Page 115 of Hunt Me

“You are like a mischievous kitten,” he gently chastised, licking away the blood.

“You must forgive me, as I will forgive you for killing me.”

“I will only turn you with your consent.”

“And you have it,” she said, reaching to cup his face. “You never explained what would happen if I did not return.”

“I recall hushing you because I do not wish to think of the suffering and pain. I do not wish to consider how I couldn’t follow you in death because I would have to carry on for our child. She will be my only will to live.”

“She?” Matilda replied with a smirk. “Are you conceding on the sex?”

“The child will be as you say,” he agreed.

Matilda eased into the pillows. “I pray to the gods that she will be a menace and keep you so busy and troubled that you will not fret over my departure. You simply won’t have time.”

He shot her a crooked smile. “I will throw a feast the first time she shoots an arrow into my back.”

Matilda graced him with a lopsided grin of her own. “What a momentous celebration. See yourself out, my King. I will rest through supper unless my presence is required.”

“As you wish. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Begone, bloodsucker.”

He left their bedchambers and arrived at his study, where Ezra waited patiently.

“My King,” he said, offering a bow that Luka waved off before collapsing in his chair. He rubbed the heel of his palms into his eyes and suppressed a cry. “I’m assuming Matilda is willing to be turned.”

“Aye,” Luka confirmed, leaning back against the chair and eyeing a portrait he had commissioned of his deadly beloved.

“I need to make preparations,” his advisor reminded him. “How will you take her life?”

Instead of responding, Luka opened a secret compartment in his desk and retrieved a small burlap sack. He tossed it across the table.

Ezra opened the bag and observed the contents. He nodded.

“I agree. The black-capped mushrooms will humanely put her to rest.”

“What if she doesn’t come back? Turning a human isn’t an exact science.”

Ezra chuckled and tied the bag with a leather string.

“She shall return more boorish and annoying than ever.”

That placed a smile on Luka’s face.

“The gods willing.”

43

Marriage Blessings

Luka’s boots echoed down the corridor as he approached the great dining hall. His steps faltered the closer he came. Despite how the servants scoured the floors and walls until the brush bristles flattened, he could still smell the iron twang of blood in the air. The blood-soaked furnishings and drapery had been disposed of and replaced, but the heaviness of the atrocity still lingered. He placed his hand on the door and swore he could hear his beloved’s sobs, and the visual of her trying to “fix” her dismembered companion kept him awake most nights.

He shook his head and took a deep breath before pushing forward. Instead of being greeted by screams, he was met by boisterous laughter that came from his honored guests, who were enjoying the finest ale Night Falls had to offer.

Seeing Ezra with his father brought a slight smile to his face. Duke Gustafson ruffled Ezra’s ashen hair, earning an annoyed look from his son, but the aggravation fled as soon as the duke kissed his son’s temple and shoved him away.

“Good evening, King Alesi. Thank you for gracing us with your presence,” Duke Mirren greeted, bringing everyone to their feet for a respectful salutation. They bowed as he approached the head of the table and remained standing until he sat.