Page 49 of Hunt Me

He had tasted her.

“W-what… are… you?” he rasped.

Matilda snapped into action when David’s companions howled, alerting their nearby location. She used her weight to shove the ailing werewolf off her and scrambled for the crossbow.

“Three to the left, three in the middle, and three to the right,” she whispered as she peered down the sight. “What to do? What to do? What to do?”

She paused and smeared her blood on the pointy metal tips of the bows. She didn’t understand why David suffered a deadly reaction from her blood, but she’d use it to her advantage. “I only have six. I’ll have to fight the remaining three. May the gods favor me.”

She hauled herself upright, only to sway dangerously from the blood lost, but that was a problem for later. She held her focus and released the first shot. “Bullseye,” she whispered when the arrow pierced the wolf’s neck. He collapsed into the snow and flailed about, encouraging Matilda to dispatch the remaining five arrows.

Three more wolves had fallen before the others fled for safety.

“Thank the gods,” she whispered once they had all retreated. She tossed the crossbow aside and fell to her knees before passing out face-first into the bloodstained snow.

***

Luka shot out of the cave, scattering the rocks that had once concealed him. One powerful beat of his wings sent him soaring into the night, and for one fleeting moment, he felt like a spry, young vampire again.

His gaze swept the snow-covered ground below until he found her.

Matilda lay motionless in the snow with David beside her.

Every trace of exhilaration vanished from the king.

Luka folded his wings and plummeted to the ground, striking it hard enough to send snow billowing around him. He rushed to Matilda’s side and rolled her onto her back. He searched desperately for the source of the blood staining the snow beneath her. Soon after, he discovered a deep gash stretched across her upper arm, still spilling blood despite the cold.

“Matilda.”

No response.

“Tilda,” he said, pressing his hand firmly over the wound. Blood immediately seeped between his fingers.

“What did you do to her?” Luka snarled at the unconscious wolf. “I shall have my vengeance upon you, Beta David,” Luka promised, tearing a strip of fabric from his clothing to tend her wound and binding it tightly around her arm before gathering her against his chest. “Stay with me, Tilda.”

His wings spread behind him, casting an enormous shadow across the snow.

“You will answer for this, dog,” he vowed before launching into the sky.

19

The Blood Within

“What happened?” Ezra gasped as he hurried behind Luka toward the king’s private quarters.

“We were out at the hot spring when Beta David and his guards attacked us. I managed to escape, but barely. I was poisoned, I fed from her, and she hid me while I recovered. She held off Beta David and his men. I returned to retrieve her as soon as the poison wore off. I need the physician immediately. I want you and several of our guards to return to the springs to retrieve the wolves. If they are dead, so be it; if they aren’t, to the dungeons they go. Please make haste.”

“Yes, King Alesi. Right away.” Ezra was prepared to carry out his assignment when he paused. “King Alesi?”

“What is it now?” Luka spat in anger, desperation, and dread.

“Whatever my feelings toward her… I pray she recovers.”

Luka nodded stiffly before proceeding to his quarters. Once inside, he rushed to the bed that was covered in thick blankets of fur. He carefully stripped her of her wet garments and swaddled her like a newborn before placing her on the floor before the raging fire in the hearth.

Seconds and minutes passed as Luka anxiously paced his bedchamber floor. His gaze returned to her blue-tinged lips every few seconds, desperately searching for the first hint of their natural pink.

“She’s still too cold,” he worried as he discarded his clothing. Naked as the day he was born, Luka breached her furry cocoon and entangled his limbs with hers. He closed his eyes and did something he’d never done before. He prayed. To whom? He wasn’t sure, but someone had to hear him. Someone had to answer his pleas. It was only fair since Anastasia couldn’t be saved. Whoever was up above calling the shots owed him.