Page 14 of Untethering Dark

The tree didn’t deserve that.

Shrieking, the orange-clad human instinctively flung their arms up to cover their head, but they kept on running, hardly a break in their stride.

Astrid began to chase after them, but a terrible howl filled the air, a hunting cry that reverberated down to the bone. Fear drove its icy daggers into her spine, freezing her in place, a Winter Hag’s daughter. The irony of that wasn’t lost on her.

In all her years, she only ever heard the beast prowling at night. But he was already so close, too close, and the sun not quite set. Perhaps this was retribution for narrowly evading him the other night.

An offering was still owed. And Altes Geweih wouldn’t accept excuses.

She could run like the hikers. But even if she managed to outpace them, despite their head start, the strategy “don’t be the slowest in the herd” wouldn’t work. Altes Geweih wasn’t like a bear or a wolf or another woodland predator. Their bellies filled long before their anger was sated. Once Altes Geweih marked his prey, he did not stop hunting, not until all who offended him were devoured, bones and all. Satiable but a completionist.

Running was futile. It was better to spend her final moments with dignity, not desperation.

Grim acceptance settled over her, numbing her fear—at least, for now.

“I’ll be back, Altes Geweih,” she said, her voice steadier than it should’ve been. He had to know she wasn’t running, wasn’t hiding. She made a choice, after all, and it would not be misunderstood for cowardice. “I’ll just be a moment.” And in that time, she’d leave a message for Perchta and Johanna, so they knew why she disappeared without a word or a trace.

The air practically vibrated with his presence.

While she didn’t feel his hot breath beating down the back of her neck, she half expected to see him when she turned around.But no. There was just the snow, a trampled garden, and golden firelight lighting up the inside of her cottage.

She felt his eyes on her though, boring holes into her side. If she looked off into the trees, she was certain she would see him lurking in the rapidly waning light. Would see bloodred eyes staring back.

Keeping her own eyes trained forward, Astrid calmly retreated into her home, her chin held high.

After scribbling a farewell note, she swiped a labeled jar from her cupboard, then the plate of Springerle on the kitchen table.

Dammit if she wasn’t going to eat at least one more.

Chapter Four

Curiosity was easier to stomach than fear.

And Astrid had always been curious about the monster who feasted outside her home each night. Where he came from, how long he’d lived, and what he made of the changing world around him. She wondered too what he looked like, and now she’d finally get that answer. It would cost her a steep price, yes, but the toll was already as good as taken. Might as well enjoy satisfying her curiosity, even if it was brief.

No blade could pierce Altes Geweih’s hide, nor was her witch’s magic strong enough to fend him off. Maybe with Perchta’s help it could be managed, but summoning her into this mess was risky. Astrid wouldn’t put her mother’s life in danger to save her own skin.

Armed with little more than a plate of fresh-baked Springerle, Astrid shoved one into her mouth before stepping outside.

Altes Geweih was waiting for her at the empty tree stump, where she always left him offerings. She stumbled through her next step.

Self-preservation had always won out over curiosity, keeping her tucked away inside her cottage, away from the windows. Better to remain out of sight, out of mind. No peek at the forest beast was worth her life.

Imagination was all she had, and it failed miserably.

Raw strength rippled across his muscles, chest heaving as panted breaths steamed in the winter night air. Antlered like a great elk, he had a bleached-white skull for a face, some cross between bear and saber-tooth tiger, and a mouth full of fangs curling inward. But apart from those exposed facial bones, therest of him was covered in flesh and fine, short brown fur, so dark that it was almost black.

Lean, corded arms fell past powerful thighs, claw-tipped fingers dark as deep earth grazing the knee. Though he was broad in the chest like a Werwölfe, the proportions of his limbs were longer than hers, or a human’s. His feet were hooves, and his flanks were dappled white like a deer, bipedal but digitigrade. While that was an unusual combination of features, Altes Geweih was a seamless hybrid. A case study in predator meets prey.

He was not what she expected.

Looking at him was like taking in a grand mountainscape or a sprawling vista. A piece of a sublime old world enduring the ravages of time and human touch. Such persevering things demanded reverence and awe.

Astrid drank in the view, absorbing all the details. The first time would also be the last. And she wouldn’t miss a single thing.

Nestled in a thicker patch of fur between his legs, that matched the rest of his proportions...

Pointed ears pricked toward her as her breath caught.

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