Blayne swore and jerked back, nearly throwing Darren from his saddle.
“The man is a cripple,” the older boy snipped. “Let me have this, brother. You know father will be impressed.” His eyes were as merciless as Lucius himself.
Darren did the only thing he could manage; he snatched his brother’s bow and brought it against the horn of his saddle as hard as he could.
There was a satisfying crunch as the stave splintered in two.
“How dare you!”
Darren kneed his mare in the sides, dancing just out of Blayne’s range before he could land a hit. Let Blayne try to hunt a man without his bow.
The boy savored a moment of victory as he took off in a gallop across the trail. He would find game away from his brother while the older boy sulked. The mutt yipped as he followed along.
And that’s when Darren heard Blayne’s call, a sharp whistle, and the baying of his hound. There was a blur of black as the animal took off down the ravine, tearing up roots and grass as it lunged.
Darren had forgotten the animal. Blayne could still hunt the knight.
The boy turned just in time to see his brother take off after his hound in the same direction that Sir Chadwick had fled.
The sun was starting to set, the bright orange and crimson a fire against a sea of black, as Darren pulled on his reins, taking a sharp turn after his brother.
And then they were off, headed down the ravine, through a sea of branches tearing up his arms and legs, and up the other side of the ledge.
It was close to an hour when Darren finally caught up to his brother.
Sir Chadwick was trapped on a ledge. There was a narrow valley below, but the fall was treacherous. Blayne’s hound was snapping and nipping at his heels.
The man was pleading for his life as the older boy pressed in, fingering a knife Darren hadn’t known he had.
The sky was a looming cloud of violet as Darren urged his own steed forward. The rocky face was precarious, and the last thing he wanted was to break another arm. He already felt weak and dizzy from too many hours on the road. It wasn’t an unbearable pain, but it wasn’t pleasant, and his temper ran shorter than most.
“Blayne!” the boy yelled. “That’s enough.”
“I didn’t ask your opinion, brother.”
Blayne was still furious at Darren’s betrayal. This wasn’t the crown prince; it was a boy who had spent too much time in the dark.
Somewhere behind them, a bay of wolves called out to the night.
Darren stifled the chill that ran down his spine as his horse fidgeted, skittish after the answering howl.
For a moment, Darren caught a flicker of indecision in his brother’s stance. The boy latched onto it with a sharp command. “Let’s get back to the palace, Blayne. It’s too dark and Father will be looking for us.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Please, your highness…”
Darren’s gaze shot to the knight.
The man’s chest was rising and falling, his hands white against the sword in his grip. The offense for striking a prince was death, even in self-defense. But from the twitch of his fingers, Darren suspected the man was going to fight if it came down to his life or the prince’s.
Something squeezed at Darren’s lungs; he didn’t want to choose between an innocent man and his brother.
There was another howl, this time much closer than before.
Darren swung in his saddle just in time to spot the first beast making its way through the brush. Another black snout joined the first. In seconds there was a pack of eight. Bristling bodies with yellow eyes locked on the trio above.
The hunters were now the hunted.
“Blayne.” Darren’s warning was low. The leader was on its haunches, teeth bared in a growl.
But the crown prince was too busy taunting the knight. “Should have known better. And now you’ll—”
There was a snarl from the hound, then a panicked shout and the whinny of a horse. Darren spun—forgetting the danger ahead as he turned, his bow ready and armed—to find only his brother on the ledge.
There was a loud crash below.
More commotion followed, tumbling rocks and a man’s scream as he plummeted down the cliff’s side.
“Blayne!”
Blayne’s eyes were wide and his lips were white. “Darren, I didn’t mean…” His words trailed off as he spotted the predators behind him.
Too late.
The beasts had just spotted much easier prey than two princes. Their eyes locked on their steeds and hounds.
The leader, a black wolf with a silver chest, took off down the ravine, the others following. Excited yips crowded the air as the hunters gave chase.
Darren heard rather than saw the moment they reached the horse down below.
Blayne’s eyes were wide and afraid. Whatever bravado he’d carried before was gone, and now he was looking to his younger brother—his protector. “We’ve got to get out of here!”
But Darren was already dismounting. In a second, he was on the ground as he handed his brother the reins. “Go find us help, Blayne.”
“Darren—”
All his life he’d faced a monster that won; these monsters weren’t the way it would end. Not them, and not his father.
Darren wasn’t afraid.
The boy took off, splaying dirt as his boots hit the slope, kicking up roots and pebbles as he slid down the steep ravine, fighting to keep hold of his bow.
It was times like this he wished he didn’t feel pain. His arm throbbed each time he hit a bit of brush.
The mutt beat him to the man. Darren hadn’t expected it to follow; the little dog was half the size of his brother’s hound.
When they reached the base, two of the wolves were tearing into the knight’s mare several yards away. The boy jerked his gaze away, feeling a pinch in his throat.
Sir Chadwick was on the ground, rivulets of blood dripping down his face as he struggled to stand, a blade shaking in his fists.
The shaggy dog growled and leaped, catching the nearest wolf off-guard as it ripped a bloody trail from its throat.
The wolves were circling the knight, getting closer as their barks took on an excited pitch. They didn’t even notice the boy and his mutt.