Page 45 of Bane of the Wild Hunt

I stopped and turned to him before he could react and slammed my hands into his stomach. The pulse that I sent through him was pure adrenaline and more than enough to make his heart feel like it was beating out of his torso.

Ciaran gasped, his hand clutching over his chest as he sank to his knees before me. Grass and shrub roots ripped themselves out of the frozen earth and grabbed his arms and legs so he could not move as I leaned over him.

“Keep. Pushing. See what it gets you,” I invited him, and I raised a hand between us as lethal claws lengthened on the hand I’d just used to heal Shay.

Ciaran’s breath sawed in and out of him, but he was a warrior who was used to having control of himself in the midst of battle. He quickly got his heart to settle and knelt silently glaring at me, tabby orange eyes glinting in the late afternoon sun. He could have used his fire magic to burn through the brittle roots I had used to restrain him, but he seemed unwilling to get into a full altercation. Probably because of all the eyes that I could feel watching us while the whispers began to grow louder.

I didn’t care. I could eat their food, wear their clothes, defend their vulnerable with my teeth and claws, with my magic and my blood, and I wouldneverbe one of them. I’d learned that the hard way many times.

“Sage says that riders do not fight in front of others,” Ciaran said, surprising me. “We present a united front.”

I glanced up and saw that we were close enough to the front of the line that Sage could see.

“Then maybe don’t pick fights with me,” I suggested to Ciaran who scoffed in response.

“I am not picking a fight! I just wanted to understand. You are the one getting defensive!” he objected.

“You may not perceive a difference between being respectful and confrontational, but there is one,” I advised him, smugly parroting his insult from earlier back at him.

Ciaran merely narrowed his eyes, and then he closed them with a grimace as if he were listening to something rather unpleasant. And I smirked when I realized he was probably getting an earful from Sage down their bond.

“Fine,” he bit out between his teeth, opening his eyes to glare up at me again. “Let me up, dryad.”

I swayed on my feet, tempted to simply walk away and let him free himself. But Sage would see. His people were scared, they were under attack from monsters, and they were looking to the Wild Hunt. I might not yet be a rider, and Ciaran was completely insufferable, but I did know that it was important to present a unified front.

So, I grudgingly compelled the roots to release Ciaran and even held out my hand. He hesitated, eying the offer like he’d rather cut off my arm than touch me, but he refrained from further hostility for the same reasons I had released him. He grabbed me, our forearms crossing over one another as I hauled him up to his feet.

“I only wanted—” he began, but I dropped his arm and turned away before he could finish.

I was surprised to see our vargr were also bristling at each other during our confrontation. Pyrope broke away from facing down Ciaran’s gold mount right away and trotted after me. Luckily, the prick did not pursue me this time as I stormed toward the front.

I saw Sage standing next to his beautiful portal at the front of the line. The centre rippled like the surface of a pond after every fey passed through. The oval, outer rim swirled with a frosty, red-and-gold mist like there were autumn leaves caught in a current. As I grew near, I could smell nutmeg and chrysanthemums wafting from it.

Sure enough, Sage was frowning in disappointment at me when I reached him, so I decided I was done taking criticism from everyone for one day. Once I was sure that he was still channelling safely, his magic wasn’t becoming too taxing for him, I opted to go through the portal and see what use I could be to the people on the other side.

I was not sure what I expected when I stepped through the portal to the late season settlement, but it certainly was not the confines of a dry ravine.

I tipped my head back in surprise, staring up in awe at the tall cavern walls on either side of me. The ravine was wide enough for two or three yurts across it with ample space around them for family fires. It extended on either side for as far as I could see, meaning the village would be spread out thin but perfectly shielded from the coming late season snow. An old forest encroached above, and I knew the evergreen trees would act as wind breakers against wind and squalls.

It would not be defensible, but at least there was lots of warmth emanating from the earth around me.

Someone was coming through the portal behind me with a cart, so I moved aside and got to work helping the nearest fey set up their tents. Those who had come earlier seemed to have been cooking all day to feed those of us still working, and the scent was comforting. Familiar.

I stayed as close to Sage’s portal as I could so I would know when he was done, and less than an hour after I’d come through, I heard a cheer. I looked up in time to see the portal’s gleam suddenly extinguished, but there were too many fey and tents to see Sage. But knowing he was near and safe was enough to settle my nerves.

And it was not long before he located me.

I did not look up, but I sensed him when he began to help me unload a cart into a yurt. I could see him in the corner of my eye as we worked in companionable silence.

“Are we not speaking?” he asked after a few moments, and I hesitated to glance up at him in surprise.

“I didn’t say that,” I said before lifting a trunk out of the cart to be carried inside.

“You haven’t saidanything,” Sage pointed out as he followed behind me with a large cooking cauldron.

“I am just very busy helping,” I objected, forcing an exasperated tone.

“You can barely look at me. Does this have to do with you making a fool of Ciaran in front of everyone?”

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