Page 64 of Hunt Me

Up ahead, the terraces begin to rise toward the edge of the cliff where Legion took off earlier. I glance around, suddenly feeling as if we’re not alone out here, but there’s no one else in sight.

Kendall seems unaffected, so I force my paranoia to the side.

“The front gate is locked,” I tell her. “But I saw a path back here earlier.”

“And you don’t think Legion will care that we went out?”

I catch myself before firing off a rant about autonomy and not giving in to the resident dragon like he’s some kind of prison warden. Instead, I say lightly, “We’ll bring him back a donut just in case.”

Kendall grins.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” she says, admiring the gardens as we walk.

“Yeah, no poisons though,” I say wistfully. “This way.” Just before we reach the last terrace, I turn left. The path veers downward with small stone steps cut into the ground. It’s a sharply descending cutout, only wide enough for one of us at a time.

At the bottom, there’s an iron gate where we pass through a narrow breach in the castle wall. On the other side, the stone pavers end, and the trail widens into a dirt path.

Kendall falls into step beside me as we walk.

I cast furtive glances toward the sky. Legion’s departure was tense and abrupt enough that I felt sure he’d stay gone a long while. But now that we’re out here, without leaving so much as a note in our absence, I’m suddenly hoping we’ll be back before Legion returns with his witch. He won’t be happy to find we’ve skipped out on him, and I don’t want to be close by when he realizes we’re gone.

“This place is not what I expected at all,” Kendall says, and I turn my attention from the skies to the terrain.

The mountainside is dotted with craggy rock formations interspersed with thick pines that press in on both sides of the dirt road. The scent of cold pine needles is refreshing, and the moonlight reflecting down at us offers a cozy blanket of peace. Or it would be peaceful if I wasn’t going to come home to a grumpy, obsessive dragon, risking his wrath in the process.

“Look, a road,” Kendall says excitedly.

I hurry to keep pace as she runs to the intersection ahead. Thanks to the trees, I can’t see around either corner. As I get near it, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Kendall, wait!”

On our left, a brown bear rounds the edge of the trees. Its fur coat is mangy and missing in places like it’s been in a fight recently. Its yellow eyes glow in the low light, wild even for a shifter, and I watch as it scans the clearing with teeth already bared. Like it just wants to attack something.

The moment it spots Kendall and me, it goes utterly still.

I stand frozen as the moment stretches like time suspended. I want to call out that we’re not a threat, but something holds me back from making noise. Something about the animal is off.

From somewhere farther away, a howl sounds.

The bear flinches as if the howl woke it then opens its mouth and lets out a guttural roar. When it finishes, it starts running straight for my sister.

“Kendall!” I race toward her and shove her aside at the last second. The bear’s claw catches my hip, and I’m sent to the ground as pain slashes through my side.

When I look up, the bear is gnashing its teeth at me, its glowing eyes focused like a predator about to strike. I see a madness in its eyes—a lack of control that tells me there’s no stopping this thing, not short of killing it, anyway.

“Tor,” Kendall says, her voice trembling with fear.

“Don’t come any closer,” I tell her, scrambling to my feet. I wince at the pain that shoots through my left side when I walk but force myself to keep moving.

The bear growls, facing us down with the confidence of a predator who knows it has cornered its prey. I try not to think about it. Instead, I focus on Kendall.

“I’m going to draw it away from you,” I tell her. “When I do, run into the trees, and find one to climb.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Don’t worry about me. Climb, and don’t come down until I tell you.”

“Tori, you can’t fight that thing.” Kendall’s voice shakes again, and my throat clogs with emotion I can’t afford to let myself feel right now.

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