Jeriko’s teeth sink into the crisp apple, and the manic way she wipes the juices away with the back of her hand makes the magic within me scurry through my veins. She squints at me over her fruit, the intensity of her stare unwavering. Her animalistic behavior distracts my quiet thoughts.
Hating someone makes even the smallest things they do somehow become terribly annoying. Like the way Jeriko chews her damn food. Her lips smack loudly before she’s sucking the juices from the apple with a hiss. The noise makes my stomach turn. It’s the simple things about her that make me even more wary of my place among my companions.
If Jeriko had the opportunity to kill me, I know she would. The magic of the Wild Hunt has poisoned her mind after so many years in service. All she longs for is the kill, the hunt, and the consumption of souls, my soul included. At least that’s what I tell myself since I’ve never been so fiercely hated by someone who wasn’t family before.
What the Fae isn’t smart enough to realize is that my father will tear my soul from my body long before anyone else gets the chance to.
I’m surrounded by death as I wait for my own.
“You gonna stare daggers at Jeriko all night, every night, Vi?” Carver lowers himself to the ground, taking a seat at my side.
I pull my gaze away from Jeriko, pretending to clean the dark edge of my blade with rapt attention. A dark and glinting scar lines my knuckles. The mark of the Wild Hunt. We all wear it.
For two years, I’ve ignored the others exiled to the same measly existence as me. I didn’t intend to, at least not at first, but I’ve sunken into my thoughts entirely. So much so that I forget who I am all too often. I’m hollow, isolated in my own mind, and the only thing that claws me out of my own darkness are my three petty reasons to live.
I wish I could reach out to Carver the way he does me, but I... don’t. The will to be the person I used to be isn’t there anymore, even if I crave the attention and hope he’ll find a reason to lean a little closer.
Everyone can thank my father for my raging “daddy issues.”
My father, King Melic, sentenced me to the Wild Hunt at the age of eighteen. It’s a lonely life. And on the off chance I do get to meet new people, I kill them.
Not too many people are lining up to be my friend.
Except for Carver, who can’t seem to take a hint to save his forgotten soul. It’s amusing really, how he reaches out to me every night, trying to engage me. But at this point, I’ve sworn a vow of silence.
Once upon a time, I had a real life, a good life. I was torn from it and hidden away. Perhaps it was because I’m too powerful or maybe my father hated me, or it was just too damn easy to throw me away. The real reason probably doesn’t matter anyway.
It’s astounding how easy it was for my family to shut me away. To forget about me.
“You don’t have to ignore me. I’m one of three people who can actually see you. Would it be so bad to pass the time with a little conversation?” Carver’s lavender eyes meet mine, and for a second, I consider breaking my silence. His eyes are soft and kind, opposite to the hard-glaring gazes of Jeriko and Nollix. He’s wild though. Just as wild as the magic that flows through the four of us.
All magic is a dangerous thing, a deadly thing. It’s a rare skill that requires years of training. Especially wild magic that’s unpredictable and hard to tame. Like mine. So, I’ll keep my silence. I’ll carefully maintain the walls I built between my three companions and myself. I’ll keep the distance.
A shining black scar slices through his lower lip, kin to the scar across the back of my hand. Each mark is a small token of the rampant magic of the Wild Hunt that slowly consumes us all.
Our fire spits embers into the dark night sky. The reflection of the flames on my weapon allows the trickle of memories to creep in. In the flickering light, I can envision the nights I danced in celebration at the Court of Darkness. That freeing feeling of those long-ago days threatens to fill my chest, but I shove the memories back down where they belong and focus on the mundane task of cleaning my sword.
“Blink if you can hear me,” Carver jokes and tips forward on the log, trying to catch a better view of my face.
My eyes flare wider. I’ll have a staring contest with this sword all night long if I need to. I swear I’ll never blink again.
Don’t tempt me, Carver,I answer in my head.
“She’s mute. Not deaf.” Nollix huffs. I know he’s somewhere on the other side of the fire, stretched out across a thin blanket watching Carver’s pathetic attempts, but I don’t look up. Not even for a chance to meet his steely blue gaze.
A gust of wind tousles my hair. Flames dance and spark across the wood. The ashy taste of magic hits the back of my tongue at the same time goosebumps trail over my skin.
I manage to swallow the urge to gag as I stand and shove my weapon back in the sheath that’s belted at my hips. I threw up the first time the demands of our job pulled us to work. Jeriko had laughed and laughed. Since then, I’d rather swallow my vomit then let her see me like that again.
Magic creates a prickling sensation that starts at my fingertips, the dirt and grime on my skin turning slowly to shimmering dust. Black oozes from the scar, its metallic color sparkling over my knuckles, eating away at my skin. I’m flaking away in the wind, little more than loose grains of sand. It’s a tingling feeling, like numbness is trying to settle into my veins.
My chest grows tight with a knowing sense of dread. The ends of my blonde hair whip across my face, and I stand unflinching for what’s about to come. There is no running from it. There is no stopping it. I learned that lesson early.
“Shit, another one?” Nollix groans as he sits up to watch his hands disappear as well. His body starts to blow away, lost to the calling breeze. Our gazes meet. My attention trails over the thin, black scar that creeps up his neck and kisses his jawline. I have to force myself to look quickly away from him as a blush heats my cheeks.
“Stop complaining. The chase is the best part.” Jeriko’s depthless eyes shine with gleaming excitement.
The constant maliciousness in her gaze terrifies me, but I’ll never let her know that. Fear is a weakness, something I’ll never let control me.
