Page 16 of What Hunts Inside the Shadows

“They have been completely insufferable,” the leader of the Wild Hunt said, steering his skeletal horse closer. He stopped just in front of me, but his eyes remained pinned on Caldris at my side. “The next time you think to leave them with me—don’t,” he warned, dismounting with a grace that defied logic.

Where all the other spirits floated awkwardly, appearing lost, this man was a person in all ways.

Except he wasn’t.

His ears were lightly pointed at the tips where his darkly shadowed hair was pulled back from his face, falling into the fur-lined hood of his cloak. Those white eyes were eerie as he shifted his attention from Caldris, pinning me with a look that felt so similar to that day in the woods.

So many questions danced in my head, so many thoughts about that night or the one that followed when he and Caldris had fought on the cliff.

His fur-lined cloak was open at the front, straps of leather criss-crossing over his breast to connect the two sides. His skin beneath it was bare in spite of the cold weather, a swirling tattoo of pale blue ink dipping over his chest and coming to a low point at the start of the definition of his abdomen.

Caelum growled behind me, the low rumble of sound making me jolt in place as I spun to meet him with wide eyes. “Look at him a little longer, my star. I dare you.”

The urge to defend my curiosity rose within me, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. The leader of the Wild Hunt chuckled, his full lips tipping up on one side in a completely arrogant expression. “I won’t complain, Beasty,” he said, the reminder of the name filling my veins with ice. “Anything that gets this one all riled up is a bonus in my book.”

I glanced over his shoulder, my eyes skimming past the feathers woven into the strands of his black hair. The shadowy, slightly transparent riders of the Wild Hunt sat astride their horses, faces completely disinterested. I looked among them, carefully searching until my gaze landed on the one I wouldn’t ever be able to erase from my nightmares. His face was committed to my memory, angular with incredibly high cheekbones.

His lips were thin, his nose slightly arched through the bridge until it came to a point at the end. His dark hair was long, hanging loosely around his shoulders except for the pieces he’d pulled back from his face and pinned to the back of his head with two bones. His gray stare met mine, a glare I didn’t deserve in his eyes as his nostrils flared. The look of annoyance was fleeting, his attention turning away from me as quickly as it had settled, deeming me unimportant, dismissing me as if I wasn’t worth his time.

He’d killed my brother, taken the last of my family from me for no reason other than his own vicious crusade against the humans.

I darted forward, stepping through the gap between the wolves who were determined to sniff every part of my body. Wrapping shaking fingers around the dagger on the leader of the Wild Hunt’s belt as I passed, I pulled the blade free from the sheath and raced toward the male who deserved death more than any of the others.

They’d all meet their fate if I had my way, but I owed one a debt that could only be repaid in blood.

“Estrella, no!” Caldris yelled, something in his voice sinking inside of me. It reminded me of the times when I’d fled the danger threatening us, when I’d sworn to stand by his side only to do the opposite in the end. I brushed it off, shaking my head as I reached the skeletal horse of the rider I would kill. His steed reared back as I grabbed him by the cloak hanging at his side, putting all my weight into the pull as I tore him down to the ground. He stumbled off the side, falling to the ground in a disgruntled heap before he vaulted to his feet.

“You’re going to be a pain in my ass. I can feel it,” he said, brushing the dust off of his clothes. “Of all the blades, you just had to stealDainsleif?Ignorant girl.”

I swung for his middle, dismayed when he jerked back suddenly in surprise. I didn’t know why it would shock him that I’d try to disembowel him. The last time we’d met I’d stabbed him with his own dagger. “I don’t know what that means, and I don’t fucking care,” I said, spinning the dagger in my grip.

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t play with toys you don’t understand,” the leader of the Wild Hunt said behind me. “Dainsleifwas forged by the dwarves and cursed to demand the payment of a life anytime it is wielded in battle. When drawn, it requires a life debt from you.”

I shrugged. “That’s perfectly fine with me. I’ve no intention of letting the male who murdered my brother walk away.”

The leader quirked a brow, turning his curious stare toward where Caldris watched from beside him. “This mate of yours suits you. She’s vicious.”

“Isn’t she?” Caldris agreed, running his hands over what would have been the muzzle of the horse’s bony face. I didn’t dare to think about the implications of the God of the Dead finding that appealing, or of the fact that I apparently suited him in such a way.

I turned my full attention back to the rider who needed to die, watching as he rolled his eyes. “You are no help,” he said, glaring at the leader. “How am I supposed to fight her when Caldris will skin me alive if I hurt her?”

“You’re not,” the leader said, lifting a hand to examine his nails as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “But I think I’ll enjoy watching her play with you anyway.”

“I don’t plan to play with him,” I argued, lunging for his middle. He narrowly avoided the thrust that would have caught him in the belly, twisting to avoid it with the kind of skill that took centuries to hone. “Just kill him.”

“You stabbed me three times, you fucking little menace! I’d say we’re even,” he protested, dodging back when I swung for him again. The blade warmed my hand, the magic within it throbbing through my arm. It wanted blood.

It wanted a debt to be paid.

“For fuck’s sake, Aramis. Just let the woman stab you already.Dainsleifwill demand a life, regardless of who pays it. It might as well be yours,” the leader of the Wild Hunt said, crossing his arms over his chest. He slowly leaned his weight back into his skeletal horse, crossing his feet at the ankles as the steed curled its neck to nudge his shoulder affectionately.

“But dying is so inconvenient,” the rider,Aramis, said. I didn’t stop to consider those words before I took the opening he’d given me, thrusting the blade into his chest. He faltered back for a moment, staring down at the dark blade the same way Brann had when the rider had killed him. He dropped slowly to his knees as I pulled it free, watching as black blood spilled free and coated the ground at his feet. It poured in a smooth flow, without any of the rhythmic pumping I’d expected. He glared at me one last time before he fell to his face in the dirt, that inky black stain spreading beneath his body.

The leader of the Wild Hunt stepped beside me, taking the blade from my hand and sheathing it. “Now we wait for him to rise again.”

“For him to rise? I just killed him,” I said, glancing toward Caldris. He might have the ability to raise the dead, but from what I’d seen they weren’t themselves anymore, only the bodies of who had once lived.

The leader made his way back to his horse, pulling a pack down from the back before he turned to me once more. “You cannot kill that which is already dead.”

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