The scars slicing across his face and arms tells a harrowing story of violence and brutality that I can’t even imagine. Judging from the way he glares at me as if his single eye could make me my heart implode in my chest, I can only fathom just how much he despises humankind, and just how many of his war wounds were given to him at the hands of innocent humans who were likely just defending their lives.
With Malachi turned away from him, the disgruntled noctis doesn’t see the prince roll his eyes. The dark-haired friend smirks as well, his amusement seeming misplaced but maybe that’s just because I can’t seem to find anything comical about the way the new noctis is looking at me.
“Well, Harland,” the prince answers, pivoting to face him. “I’d say it looks like a girl.”
“I know it’s a fucking girl,” Harland sneers from behind a thick beard as black as lichen. His one exposed eye cuts to the prince. “What are we doing just standing around talking to it? Let’s kill the bitch and be done with it!”
Harland’s fists bulge like boulders colliding into each other, the noctis preparing to come forward and apparently handle my death himself. This seems personal, but I can’t yet figure out why.
Thankfully, the prince catches him before he can make it very far.
“No.”
“No?” The rage in Harland’s voice makes the very blood in my veins shudder. “What the fuck do you meanno? You can’t deny me this, Malachi!”
“Actually, I believe I can.”
“He can,” whispers the smug dark-haired friend.
Harland vibrates with rage, but at the sound of the white-haired noctis’ voice, he stills.
“Come on, Malachi,” she says sweetly. “You don’t really mean that. She murdered his brothers, after all. Surely, he’s earned himself a taste, if not the entire meal?”
His brothers?
Shit.
Ice chills my veins. My death suddenly seems so much more imminent than I was allowing myself to believe.
She must mean the two noctis I encountered earlier today, Gregor and Boris. After everything I’ve been through today, I almost forgot about them. Looking at Harland now though, I can see the resemblance in their rugged natures, and that broken-shaped nose they all seem to share.
Shared.
What dumb luck that I’d run into the brutish brother of a noctis I’d aided in killing.
What dumb luck that they evenhavea brutish brother.
Unless our crossing of paths is no accident at all. But how could it not be? If they knew I’d been involved in his brothers’ deaths, then they had to know about Rowland’s community. Shouldn’t they be ambushing them instead of trapping one measlycreature?
Maybe the ambush will happen later. Maybe first they needed bait.
They’d be better off using someone that anyone gives two shits about.
Someone like Elison…
The prince waves them both off.
“Your brothers will be avenged. We came here to secure more donations for the Hunt.”
Double shit…
This day just keeps getting better and better.
Why couldn’t I have been trapped by a normal crazy human instead of one working with a bunch of noctis to fuel their annual bloody games?
Come to think of it, who the fuck works with the noctis? If I ever see that woman again, I’ll—
“If you want her throat, you’ll have to bite it fair and square like everyone else participating. Until then”—the prince turns to his friend— “throw her in the back with the other prisoners. The king will be pleased to know we’re bringing such a feistycreatureto Nigh.”
