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Generations passed and the people began to forget what was most important—love, courage, loyalty. That was their downfall—for in self-indulgent ignorance they allowed darkness to creep into the land like a thief in the night. It started out slowly.
The Merfolk let vanity take root deep in their hearts, the Dragons became greedy from the skies, the Giants grew bloodthirsty, the Humans covetous, the Shapeshifters prideful, and the Elves allowed apathy to squeeze compassion from their hearts.
With his greed dawned a new era of bloodshed, prejudice, addiction, and depravity.
Delight filled five-year-old Tempest as a ladybug crawled across her dirty knuckles, a bright splash of red against her own pale skin.
She turned and stared blankly as everything she loved was consumed by the fiery beast. The cottage released one last protesting groan right before the entire building collapsed. The earth rumbled beneath her abused feet as if acknowledging the end of a life.
Tempest liked to think that her mum would be proud of the woman her daughter had become; eighteen years old, fully grown, strong and healthy, and ready to take on the world as a Hound.
having anyone tell her how to act or look grated on her nerves to no end.
“I have no time for such things right now. Maybe not ever. I have more important things in my life than dealing with boys.” Boys lead to babes. Babes led to a life she didn’t desire.
Calm down. Anger is a distraction you cannot afford.
Stop thinking about them. Focus on your task.
Tears threatened to burst free, but Tempest battled them back. She refused to give anyone else in the damn arena another part of herself.
“There’s a reason why women bear the children. The all-knowing understood that we couldn’t handle such pain or such glory. We’re wicked, vain creatures as a whole. Could you imagine how men would act if they actually had the power to create life?”
You can do this. Come on, Tempest. You’re stronger than this. You passed the Trials. “You’re a lioness,” the servant whispered and squeezed her hand once before stepping away.
If there was one thing she hated, it was being backed into a corner or having her space invaded; both led to her coming out swinging. You can’t hit your sovereign.
However, regardless of whether you are successful or not, you must still return to my side when your research is done. Do not make me look for you.”
The soft kiss wasn’t disgusting, but she didn’t have a choice in the matter. And she hated that.
But as she fled the king, Tempest felt anything but blessed. She felt hunted.
His new Lady Hound, as King Destin was beginning to think of her, was certainly an interesting woman. Tempest seemed both far more mature than her eighteen years and woefully underdeveloped. Perhaps that was because she’d grown up around coarse, brash men without the company of the ladies of the court. It meant she was simultaneously bold, fearful, certain, and unsure. It was a wonderful mix. Easy to manipulate.
She’d no doubt produce fine, strong sons. Or beautiful, fierce daughters. Satisfaction filled him at the idea.
Tempest could fight all she’d like. He liked the hunt and with careful planning, she’d be bound to him by the end of the year and fat with his babes. And, with any luck, he wouldn’t have to kill a second wife.
People were so predictable and peculiar. Everyone was dying around them and yet they kept on with their gossip and flirtations as if nothing was awry.
“Care to watch and learn, luv?” Oh, he’s good. Beneath the shadow that the brim of his hat cast across his features was a sharp, handsome face, with a pointed chin and the kind of cheekbones Tempest had only seen illustrated in books of legends and fairy tales. She thought his eyes might be brown, but then he shifted slightly and they caught the light, and Tempest realized they were gold. Not amber or topaz or citrine. Pure, molten, unrelenting gold. They were perhaps the most astonishing eyes Tempest had ever seen. Wicked Hell, the man was handsome.
“We’re at an impasse. I don’t like it when someone pulls a blade on me so you shan’t be getting any information. Weapons don’t make friends, luv.” He scanned the darkened street. “And you can’t possibly best me and escape those who are hunting you. So, what are you going to do?”
She shut that thought down and held her sword up in warning. “A nice night for a run, is it not, gentlemen?” Her voice rang clear throughout the forest, but the men stayed silent as they circled her like a pack of animals. “Cat got your tongue?” “You’d best watch your mouth,” snarled the burly man to her immediate right. Tempest tightened her grip on her own sword even though every instinct inside her said to get as far away from the predators as possible, but that wasn’t who she was. She was a bloody Hound. “It’s my best feature, so I’m told,” she remarked. “Now, if you’re quite finished
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Idiots. Women were the most dangerous creatures to walk the world.
“Do you want to die?” he demanded. “Death is inevitable, but honor is easily lost,” she whispered, her fingers curling into fists to keep them from trembling. It would be so easy for him to tear out her throat. He froze and then huffed, the sound one part amused, the other part irritated. “Just because you know the words of my people, it doesn’t mean a damn thing.” “True.”
“Are you insinuating that women—” “I insinuate nothing. It is experience that has taught me to be cautious. Your kind enjoy the thrill of the exotic, but the consequences of such encounters usually yield imprisonment for males of my people.” She felt sick. “That’s not right. Everyone should be accountable for their actions, Heimseryan or Talagan,” Tempest said heatedly. “If both parties were willing, then there was no crime.” “You would think,” Briggs said, his hands gentle on her thigh as he unwound the gauze. “But that is not the way of the world, my lady. Talagans get the brunt of blame.”
“There are those pretty eyes,” he purred, his grin turning wolfish. “I hate when I’m ignored.” Tempest clenched her jaw and turned to gaze out the small window at the thick, green woods sheltering the cottage from the world. The kitsune had riled her just to get a reaction, and she’d fallen for his act. Idiot.
Pyre was no longer covered in dirt and blood. Instead, in a clean, white shirt, ebony leather breeches, and knee-high boots he looked every inch the gentlemanly scoundrel that he no doubt imagined he was.
“It’s not safe to ask questions. Questions have a way of haunting a person. Death sometimes follows closely behind.” “Ain’t that the damn truth,”
“You’re just full of wisdom, aren’t you, luv?” Pyre drawled. “Get smart or die.” “Incredible,” Nyx breathed. She laughed, the sound lovely. Bell-like.
It was a battle of wills, and Tempest loved it.
“Now, I know that appearances can be deceiving. Even those who have freedom might be as much of a slave as I was. The real problem is accepting it and not trying to make a change.”
“Natural enemies? All I see are two people here with different ways of life. Why should that make us enemies?”
“You don’t need to say anything. The blame is always placed before Talagan feet. The innocent judged as guilty and the guilty pretending to be innocent.”
“That is a blanket statement. Not all humans are evil, just as not all shapeshifters are evil. I don’t consider you a vile degenerate because of your heritage.” “But you don’t trust me,” Briggs said softly. “Even now, every line of your body is stiff as if preparing for an attack. I’ve cared for you for weeks now and still you’re wary.” “Old habits.” Tempest shrugged. “Not everyone is who they say there are. Blind trust isn’t something I give. Ever.” “If I was human, you wouldn’t act the same way.” She snorted. “If you were a woman, I wouldn’t act the same way. It has nothing to do with you
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there is a storm coming and bodies will litter the ground if we do nothing. I refuse to stand by and watch. We’ll have to choose a side.” “What if the sides aren’t human against shifters? What if they are corruption against innocence? Where do you think you’ll find yourself, Lady Hound?” “With the innocent.” Her first thought should have been the Crown. The thought didn’t sit well with her, just as Briggs’s increasingly difficult questions made her stomach twist uncomfortably. “I hope so,” the healer murmured. “The innocent need someone like you.”
“And there you go again, assuming I’m a hopelessly naïve, blind follower. I know things are not always what they seem. And besides, it was actually my mother who originally taught me the language, so I could read Talagan folktales with her. Hardly the most inflammatory of texts, one way or the other.” Make of that what you will.
“We lived close to the mountains, though. I think she’d grown up there, too. She loved Talaga. She loved shifters. Too bad they didn’t love her.”
I don’t give blind faith ever. Not to him, not to you, not to the king.” The traitorous words were supposed to be a lie, but they weren’t.
“You like to think you’re not blinded by lies, but you can’t think past the shite Destin fed you himself,”
“All this time you’ve let your prejudices blind you to what’s in front of you. You aren’t stupid, that much is obvious. So why do you still believe that my people are responsible for the deaths in the forest? That I’m responsible for them? How could you think such a thing?”
“You don’t know me. Think before you start to cast stones.” “Wise council from a glass house,”
Wicked Hell. She was going to slap him. “I think it’d be best if you leave.” His brows rose almost to his hairline. “You’re not the mistress here.” He leaned down, his nose brushing hers, his gold-amber eyes glittering. “Don’t ever presume to command me again.” “Understood. But if you ever touch me like that again, I will cut your heart out,” she said simply and meant every word. No one touched her without her permission. If she had to use her bare hands to rip his heart from his chest, she would. “Release me.” She jerked her arm from his grasp and took a step away from the kitsune, trembling
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“Having thoughts is not a crime,”
What if the sides aren’t human or shifter? What if they are corruption against innocent? Briggs’s question had haunted her for days. And, looking at the boy, she already knew her answer even if it meant standing against her king. Traitor.
“Everyone deserves to be treated with kindness and respect, no matter to whom they were born.” “A rare sentiment,” Rina commented softly. “For anyone.”
“Infuriating and obstinate and brainwashed, but still our best shot,” Pyre repeated like a furious mantra as he stormed through the woods and reached his front door.
Legs he wanted to run his hands and mouth along. Legs of the enemy.
What a sorry Hound she’d become. Out of shape, weaponless, and sympathizing with the enemy. My uncles would be ashamed.
