Lord of the Hunt

Chapter 2




The look in the King’s eyes sent the chill straight down Taryn’s spine. If a mortal man had looked at her like that, she’d have run. For a moment, every ounce of his restrained power had been directed at her. Then he’d turned his head and spoken to another man.

She couldn’t hear a word they said above the whispers that were happening behind her back, yet it was obvious they were talking about her. She wasn’t used to so much attention, and she didn’t like it. Her toes wriggled in her shoes; she wanted to go. Why the wait?

The other man lifted his gaze and looked at her for a moment. His cool gray eyes seemed to assess and sum her up in one glance; then he went back to his discussion with the King.

Her heart beat a little faster. Who was he? Maybe they already knew why she was here and they were discussing her father’s pardon. Not for the first time today, she wished the Prince had that power.

The man wasn’t dressed as brightly as the others, and yet nothing about him said he didn’t belong near the King. And anyone standing that close to the King was in favor and probably on the council. She let her gaze slide over the other fairies around the King. The Queen, the Prince—who gave no sign of knowing her—the gray-eyed man, and a couple other men and women. One of them would be the Hunter. Two white dogs were lying on the floor, but she didn’t know who they belonged to.

The King and the man came to an agreement, and the man straightened and stepped back. His gaze met hers again, a faint smile on his lips that tempted her to smile back. No, she was here to win favor of the King and save her father, nothing more.

And yet…it was hard to look away. She blinked and refocused on the King. He was watching her. What was he waiting for?

The question burned the tip of her tongue. She certainly had the King’s attention, and who knew when she’d be able to get it again. For a moment, nothing else and no one else in the room mattered, and it all faded beneath the sound of her heart beating. There was a glimmer in the King’s eyes. Was he daring her to ask?

She made herself breathe. Her fingers curled, and she made them straighten. She had every right to be here—but not every right to ask. If she asked now, in front of everyone, and failed, she’d never get another chance. Her mother was right. She needed to find a way to get closer to the King, to win his favor before her novelty status wore off and he was no longer interested.

So she said nothing and pasted a smile on her face, all the while feeling like the village idiot. Her mother’s rushed training had not helped. The Queen’s eyes narrowed. The gray-eyed man watched her without moving, and yet she was sure he hadn’t missed a second of her inner struggle. Then the King raised his fingers and she was dismissed without a word.

Was that good or bad? How long would she have to play their game for before she could ask the King for her father’s life?

Exile was supposed to be a lighter sentence, a social death instead of the slow death sentence of banishment and becoming a Grey. But with the power shift coming, there would be many asking for the King’s favor to lift an exile and save a relative.

She’d make that opportunity. Somehow.

She took a step back. Don’t turn your back on the King, as that’s rude. Never turn your back to the Queen, as she’ll stab you.


Her mother’s voice rang in her memory. There were so many ways to misstep. Beneath her feet, the grass was soft; leaves rustled overhead and the whispers were continuing. Now they knew who she was. Part of her mystery was already gone.

Another step, she was almost out of the chamber.

The tiniest breath escaped, but she didn’t let herself relax. Not yet—not until she’d fled the wolves’ luscious den. She kept her chin up and pretended she couldn’t hear the giggles the Ladies didn’t bother to hide.

She wanted to be alone to think and plan her next move. She cast her gaze over the chamber again, keeping it cool, as though she outranked them all and everything had gone according to her plan. Fake it.

Faking it was her specialty. She faked human all the time.

With a final step she was free. That had been way worse than any high school dance.

She walked down a corridor made of tree trunks as if she knew where she was going. Where was she going?

Her bedroom was in the castle, under the leafy roof, but she’d spent far too long in there already waiting until she’d been officially introduced. Now that had happened, she was free to roam. She stopped walking and glanced around. The corridor was empty except for a few shadow servants drifting around, featureless shadows that served the Court. She shivered and backed away as one came near. She didn’t want to be inside. She needed blue sky and sunlight.

What she really wanted was to go home, but Prince Felan had told her she couldn’t leave Court. He’d had the decency to stop by her room for a few moments before her introduction. He’d warned her about getting on the Queen’s bad side and given her a pile of wooden coins to get her started, along with some extra clothing. And at the same time he had warned her not to be close to him, as it could jeopardize her chances of getting the pardon from his father—things were changing and people were on edge.

They hadn’t looked on edge to her. They’d looked ready to party, like she’d stepped into an alternate history where everyone was in their twenties and fancy dresses that showed too much skin were all the rage. And her parents wanted to come back here to live?

She was leaving as soon as she could. She missed the movies and the mall, the beach and the feel of sand between her toes, even if she couldn’t swim and had no intention of learning. That amount of moving water freaked her out, like it did all fairies. She hadn’t realized how good she had it in the mortal world. She’d gone to school and done everything a mortal child would. Her parents hadn’t wanted her to feel as though she was missing out on anything, and they had filled her head with tales from Court, real fairy tales. But none of those stories had prepared her for the harsh beauty or the cold glances.

She kept walking, determined to find an exit and too afraid to ask a shadow servant. Her feet moved faster; she wanted out of this never-ending castle—now. She saw a door and walked quickly toward it. Suddenly everything felt too bright, too sharp, as if nature were on steroids. Her stomach tightened and turned. As she stepped outside, she let the illusion that she was keeping it together slide. She took a deep breath and swallowed.

Taryn glanced over her shoulder, but no one had followed her. Good. She slipped off her shoes, gathered her skirts, and ran. The delicate fabric swished around her legs, and for a moment she was free. She spun in a circle, just glad to be out from the scrutiny, and kept going. She didn’t know where she was running to, only that the further away she got, the lighter she felt.

Well, that was not entirely true. The further away she got from the giant tree castle, the less her blood hummed with the power of Annwyn. It was like being drunk and high and sober all at the same time. Inside the castle, her skin had tingled, but out here, her body felt like hers again—or at least more like hers.

She slowed to a walk and let the green, layered skirt fall from her hands. Her ballet flats—or the fairy equivalent—dangled from her fingers. Seriously, who put emeralds on shoes? For a moment she tried to imagine their faces if she’d walked in wearing jeans and a Florence and the Machine T-shirt. She laughed, then stopped. It wasn’t her laugh. It was, but it sounded different, as if just being here was changing her.

Her feet stopped as if she’d hit an invisible wall.

Slowly she turned back to the castle. Alien and beautiful and terrifying and bristling with power she didn’t understand, yet this was where she belonged. She was fairy, not mortal. Even though she’d spent all of her life in the mortal world, she knew her mother had slipped back to the outer reaches of Annwyn to give birth, alone, since her father couldn’t cross the veil. Her life would’ve been very different if she’d been born in the mortal world. She’d be a changeling, and while not beyond the reaches of the Court, maybe Felan wouldn’t have demanded her presence.

How long did she have before Felan claimed the throne?

Her mother had told her to ease in and make acquaintances, to move softly and gently so no one knew what it was she wanted. It made her want to scream with frustration. Her parents’ lives weren’t a game. She refused to let the fear and pressure get to her. She could do this.

She stepped off the grassy path and into a small alcove where gray rocks pushed through the grass and were wrapped by tree roots to form seats. She slumped onto the seat and let her shoes fall to the grass as she cradled her head in her hands, plucking at the carefully made coils in her hair so more fell around her shoulders.

How was she going to smile and play their games when the whole time she’d be thinking of what would happen if she failed?

Yet she couldn’t hide out here; she was going to have to face those stares day after day after day. Her eyes burned. She sniffed and squeezed her eyes closed. One day and she was already falling apart. Tears trickled down her cheeks and she let them fall, taking the tension and stress with them.

She’d suck it up before she went back. She wouldn’t give the Court the chance to see her undone. In front of them, she’d be snobby and look down her nose at those who hadn’t tasted life with the mortals. Yeah. She knew things they didn’t. She could blow bubbles with bubble gum, do calculus, and write an essay on Macbeth. She choked out laughter. Some of the people here had probably met Shakespeare. Who was she kidding? The pretty people here probably never went to the mortal world unless it was to procreate.

A lean white dog with red tips on its ears and tail wandered in to her alcove. She quickly wiped away her tears and held out her hand. The dog trotted over for a sniff, and then a second dog rounded the corner. How many were there? She stood up, but before she had time to fear the dogs, the gray-eyed man walked into the alcove.

He leaned against a tree and smiled, but it was carefully neutral, as though they were still in the castle. “Now why would a Lady just back at Court be so sad?”

She searched his smoky gray eyes for a hint at his intent, but saw no malice.

“You leave a lover behind?” He took a step closer and the alcove seemed to grow smaller around them.

Who was this Lord? His clothing wasn’t brightly colored and it didn’t glitter with gems, and yet this close, she could see that the fabric was covered in delicate stitches that shimmered in the light. The cuffs of his shirt were undone, the ties dangling. His dark brown hair was pulled back, but strands fell around his face, softening his otherwise sharp cheekbones and nose. He was beautiful even by fairy standards—and he’d followed her out here.


She glanced at the dogs sitting obediently at his feet. He’d sent them after her. Was she talking to the Lord of the Hunt? Her heart gave an extra beat.

Taryn shook her head. She didn’t want him thinking she was crying over a human lover. “My family.”

“Ah. They are in the mortal world.” He nodded as if confirming his information. How did he know? “Brownies, then?”

“Yes.” Being a Brownie was as good as it got in the mortal world, living in the home of a changeling, or more rarely a human, and keeping the house immaculate. A home within a home. A small exchange between human and fairy sealed the ancient pact. It didn’t matter where fairies were; rank and social standing was important. She’d thought the stuffy all-girls school she’d attended had prepared her for Court. It hadn’t.

The dogs laid down and looked relaxed, but their eyes never left her. And neither did his. He’d sought her, which meant he wanted something. What could a man with almost as much power as the King want from her? For half a second, she wanted to give him anything he asked for if he would help her get her father’s pardon. But that wouldn’t be a smart move.

She almost smiled—she did know something about Court and Annwyn politics, but caution made her careful. She had to confirm who he was first. “Your dogs?”

“They are, but don’t worry. They are well trained and won’t harm you.” He moved a little closer to her. “But there are plenty of others who would.”

She tilted her chin and held his gaze. Heat flared but was smothered so quickly she couldn’t be sure it had ever existed, and she was no human who would trip into the arms of a fairy without knowing the danger.

“But not you?” She tried to sound as though she believed those words. The Hunter was the King’s justice. He could literally do whatever he liked.

He took a slow look at her, from her bare feet, one toe adorned with a ring, to her now unraveled hair. Compared to the Ladies of the Court, she must look like she’d just tumbled out of bed. This was not how her mother would want her to present herself, yet nothing on his face suggested disappointment. Heat crept up her cheeks. She wasn’t used to such obvious assessment and interest.

He leveled his gaze at her. “I don’t think you are here to harm the King.”

“Is that why he asked you to follow me?”

He grinned as if he was having fun. “Most don’t come out and ask such questions of me.”

“Ah, well, I don’t know your name. To whom am I speaking?”

He gave her a fluid half bow. “Verden ap Hollis ap Lorcyn. Lord of the Hunt.”

Being right only made her more nervous. Yes, it was definitely nerves, not attraction, making her heart flutter. Then she realized he’d given her his full name freely; she should lower her gaze or drop a curtsy or something, and yet he didn’t seem to expect either.

“Why did you follow me?”

“It is my job to ensure the safety of the King and Annwyn. I always seek out new arrivals for a quiet talk.”

She almost believed that, but there was a glint in his eyes as if he were enjoying himself. Did he want to be here talking to her? No, she was imagining it simply because he was taking the time to talk to her. Men like him had their pick of women—mortal and fairy. She was just part of his job.

“And?”

He walked around her. “And I think you are intriguing, Taryn merch Arlea.”

Her heart lurched as a wave of homesickness washed over her at the mention of her mother’s name. Why was he suddenly being so formal? Or was he proving he knew all about her already? Did he know why she was here and was just hoping to hear it from her lips? Too bad. She kept her back straight and waited for him to face her again.

“I think the whole Court is going to find you interesting.”

“I know. I could tell from the whispers.”

“Do you want to know why?”

“New face?” She raised an eyebrow. Telling him the reason she was here was not a good idea. Not yet anyway. Maybe he’d help; maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe the price of his help would be too high. No, she was sure it would be too high.

“Plenty of people are crossing the veil and returning to Annwyn for safety. Few are coming to Court. And yet you did. And you were introduced, which also means it is your first time at Court.”

She nodded.

“That means you want something from someone at Court.”

If he wanted to know that, he’d have to work for it. She gave a casual shrug. “How badly do you want to know?”

He laughed. Both the dogs looked up as if startled. Did he not laugh often? That was a pity because when he laughed, his eyes lit up, and he went from beautiful to gorgeous. “I advise you not to be so bold with others. But yes, I do want to know why you are here. That is my job.” The good humor was gone.

“I’m under no obligation to tell you.”

He nodded. “Am I to think the worst then?”

She stepped back. “You may think what you want, but I am here for personal reasons. I don’t want to get caught in Court games.”

“It’s too late for that. You are here.” He touched her cheek. “And yet you don’t want to be. That’s why you were crying.”

She looked down, aware of the cool grass tickling her toes. While she might have been born here, this wasn’t her home. She didn’t know anyone. When she looked at those beautiful faces, all she saw were hollow eyes looking for something to entertain them. For the moment, that was her.

“It’s been an exhausting day…” Maybe she should have gone to her room. At least no one would have bothered her there. She could’ve stared at the ceiling until her brain tried to climb out of her skull with boredom. She took a step and he mirrored her movement. “I think I’ll return to the castle now.”

“So soon?” He raised one eyebrow.

“Weren’t you sent to drag me back to the castle?”

“Have you done something that would warrant me hauling you back to the castle?”

She shook her head. Not unless running and hiding was a crime here. Next time she wouldn’t venture so far from the castle…although if it meant running into the Hunter, maybe she would.

“Perhaps we could walk back to the castle together.” He offered her his arm.

For a heartbeat she stared at it. It was an offer she couldn’t refuse, and yet one she wasn’t sure she should take. Would it help or hinder her chances of getting the pardon? Refusing would definitely hinder. She had no doubt Verden would report back to the King.

She swallowed. “Let me put my shoes on.”

The dogs stretched and snapped their teeth as if impatient.

When she stood up, he was waiting. She carefully placed her arm around his. She was sure her fingertips tingled where their skin touched, but she was going to blame the magic of Annwyn, not lust. Wanting him would lead to trouble.

Would walking with him also bring trouble?

She didn’t know enough to make that decision. They walked out of the alcove and onto the tree-lined path. He was returning her to the castle. He could have lied about everything and she’d have no idea.

“If you’d like a tour of the castle or the grounds, I’d be more than happy to oblige. I know how difficult the first few days at Court can be.”

How could he know that? Taryn stopped walking and half turned to face him. Should she accept or play it cool? The silence expanded as she debated what to say. She was going to screw this up.


He frowned as if not understanding her reluctance. “Not everything here is a trap, Taryn. Some things are just as they appear—the trick is determining what is truth and what is a clever lie.”

“And how am I supposed to know if you make your offer out of kindness or cruelty?” Please don’t let this be some kind of trick. She needed to learn more about Court and he was willing to take the time to help her…or was he simply playing her to learn why she was here?

Did it matter when she still got what she needed?

“That is your decision to make.” He looked at her for a moment too long for it to be a casual observation. Something shifted in his eyes and she glimpsed a hunger that hadn’t been there before; then it was gone as fast as if she’d imagined it—a desire that would never be filled. A desire for what? Information? Power?

She wanted to trust him even though her mother’s warning echoed in her ears.

Don’t trust anyone, not even the King, until the pardon is issued.

But she had to trust someone because she couldn’t do this on her own.

Verden didn’t pull his arm free and stalk off; he waited for her to choose. This was a one-time offer. She knew he wouldn’t make it again, but she also knew she wouldn’t be free of him. He worked for the King, and he wanted to know why she was here. That could work in her favor. Perhaps with Verden she could get closer to the King.

When she looked at him, she didn’t want this to be about the King or anything else. She wanted to be shown the castle, and she wanted him to show her. Perhaps Annwyn wasn’t as alien and unfriendly as she first thought.

“I’d love a tour…if you have the time.”

He smiled, the one with warmth in it, not the other one that looked as though it had been carefully crafted to give nothing away. “For you I will always have time.”