Page 133 of The Hunted

The hunter had more to lose than either of them would admit when it came to capturing the mermaid for Eryx. Given how much of Atlas’s riches were made from the hunts, to the crown, a hunter working on the sly for someone else would be treason.

The deal had been simple.

Capture the mermaid.

Get paid.

Never speak of it again.

Eryx shouldn’t be here.

He doubted Corval would tell him to leave.

“The house is quiet,” Eryx noted.

Corval cleared his throat and smiled. “It always is.”

“No kids—a wife?”

“I always assumed it better not to tie a woman into this life with me. All those months on the sea—as dangerous as it is … would it be fair?”

“Fair enough if she wanted it.”

Corval nodded. “True enough. Perhaps I haven’t found her yet, then.”

“Or you’re not looking at all.”

The hunter would fetch an easy wife if he truly wanted one. Eryx didn’t need to be told to know that was the truth. He had wealth—a good lot of it. Respect. A place at the royal court because of his success on the sea.

A line of women would jump at the man.

Corval clearly had enough of the line of questioning when he raised a brow at the prince, done with pretenses, and asked, “Are you going to tell me what you want?”

“What makes you think I want something?”

“The fact that you showed up at my door, looking anything but a prince, with fire in your eyes. I saw you look like this once—right after we pulled you from that island. Remember that?”

Eryx did.

Better than the man understood.

Dragging in a heavy breath, Eryx murmured, “Seems someone has decided to take my little mermaid away from me—I would like to get her back, but considering the circumstances, I may need help.”

That quieted the hunter.

But for a mere moment.

“By whom?”

That was the more difficult part of this equation.

“The king,” Eryx replied.

What had seemed like interest in Corval’s eyes—Eryx thought the man enjoyed a good challenge, which was why he first took the prince up on his original offer—disappeared in a blink. He shook his head and sat a little straighter in his chair when he folded his arms over his chest.

“She’s a slave, Eryx,” the man said, “and that means she belongs to the crown if they so want her. I suggest you find another. Hell, I even know a man who trains them, if you need one soon. I will pass his name along.”

His stomach rolled at the idea. The rage swelled again. It was the harder of the two to handle if he were being honest.