Page 15 of Hunted in Holly

In the howling wind, I shimmied to the edge of the cliff, and I started down the side, lowering myself back into the trees. From my vantage point, I’d seen the expanse of the lake, only partially frozen and only a mile or two away. In another month it would likely be solid ice, but in December, there were still a few large gaps in the ice sheets, with direct access to unfrozen water.

I dropped into the waiting snow below, then started running for the lake. So many of the trees had been disturbed by both yesterday’s tussle and the growing storm, and the powder was whipping through the branches. I didn’t worry much about covering my tracks anymore.

My assailant still hadn’t appeared, but I knew he moved quickly and stealthily, so I didn’t suspect he’d give himself away that easily. The whistle of the wind made itdifficult to track any sounds beyond my own crunching footsteps, anyway.

My breaths were heavy, and the frost stung my lungs. I was damn near wheezing by the time I broke into the clearing.

The lake came into view, stretching a mile or more in every direction. Broken shards of not quite frozen ice were bunched along the shoreline, cutting into piles of surrounding snow, and the largest sheet was only a few inches thick. It would be dicey, but it would be enough.

I took a deep inhale, counted, released, then cycled again, until I’d calmed my heart and breathing rate again. Back in sound mind, I started crafting a little surprise for my dear hunter. I already had the perfect bait in mind.

Chapter 11

I slept in after a long night of fending off creatures of the night. Apparently, my Sweet Noel wasincrediblyattractive to the monsters who guarded my forests. Though that shouldn’t surprise me. They had exquisite taste.

But still, it had been exhausting. I lazily enjoyed a full and proper breakfast, figuring I’d give Caroline plenty of time to wake up and prepare herself for the day to come.

I had my chef wrap a sandwich for my little dove. She wouldn’t eat it willingly, whether she needed it or not, but I didn’t mind having to force her to take care of her needs. Considering how quickly she came on my fingers, she’d clearly been deprived ofeveryneed in the past, and I was planning to remedy that. I secured the libations in my satchel, then I threw on my red coat, and headed into the forest.

The wind was whipping about wildly today. I welcomed the sting against my cheeks, feeling alive for the first time in ages as I set out to chase down my bride-to-be.

I moved swiftly through the pine trees, searching for the first traces of cloves and dainty footprints. She’d abandoned her shelter, though not without writing“Catch me if you can, asshole”in the snow first. For someonepretending to be so inconvenienced by the game, she was certainly having fun with it.

The worsening weather had helped hide her trail much better today, but there were still traces of her scent on every tree branch that brushed against her. She’d been sloppy in her escape. Much sloppier than yesterday.

I weaved my way deeper into the woods until I came upon Sugar Cookie Lake. Her footprints stopped at the edge of the water, switching to small, narrow ruts from ice skates that cut along the surface of the frosted ice layer.

I moistened my lips as I lifted my attention to the beautiful image of a woman dressed in green, spinning on skates constructed by polar magic. She was as graceful as the wind itself, as she glided over the ice in sweeping circles, and danced to a melody all her own.

Even as I arrived, she remained completely unbothered. We locked eyes, and she didn’t so much as falter in her playful routine.

Was my Sweet Noel laying a trap for me?Oh, I hope so.Water seemed like a perfect weapon for someone who’d only mastered winter magic.

I took a step onto the hardened layer. It was about three inches thick, only covered about half of the lake, and it cracked and swayed atop the water as I mounted the rigid but slick surface. The speed and lightness of her movements were the only reason she was able to navigate such a volatile ground for as long as she had.

“You skate beautifully, Sweet Noel.” I called to her as I approached. My boots were already equipped with skates of my own that surfaced whenever they might be needed. I glided across the natural rink to meet my queen.

“And you skate like you were born on the Equator.” She teased, as she landed a full triple axel with impressive ease.

A challenge? I’d gladly oblige.

I joined her in her spins and figure eights, first just following her sweeping lines, as she neared ever closer to the dangerous edge of the ice sheet. She ran from me, and I loved giving chase in this playful design.

I could outrun her easily in the snow, but on this natural ice rink, she was a force to be reckoned with.

“How long do you think you can evade me?” My grin was sly as I changed my path and swiped to catch her. She reacted immediately, using her momentum and dipping into a spin that put her at my back.

“Until I have your head on a pike, Saint.” She purred with a catlike grin. My cock twitched at the threat spoken in her honeyed voice.

“Then I’ll delight in our eternal waltz.” I met her elegance with speed and power, increasing the tempo of our icy tango. She weaved with an adept precision over the surface, even when the thin ice cracked or the fractured sheet separated, and she had to patch her path with her energy in real time. A smile painted her face, and I knew she was enjoying our time together as much as I was. I couldn’t resist that perfect joy for another second.

I broke the rhythm just as she’d started to match and trust my movements, then I hooked an arm around her waist before she could slip away. I swept her into my arms, and I twirled her in the air above my head, her jade coat billowing with the wind and the movement. Snowflakes clung to her locks and her long eyelashes, shimmering and sparkling like stars in her darkness, while her body, herweight, her soft warmth, her everything all felt so perfect in my hands.

I immediately caught the shift in her body language as she switched from romance to violence, being a set of emotions I was very well versed in. Before she could turn our magical moment into murder, I returned her feet to the ground, and spun her tight against me. I held my queen in a cocoon of my arms for long enough to drink in the growing hate in her eyes, then I released her and returned to our separate but synchronized skating.

Her expression was of a woman rattled, more by a blush than rage, but she continued to carve the ice like she was still the one in control.

She was, whether she knew it or not. I would follow this woman anywhere.

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