Page 118 of Hunted By Fae
I pray, I pray to you Mother, that he found anyone but her, that he traced my scent to the hospital and found his presents there.
I pray for the blood of thousands to be spilled before hers.
Thick with tears, my throat squelches as I force down a whine.
It’s my heartbeat that gives me away. It thumps with the wild thrashings of captured prey; a rabbit caught in a snare as a hunter approaches.
I am trapped.
And he knows it, too.
It’s what keeps him playful, his tone light, his hunting instincts subdued. He’s already got me.
“I thought it only right I return the favour. Would you like the rest of your gift now?”
I sink into myself.
His words might trick someone a tad duller than me, his mask of gentleness might lure out a human sillier than me, if he chose to crank up the charm—as I know fine well he can do easily.
But this male…
Dare’s troubles with me are more than predator and prey, they stretch beyond his orders from a general and his homeland. This is more than invasion, annihilation, colonisation—even extermination.
This is personal.
This dark fae wants his revenge on me.
And he has abandoned his unit to hunt me down for it.
The thuds stop, bootfalls suddenly quiet.
My throat bobs, the gulp of balled nerves louder than my thrumming heartbeat. My lashes flutter, the breath trapped in my chest, and I stare at the dusty glass door of the beer fridge opposite me.
The reflection looking back at me is a silhouette of mousy hair and red cheeks and wild eyes—but I stare as though, somehow, it’ll help me listen for his next move.
Still, no sounds come.
That means one of two things.
Dare—this ruthless assassin of darkness—has stopped at the wooden door that stands between the porch and the brewery. He stands there, just one kick away from booting in the flimsy door and capturing me. Or—and this is the worst one, the one that pebbles my skin and shudders my spine—he has softened his movements so I don’t hear him, so I can’t track him out there.
He wanted me to hear him before.
Now, his skills, his talents for hunting, have turned him as silent as a blade of grass in a breeze.
And I can’t pinpoint the location of his voice as he teases me, “Why not come on out, see what I brought you?”
Ifeelthe smirk in his voice, that half-smile that lifts the corner of his mouth and parts his rosy lips just enough to bare some of his sharper teeth.
There is no chance of me going out there. Even if I’m trapped. He’ll have to drag me out of here kicking and screaming and stabbing and biting.
This is my end…
Such a shitty way to go after all this time.
I managed to evade all the dark fae units blasting through the lands for so long. But then I stumbled onto the wrong unit. His unit.
This dark male—this fucking beast—left his fellow warriors for the thrill of the hunt, I’m as sure of it as I am my deadly fate in his hands.
