Page 57 of Of Nine So Bold

Recognition teased at the edge of my memory. Something about him was familiar. His eyes, maybe. Or the harsh lines of his face, burned though it was.

The truth hit me. “I… I know him. He’s the Huntsman the queen ordered to take me into the mountains and cut out my heart. But he didn’t. He spared me and let me escape.” A breath rushed from me, wonder and horror so tightly entangled in my chest, I couldn’t separate them. “He’s the reason I survived to meet you all.”

My men froze.

“He swore it wasn’t mercy, leaving me in the mountains like that. He said it’d be better to let him kill me so I wouldn’t suffer the cold. But when I begged to live… he disobeyed her command and let me run anyway.”

On the ground, the Huntsman struggled to rise, even though his body was so burned, movement had to be excruciating. His sword slipped away from the slick flesh of his melted fingers, but still he reached for it over and over again.

I couldn’t understand why he kept trying. “Stop. Please. We’re not going to hurt you.”

“Can’t…” Agony filled his eyes, even as he continued straining to grab the sword. “Can’t…”

Slow horror spread through me as a terrible possibility presented itself. My stepmother had a way about her. A trick I hadn’t seen until the night she framed me for the murder of my father.

She’d whispered in my maid’s ear and made Fironia say things she otherwise never would have. She’d turned that sweet girl into her puppet.

But this was so much worse.

“Um,whycan’t you stop?” Lars asked warily, as if he had the same suspicion I did.

“Queen’s… command…”

“Fuck,” Clay whispered.

The demon harrumphed. With one clawed foot, he pinned the Huntsman’s arm.

Agony deepened on the Huntsman’s face at the weight of the demon on his burns. But sorrow was there too. Grief so deep, it surpassed even his pain.

And still his shoulder lurched like he was trying to move.

I stared at him. “She did this to you?”

His head twitched in a nod. “Bound me… as punishment. The oath to serve the queen… became this. I let you live, so now I… I can’t…” A raspy, rattling sound left him, like a breath from lungs so damaged, they shouldn’t still be able to draw air. “I can’t die.”

My mouth moved in horror, at a loss for words.

“Tied me to her service.” He groaned, his shoulder lurching in an attempt to break the demon’s hold. “Never to stop, not even for death.”

“That is dark and terrible magic.” Appearing stunned, Byron lowered his hands where he’d extended them toward the Huntsman. “Even for her.”

“Princess.” The Huntsman rocked harder, struggling to rise though nothing on his face said he wanted to. “Her power… binds me. My words. Can’t… can’t speak for long. This creature’s fire loosened the spell… but it’s coming back. I feel it.”

“What do you need?” I asked him. “What can we do?”

“Kill me.”

Oh gods.

“I beg you.” His voice turned desperate as his body rocked again, fighting to stand. “Please. Kill me. Let me die.”

I wanted to cry. To scream in horror that she would do this to someone whose only crime had been to spare me.

And now the only thanks I could give him for that would be death.

With effort, I made myself nod. “Okay. We—” I glanced at my men, seeing gut-wrenched looks all around.

But Byron’s eyes were narrowed, his eyes running over the Huntsman like he was seeing more than merely the burned wreckage of a man.

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