Not in the mood, I muttered, “I’m pleased I amuse you.”
My mood took a sharp turn toward fear as Hunter unveiled his storm-gray wings and took to the sky.
I gasped as my stomach dropped sharply and the ground melted away. The force of the wind breaking against my face made my eyes water. I shut them and leaned into Hunter’s chest, soaking in the warmth from his layers of leather and cloth. He sped up, and I couldn’t stop from groaning, “I feel sick.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Hunter said with laughter in his voice.
“Doubtful.”
I yelped as we got caught in an updraft, and Hunter’s soft laugh tickled my ear as we climbed higher and higher. He was enjoying this. Ass.
Chapter 8
Embrace
My dizziness was over as soon as it began. We leveled out, so I dared to open my eyes and peek down. There was nothing but liquid dark—no glowing lights from villages or towns, no more firelights, just shadows darker than the rest. My guess would’ve been trees. I tried to use my other senses, but there was only the flap, flap, flap of wings and the air pressure rattling against my ears. After a few steadying inhales, the cold bit down deep and made my lungs feel like they were being impaled by shards of glass. Coughing, I gasped out, “If flying’s always this uncomfortable, I’m not jealous of your lot one bit.” I meant it.
Hunter let out a little laugh. “Look up.”
I did. My breathing eased, and a knot loosened somewhere around my midriff, making way for wonder and exhilaration. The night sky was alive; the moon, full and resplendent and cloaked in its usual robe of silver; countless stars burned strong and bright in their usual iced white light, but unlike back home, there were also whole constellations painted pink, yellow, and pale blue. A heady feeling of desire surged; I wanted to reach out and touch them. Color and movement and light in perfect harmony—that’s what this was.
How did that work? Were our lands so different? Or was this fae magic: some form of low trickery? It didn’t feel that way. Instead, it struck me that I’d been looking through a clouded lens my whole life. That thought disturbed me, and a splinter of shame and embarrassment crept in. The world was so much bigger, grander, more magical than anything I’d imagined from my tiny cabin in the woods.
“Do you like it?”
“It’s indescribable.” It really was.
My eyes dropped to see a smile radiating there. My inhale broke apart—he forgot so easily. But I couldn’t forget. I couldn’t let my guard down. He’d fled from the Winged Fiends, leaving us to fend for ourselves. Not to mention helping to shove that sleeping potion down my throat.
His smile smoothed out into an earnest expression. “You can relax now. You’re safe with me.”
It was as if he’d reached into my head and plucked out the exact words I needed to hear most. And the ones guaranteed to antagonize me. My grip around his neck grew tighter, and my spine stiffened. “Oh?”
“Truly.” Hunter stared and stared and didn’t blink once as if willing me to see into his soul.
A flicker of heat warmed my throat, and with it my repressed thoughts came tumbling out. “Then why fly away when Hawk appeared? Are we so worthless that you’d abandon us? Now, Billy and Brandon are gone, and who knows if the Fiends will honor their word!”
“I didn’t! You aren’t! That’s not what that was.” Frustration was there, and maybe even something close to bewildered panic.
“Explain?” I wanted to give him a chance, if only to make the idea of turning him into an ally easier to bear.
“Serena, what is it you want from me? Did you want me to get captured and tortured?” A tone. Demanding. I thought there was something else, too; a hint of neediness, or exasperation. It was hard to tell.
“No, but you were doing fine until he got the net out …”
“Those nets have lightning currents running through them.”
I gaped up at him. That was possible? Stars, I knew nothing. And Billy and Brandon would soon live among fae like that.
“How?” My voice sounded faint and childlike.
“Magic,” he uttered. “Not all witch clans wage war and worship the gods all day. Some are actually useful.” The celestial light from above revealed his eyes searching my face, seeking my reaction. “Those nets are thanks to the crafting witches, but their weapons and allegiances are hard won because they’re often crucial in times of war. That’s why it’s so disturbing to see an outlaw like Hawk with one.” A crease appeared between his brows, and his hands tightened against my body.
His casual mention of wartime stopped me short. There hadn’t been a war in the Gauntlet … well, since we’d fought and ousted the fae, allegedly. Sure, there’d been a couple of peasant uprisings here and there, but war?
My silence didn’t go unnoticed by Hunter. “I’m sorry for leaving you, Serena,” he whispered my name. “Please, believe me that if it had just been about being outnumbered, I would’ve risked it. But when I saw that net … I just panicked.” He gave a rather violent flap of his wings. “I had a choice: I could grab Kesha or you. And the Hunt’s despised in these parts. They would’ve killed her. Maybe even tortured her for information.”
My attention piqued at this.
“Look, even if they’d taken you as well, you were too valuable to kill. We would’ve tracked you—I would’ve tracked you down.”
His rising agitation made me brace my hand against his chest. Just a reflex, but it made Hunter’s whole body tense; thankfully, his wings never faltered.
I pulled away instantly. I’d no desire for him to get the wrong idea.
“What was that for?” He sounded like he had a head cold.
“You were rambling. I wanted you to slow down for a second.”
“Oh.” Disappointment.
I squirmed at the words forming themselves on my tongue. “Hunter … I don’t blame you for choosing Kesha over me. We hardly know each other, and she’s one of your own.”
The vibrant night sky showed me his mouth pop open to protest or agree. I’d never know, because I continued. “I guess now that you’ve explained about the net, I understand why you ran.”
He let out a heavy sigh, weighted with relief, but I wasn’t finished. “And you seem nice—well, nice enough for a fae.”
He chuckled at that.
“It’s why I was so angry when you helped Kesha pour those sedatives down my throat.”
His next wingbeat was off and we dropped a few feet. On pure instinct, I flung my free arm up and out to wrap around his neck.
“Sorry, sorry,” Hunter babbled.
I said nothing. Shock kept my arms locked in place. That is, until he reached back and gently tugged my hand away. “It’s okay, I just lost control—”
“Well, don’t!”
He looked down at me. His lip twitched. Maybe it was the shock, but when he tipped over into laughter, I went with him.
The shadow living in my heart, the nightmare I was still living through, faded. Just for a moment.
Then, the laughter disappeared and a painful silence stretched …
I cracked first. “You seem … you are better than this. You have compassion. So, why do it?” I wanted—needed a serious answer; nothing else would suffice. “You have to know it’s wrong? It doesn’t matter if we’re outcasts. If we don’t come here voluntarily …”
I hated manipulation, but I needed to tap into those protective instincts of his. So I went for the jugular. “How does that make you any different from men like Gus? He violated my sense of safety, my freedom, my body.”
A low growl reverberated in his chest and throat. It was working. A whoosh of guilt. I continued anyway. “Don’t be like him,” I added, in a begging tone for good measure. “I know a human can’t return to the Gauntlet by themselves, but you said it yourself, the Winged Fiends too; the Wild Hunt is the only pack who can cross.”