let it be done quickly.” A grim look crossed his face as he turned back to the Huntsman. “I would not leave him bound to an oath that never should have been used against him like this.”

His words caught me, making my heart twist with regret. Bound to an oath, he said.

He’d know. No, the Huntsman’s situation wasn’t the same as Byron’s. I knew that.

But I could see the similarities all the same.

Dex took my arm, pulling me back with him to give Byron and the Huntsman space. The demon didn’t move, harrumphing as if indignant at the very thought. But even his face became more solemn as he looked down at the burned man.

“If this does not work, magic one,” the demon promised Byron, “I will burn him until not even ash remains.”

I shivered, not wanting to imagine the pain the Huntsman would suffer before that end.

But Byron just nodded. With a last look at us all, he extended his hands toward the Huntsman.