Page 38 of Wicked Prince of Carnage
Her eyes fixed on a tall man, his body toned, his head bald, and tattoos covered half his face and chest. Not the weakest of the bunch—the gods had given her a small amount of grace. The man pursed his lips, seeming disgruntled that he was to work with the enemy.
Winter elegantly held out his hand and called, “Bow.”
A moment later one of the guards brought a wooden bow that was much smaller than Sterling’s and looked as if she could crack it in half. But it was a bow nonetheless.
The guard placed it in Winter’s grasp, and the prince passed the bow to Sterling. She blinked, cradling the object as if she’d been given the greatest gift in the world.
“You start with a weapon this time,” Winter drawled.
“No arrows?” She could make them with things in the forest, but a wolf would sniff her out before she finished completing one. Even with a shifter on her side, they couldn’t win if eighteen criminals attacked them at once.
Winter trailed a finger across his lower lip, his teeth still bared in a savage grin. “In the center of the forest there will be a quiver with one arrow awaiting you. You better move fastthough.” He prowled closer to her, his pleasant scent enveloping her. “Sterling, you have a fifteen-second head start, and your teammate five. Begin.”
She stilled, wasting one whole second before she took off like lightning into the forest. Winter had called her Sterling. Not human. Not Red Riding Hood. It wasnothing. Another twist to trip her up.
Avoiding as many twigs and leaves as she could muster, she darted toward the center of the forest, her gaze sweeping across the brush for any sign of a quiver.
A few moments later, feet thumped across the earth behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to find a brown and white wolf near her heels. Her teammate didn’t attack her, only followed closely.
“Help me find the quiver!” Sterling panted as she picked up speed, her breath fogging the crisp autumn air.
The wolf curved around a large trunk and she tailed him past flowered bushes and moss-covered trees. Fireflies danced around leaves, illuminating the area for her even more.
In the distance, howls and roaring reverberated as the fights erupted. Sterling hoped it was wolves tearing one another to shreds, that they kept themselves busy before hunting her as easy prey.
Her teammate gained speed before halting near a narrow tree where a dark green quiver dangled from a branch. Only there wasn’t one arrow inside it buttwo.
Sterling snatched the quiver from the tree, and as she nocked an arrow against the bowstring, a bush rustled. She released the first arrow, impaling a white wolf through the eye just before the enemy could rip into her teammate.
The wolf slumped to the ground and her teammate shifted into his bare male form. “Your scent is going to make us lose,” he snarled. “It doesn’t matter if the wolves have to kill one another—they will come for you first. Smear the wolf’s blood on you and go. I’ll fend off the others, and for any that slip past me, use the arrows.”
“Thank you,” she said, startling herself. Maybe he hadn’t murdered her in order to help him win, but it didn’t matter.
Claws slipped out from her teammate’s hand, and he slashed them across the wolf’s chest and stomach, now that of a woman. Blood spilled from the wounds, pooling around the dead body with a deep, metallic scent.
Sterling knelt and gathered handfuls of warm blood to smear her face and body with its stickiness.
“That’s good. Now go,” her teammate rushed the words out. “They aren’t far.”
Yanking her arrow from the woman’s eye with a sickening squish, she abandoned the wolf and skirted through the trees while surveying the area. Soft thumps came from her right and she whirled to the side, letting an arrow fly straight into a wolf’s throat, another in its chest.
The body convulsed on the ground as its fur reeled into its flesh. Sterling wrenched the arrows from the shifter and went further into the forest. She scanned the trees, searching for a decent branch to balance on while watching for wolves when a thick one enticed her.
As she bolted toward it, the ground below her feet gave way, and she fell into a deep hole, the air knocked from her lungs when she struck the hard dirt.
Sterling peered up, her breath ragged—she realized what Winter had meant about being trapped.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WINTER
Winter lounged atop the enclosure wall with his elbow draped over a bent knee, his other leg hanging off the edge. Pained and starved growls filled the night air of the forest, but the spectators’ mood rang somber. Though they were still drunk and laughing, the air itself felt more intently focused.
A fraction of the players in the night’s game were kin or friends to the wolves watching—some of their victims were also in attendance. Their crimes were enough to earn death, making them ideal for this spectacle. They either met their demise as planned or, if luck was on their side and they won, escaped their fate.
Of course, Prince Winter didn’t always play fair. If he didn’t like what the winners’ crimes had been, he would kill them. He couldn’t let traitors to the crown run loose.
The longer he watched, the more his chest tightened with apprehension. The scent of human blood hadn’t reached his nose yet, but it was only a matter of time before Sterling was caught. He’d paired her with one of the strongest wolves in hopes of giving her a fighting chance. Between the traps and the number of wolves in the enclosure, he still held little hope of her surviving. Winter released a harsh breath.No, he reminded himself. He needed to hope for herdemise.
