Page 1 of A Hunter for Luna

CHAPTER ONE

LUNA

I pressedmyself further into the shadow under the window seat, holding my breath and pulling my magic as tight to my skin as I could. Useless as it was, only good for unraveling other people’s spells, the feathery texture of it made me easy to find if I didn’t control it.

It was hard to concentrate on reigning in my magic, but the fear of being found made a good motivator. There would be even more pain when I was found.

Sofia, the governess hired to teach my sister to control her magic, rose from the settee she shared with my sister and walked toward my hiding place. She was plump and favored very wide skirts, though she moved as lightly as wind gliding over waves. Turning when she reached the window seat, she draped her skirts to the sides of her as she seated herself, the flowing dull green fabric providing additional concealment as the heavy footsteps approached.

Father had returned.

“Now, Rose, can you demonstrate for me again the Sun’s Fury?” Sofia’s voice, calm and kind, soothed almost as much as the rose scent she wore. Despite my father’s orders, she always found a way for me to watch the lessons, even if they didn’t really work with my magic.

I shifted so I could peek out of the tiny gap between Sofia’s skirt and the edge of the seat.

Rose cupped her hands, scrunching her face in concentration. Her long blonde curls bobbed as she nodded, her blue eyes focused on a point just above her hands. Her pale starlight magic swirled, then clumped into a warm silver-gold light a finger’s breadth above her palms. I squeezed down on my magic as it stirred, wanting to disrupt the energy she’d gathered.

My useless, useless magic.

The door crashed open, and our father strode in.

The light sputtered out, Rose’s hands trembling. Her anxiety hung in the air, almost tangible as our father walked into the room. At ten, she’d learned, as I had, not to provoke his temper.

Sadly, I did that by breathing.

Sofia rose, her skirts rustling, and I knew she inclined her head even though I couldn’t see it. “My lord. Have you come to observe Rose’s lesson?”

“No.” His voice, warm and smooth, carried an undernote of anger, and his presence filled the small schoolroom like dark smoke. “Where is Lunetta? I require her presence.”

“I have not seen her since Rose’s lesson began. As per your order, I saw her out the door before the lesson began,” Sofia replied with perfect truth.

She’d closed her eyes after shutting the door on me.

Father’s magic, sourced from the moon, coiled through the room, only to meet the slow burning fire of Sofia’s, preventing it from tunneling under the seat or entering the side of the room where she stood.

“Move, woman,” he said with soft menace.

“This is the best place for me to illustrate Rose’s lesson, my lord. I’m afraid I can’t accommodate your wish.”

He stepped closer to her, the glossy leather of his boot near my eye. My heart hammered and I fought the urge to pant.

“Do you know what I could do to you?” he asked, his voice soft as summer rain. I cringed inside. The angrier he became, the softer he spoke.

He towered over her. A large man, with strong hands, accustomed to the sword and fighting. Once he grabbed you, you couldn’t get free, no matter how hard you tried.

“Do you remember the penalty for harming one of Soulrider’s apprentices?” she asked, her tone and volume as smooth as if she were asking what sweetener he preferred in his tea.

In the pause, Rose and I hardly dared breathe. Father had raged when Canta, Rose’s mother, hired Sofia to teach Rose. She’d called in a favor owed to her family, and the Sorcerer Soulrider had sent his least favorite apprentice. But even his worst apprentice was better than any other teacher in the city.

Only Sofia knew what her contract with the Soulrider to teach Rose said, and she often invoked it in moments like this.

And Soulrider’s reputation was not merciful or sweet.

Father turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him.

"Continue," Sofia said after a moment, her voice unruffled. She reseated herself.

Even Father feared to anger a Sorcerer. For a man cursed with uncontrollable rage, he managed to find a modicum of control when his target might be more powerful than him.

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