What Lies Beyond the Veil (Of Flesh & Bone, #1)(38)

My Fae Mark warmed as the eyes of the Wild Hunt fell upon it, as if it recognized the immortal beings nearby, calling out to them and glowing in the darkness like a beacon. It wasn’t the same feeling as when it was about to kill, but a deep contentment that tried to settle itself within me. As if it had a mind of its own and wanted to soothe me, to tell me all would be right now. Somewhere in the group of hunters who’d joined us at the cliff face, someone laughed in disbelief. “Well, I’ll be damned,” the leader said from atop his horse, leading the steed closer to get a better look at me.

The other Fae male released my chin and placed his hands on my shoulder. He shoved it back into the socket suddenly and without warning, the sharp pain radiating through my body while I screamed out in surprise. Numbness settled into me in the wake of it, my body heavy with the weight of my shock.

My brother was gone, and I lived on in a world filled with decaying monsters and murderous, spectral men.

All that mattered was my brother. All that mattered was vengeance and finding whatever remained of him.

The male shoved his long, gray hair back from his face, moving to lift me off the ground with steady hands at my waist. I screamed, kicking my legs out until I caught him in the groin, grinning in satisfaction when I discovered that the ghosts of the Wild Hunt were just as weakened by a well-aimed kick as human men were.

Glaring at me as the other Huntsman staggered with a grunt, the leader tried to get a better grip so he could lift me onto the front of his horse. He jumped down from his mount, his heavy boots thumping against the ground as he landed in front of me. “Fine then. If you can’t play nice, you’ll ride with me, Beasty,” he said, reaching out to grab me from his companion. I sank down, making myself as heavy as possible until my ass hit the dirt beneath me. Grabbing a fistful of it, I cursed the magic of my Fae Mark for remaining silent while I truly needed it to protect me.

I threw the dirt in the leader’s face, grinning in satisfaction when his eyes closed suddenly as the grains struck him. He reached up to brush them off and I scrambled to get my good arm beneath my body. My ribs ached as I got my feet beneath me once more, pushing backwards and trying desperately to stand as the other male tried to get a grip on me.

“That,” the leader said, pausing as his white eyes gleamed and he wiped the last of the dirt from his face. “Wasn’t very nice.”

“I’m all out of fucking nice today,” I spat, hauling myself backward and trying to angle my body toward the cliff face. He stepped between me and my goal, shaking his head in silent reprimand. I fumbled around on the forest floor in the darkness, looking for anything I could use as a weapon.

Looking for the dagger Brann might have dropped after he tried to kill me. My heart hurt with just the thought of it, but there was no sign of the gleaming silver.

The best I did manage to find was a tree branch that even I would be able to snap in half with my bare hands, but I lifted it in silent threat anyway. A warning formed on my lips; I was ready to go down with a fight and give everything I had left. I didn’t care that it was a battle I was destined to lose.

I’d make them feel my pain.

A male body vaulted between us, the scraping sound of metal on leather bursting through the night as he unsheathed a sword. A single slash with the heavy weapon and the leader of the Wild Hunt stumbled back in surprise. My sudden protector took the opportunity to turn back and stare at where I lay sprawled on the ground in shock.

Familiar black eyes stared down at me, gleaming and furious, even as he held out a hand to help me up. Caelum growled, his lips curling back to reveal his white teeth. “I told you not to do something fucking foolish.”





13





I scrambled to my feet with a glare, my cheeks tear-stained as I wiped them furiously and raised my tree branch higher. “You couldn’t have come to the rescue sooner?” I asked, the bitterness I felt weighing my voice lower.

Caelum tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing on the way my body hunched over my aching ribs. “Apologies, Estrella. I’ll try to stalk you faster the next time you walk away from me.” Caelum shook his head at me as if I was amusing, turning back to where the leader of the Hunt stared at him like he’d been consumed by hysteria.

I had to imagine the Fae Marked didn’t usually run toward the danger of a life of captivity, but instead, as far away as they could manage. The Huntsman who’d wrapped his inky magic around my waist and prevented me from falling to my death stepped closer, tipping his upper body toward me as if that might protect his balls from my wrath.

I swung with my branch, following through on the swing even though he ducked back to avoid it. He chuckled, shaking his head from side to side as he stepped closer and evaded my second swing too. The branch was just too heavy for me to move with any speed, in spite of the adrenaline surging through my body as I fought for my freedom.

To my right, the sound of swords clashing together rang through the night. I glanced over, daring that moment of eye contact away from my opponent to watch Caelum move as if he was one with his blades. Wherever he’d trained, whatever his life had been, he avoided the leader of the Wild Hunt with a grace I’d never seen. His swords carved through the air gracefully, almost like he was dancing despite the bulk of his body and breadth of his shoulders.

He should have moved like a slug with all that muscle mass—more brawn than skill. Instead, he was as if carved from nightmares and crafted in sin. He was dangerous and beautiful and all the things a woman had no right to want for herself.