The Last Hunter: Collected Edition (Antarktos Saga #1-5)

She separates our hands, leans down and kisses me again. The sensation is accentuated by the fact that I can now feel the heat of her lips and the warmth of her breath. I’m kind of dazed when she sits up again.

“We have a tradition like this in the outside world,” I say, trying to hide what feels like a swoon. “We call it blood brothers, though that doesn’t really make sense for us.”

She scrunches up her face. “No. It doesn’t.”

“What do you call it?” I ask.

She leans down again, smiling in a way I have never seen before. She whispers her reply in my ear. “Hunters call it ‘the bond’.”

“Oh,” I say. Not sure why she thought blood brothers was so outlandish. The Bond has kind of a similar tough vibe.

She whispers in my ear again, her breath tickling me “You would call it marriage, husband.”





22



I scramble out from under Kainda and stand bolt upright, exploding from the layer of ferns like a breaching whale. I turn to walk in one direction, change my mind and turn around, but find I can’t bring myself to move at all. My heart races as my mind tries to comprehend Kainda’s revelation.

Marriage!

Husband!

The bond!

I don’t know what to think. Or say. Or do. Where is Nephil when you need him?

I spin around hoping to be discovered by a Nephilim. A good fight would distract me. It’s not that I don’t love Kainda. I adore her. But I don’t know what to do with the emotions I’m feeling. I’ve never felt like this before, and honestly, it terrifies me. Everything up to this point has been temporary. I was broken and then healed. I was split in two—Ull and Solomon—and rejoined. I will fight Nephil and one of us will be defeated. They’re obstacles. I can face them, and then move past them. That’s what my life has become—a struggle against finite roadblocks, all of which will one day be a part of my past. Or I’ll be dead. But this...

Blood to bind. Flesh to join. Man to woman. Woman...to man. Forever.

Forever!

I’m not used to dealing with forever.

“Solomon,” Kainda says. I turn back to find her rising from the ferns. Flickers of sunlight, filtering through the canopy, dance across her tan skin. “Are you okay?”

She looks vulnerable. Worried. Beautiful. When I look into her eyes, all of my nervous energy flits away like dust caught in a breeze. I see her with new eyes, feeling the connection between us.

“My wife...”

She nods.

“Forever.”

She nods again. “Forever.”

I wade through the ferns until I’m standing just inches from her. My mind is still reeling, racing through concerns and scenarios, like worrying if such a marriage is legal, but then I remember I’m technically the sole heir to all of Antarctica and to many, a king. I can write the law. Plus, Kainda and I are both hunters and the laws that govern their culture, as brutal as it might be, are no less valid than those of the United States, a country that is still in its infancy compared to the nation of hunters.

I place my hands on her bare arms and feel her warmth again. All of my fears and concerns are forgotten. None of it matters. I pull her to me and hold her tight. “My wife.”

When we separate, I say, “Does this mean you’re going to shave your head and walk behind me? That’s the hunter tradition, right?”

Kainda shoots me a scowl, but can’t hide the humor in her eyes. A year ago, she wouldn’t have understood the joke. Still, she lands a solid punch on my shoulder. “Don’t push it. We might be married, but—”

A loud gasp cuts off Kainda’s words. “What did she just say?”

We turn to find Em standing by the tree that shielded our hasty nuptials, a hand raised to her mouth. Despite how her still-short hair, now something of a bob, makes her look cute, the knives criss-crossing her chest and waist look positively dangerous. But right now, she’s neither cute nor dangerous. She looks ready to burst, like a happy face balloon with too much air in it.

In response, Kainda lifts her hand, revealing the self-inflicted wound. Em’s eyes grow larger and shift to me. I smile and hold up my hand, showing her the identical wound.

The balloon pops with a squeal of joy unlike anything I’ve seen from a hunter. She hops into the ferns, clapping her hands and then dives at us, throwing her arms around our necks. She squeezes tightly and then leans back, looking at me. “Brother,” she says, and then turns to Kainda, “And now, sister.”

Perhaps performing another ritual I am not aware of, the two women lean their foreheads together, hold for a second before separating.

“Sister,” Kainda says.

“Sorry to break up the huggy time,” Kat says, stepping around the tree, “but we really need to go.”

Em whirls around, beaming. “They’re bonded!”

Kat scrunches her face. “Not sure I need to know that.”

“Married,” I say, clarifying for Kat.

“Married?” Mira says, stepping around the other side of the tree. For a moment, I worry about what she’s going to say, but then she smiles and laughs, and says, “Could have picked a nicer location.”

“Or a better time,” Kat says.