A Hunt So Wild and Cruel (Wicked Darlings) by Rebecca F. Kenney

Author:Rebecca F. Kenney [Kenney, Rebecca F.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-01T16:00:00+00:00

17

I could devour twice the amount of food on the little silver cart, but I content myself with what’s there, finishing the last of the roasted venison just as Lauriel emerges from her bedroom, simply clad in a tunic and leggings, with her black hair loose, flowing down to her waist in shining waves. Her usually snow-white cheeks are still stained rosy, and I’ll warrant her bottom bears a similar flush. Fuck, the way I want to bend her over and bury myself deep inside her—but I can’t. I have work to do.

“You’ll need a coat or a cloak,” I tell her. “Possibly a scarf and mittens.”

She rolls her eyes, ducks back into her room, and returns a few minutes later, draped in a thick cloak with a big hood. There’s a red scarf around her slender throat, but her fingers are bare.

When I summon my sword to my hand again, Lauriel eyes the weapon shrewdly.

“That’s your weakness, isn’t it?” she asks. “It can be used to cause you pain. How?”

I hesitate, but if I’m to fully gain her trust, I must give her mine in return. “This sword must never be sheathed. If even a part of the blade is covered, I suffer—worse if it’s entirely sheathed.”

“And your superiors in the Wild Hunt—they’ve used this against you before? To punish you?”

“To teach me. Yes.”

“Seems as though you three have been poorly treated during your time with the Hunt.”

I shake my head. “We all deserved it for the pain we caused others.”

“But you were conscripted into this Hunt against your will, were you not?”

“We are fortunate to serve as emissaries of justice and retribution,” I answer carefully. “Without our work, the realms would be far worse places than they are.”

“Hm. So how does it work, your sword? How does it show us the present?”

With a grin, I stretch out my arm, holding the tip of the sword up as if I’m about to land a blow. “Watch.”

I swing the sword, following a downward arc, and the air splits at the tip of the blade, carving a gash in the very fabric of time and space. Beyond, through the widening slit, Lauriel and I glimpse a city street with snow-trampled sidewalks, lighted shop windows, and bustling pedestrian traffic.

“This is our destination,” I tell her. “The events you’re about to see unfolded near you today, though you weren’t aware of them.”

“Still—it’s the past, isn’t it?” She cocks an eyebrow at me. “The recent past, but not strictly the present.”

“If you want to be technical about it—”

“I do.”

“Very well. It’s your recent past. Now take my hand, and let’s be off.”

Her slim fingers feel so tiny, so breakable. I try to ignore the quiver in my heart as I lead her through the aperture I carved, into the streets of the capital.

“There you are, see?” I point to the royal carriage passing by, flanked by guards on horseback. “You’re waving.”

“I thought I was smiling more,” Lauriel says slowly. “I look positively miserable.”

“You don’t have to smile all the time.

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