Page 5 of Hunting Her
I almost don’t make it.
She’s only a moment away from getting what she wants when I catch her, reversing to zip back up into the clear blue sky.
I hold her princess style in my arms, listening to her gasping breaths. There are tears in her wide, deceptively innocent eyes, and she looks so pretty when she cries.
“You’re lucky I caught you.” My wings flap in large motions, bringing us back up to the broken window.
“No, I’m not,” she bites out.
“You’d rather be dead than belong to me?”
“Yes.”
This is a woman who knows what she wants. Every word from her mouth convinces me more—I need her as my queen.
The problem is, she needs to make the choice to be mine. I don’t keep slaves like Baron Donovan does. In my opinion, it’s a barbaric practice and breeds dissent more than loyalty. A woman forced to be queen will only stab me in the back at the first opportunity.
But someone so confident in their morals will honour their agreements, so all I need to do is make her a deal.
One so tempting she can’t refuse, but so impossible that she can’t win.
This is the perfect day for it. The Night of Nuvelia’s Reign is about to begin, so I won’t have to wait to make her mine. I can make her a bet. If we successfully complete the claiming ritual that I’ve waited hundreds of years to set into motion, she’s ours. If not, she’s free.
We’ll be pushing the boundaries of propriety—usually the queen submits to the ritual without any strings attached.
I doubt the gods will mind if I add a string or two. They’ve always loved a good bargain.
I land on the edge of the window. My dukes are waiting in the hall, but no one else has moved an inch.
“We’ll take her to my quarters,” I state. “We’re not to be bothered while we clean her up and tend to her wounds.”
She begins to squirm, but I dig my fingers into her thigh. Tilting my head down, I speak words only for her. “I have a bet for you, love. You’ll want to hear me out.”
Her eyes narrow into a glare, but she settles. My boots crunch on the glass as I hop down from the sill and carry her in the direction of the lavish quarters I’ve been given for my stay.
CHAPTER THREE
NOVA
Abet with the demon king.
It’s likely to be a losing battle—just a way to make me subservient without a prolonged fight. I can see right through his intentions.
But it’s my chance for freedom. If I can convince him to leave a loophole open, I can manipulate it to work for me. I don’t struggle as he carries me through the halls, the other three men trailing behind us.
We head up to the second level, past servants and guards who bow their heads at the procession. I’ve only been up here a few times, to wash the feet of visiting officials like the guard said. The rooms up here are maintained by the hired maids.
It’s much like the lower level, with dark flooring and dark walls and ornate windows, but only on one side of the castle. Now that I’ve been outside, I know that this castle is built into the rock of a mountain cliff, a feat of architecture beyond human capabilities.
The king doesn’t set me down until we’ve turned into a set of private rooms. Then, he places me carefully on the couch and breaks the iron shackles off each ankle with an ease I envy.
“Don’t get blood on the fabric,” he warns.
I’m tempted to disobey. It would be so easy to rub the bloody gash on my arm onto the green velvet fabric or bring my feet up beneath me.
The way he looks at me with dark, piercing eyes says he might retract his offer of a deal if I push my luck.
I huff, looking away. “Have someone bring water so I can clean up, then.”
