Page 45 of To Hunt a Demon King

“Unless you’d prefer to run alongside me, then yes,” Hunt bit out, gesturing for me to place a foot in the stirrup. I stiffened, worrying my lower lip between my teeth.

Hunt seemed to sense my worry. “A horse is different than an apple,” he said, confirming that he knew my fears. “Intention matters. You’ve never hurt Akela or me. I think you have enough control over whatever this is to not kill the horse.”

I nodded, taking a breath as I placed my foot in the stirrup and swung myself up over the saddle. I didn’t even get to enjoy the fact that it was so much easier in trousers, pockets be damned.

Hunt swung up behind me, and the horse whinnied irritably, as if protesting our combined weight.

“Where is Akela?” I asked, looking around and failing to find the huge wolf.

“I sent him ahead to scout the road,” Hunt replied, as if speaking of a soldier rather than an animal. “He’ll meet us.”

With a kick from Hunt, and without a word of farewell to the farrier, we were off. Hunt set a brutal pace, pushing the horse fast as we sped away from Mithloria toward the mountain range on the horizon. Holding myself away from him was nearly impossible at this speed, and within minutes, my abdomen and arms were on fire.

“Sit back, Red,” Hunt grunted behind me. “I won’t bite.”

“So you say,” I said, gingerly relaxing while still trying to keep distance between us. Hunt let out an irritated noise and hooked me around the waist, pulling me to him with the band of one strong arm.

“I was trying to be courteous,” I grumbled, giving in and leaning back into him.

“You should have done that when you decided to lie about being the Crone’s granddaughter and heir,” Hunt growled.

“I didn’t lie,” I snapped. “You never asked.”

“Why on earth would I have asked you if the Crone was your grandmother?” Hunt snapped. His breath was warm in my ear, but all the heat from earlier was gone, replaced by icy fury.

“I didn’t think you would help me if you knew,” I snapped back. “And don’t you dare lie and say you would.”

“For that stone around your neck, I might have,” Hunt argued. “If you had told me, I could have been more fucking prepared. And I wouldn’t have put an innocent village at risk by taking you there.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, choking back the tears I had been fighting. “I really am. About Mithloria. Will the people be okay?”

“The king will protect them,” Hunt said gruffly, as if he sensed my emotion and had decided to back off from yelling at me. “I’ll send a message to the palace as soon as we reach another village.”

“Do you know the king?” I asked. Of course, I thought, if Hunt was some kind of lord, it would make sense that he knew the king. That’s probably who granted him his title.

“Yes,” Hunt said tersely. I waited, but he didn’t offer anything else, so I sank into uncomfortable silence, praying to the Goddess that the people of Mithloria be spared my grandmother’s wrath.

I didn’t think she would risk destroying the Bloodwood. It would be too great a danger for the Witchlands. But there was a chance she would brave sending the Coven after me, and that would end badly for everyone. As strong as he might be, there was no way Hunt could fight off a dozen trained witches, and while I had no desire to return to be publicly executed, I didn’t want anyone else to die because of me.

“You could send me back,” I said quietly, barely audible over the pounding of the horse’s hooves. Hunt stiffened behind me, so I continued. “She would leave these people alone, if you sent me back.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Red,” Hunt growled angrily, tightening the arm around my waist almost painfully. I didn’t want to irritate him further by objecting, so I let him hold me too tightly, allowing the discomfort to serve as some kind of penance for my lies.

We rode through the night, and I spent the silence contemplating how wrong I had been about the Demon Kingdom. For its fearsome reputation, the Darklands was very much like the Witchlands. Tiny houses and farms dotted the country between villages, and the roads well kept in some places while rough in others. I still hadn’t seen a demon, or at least not anything recognizable as a demon, and I was beginning to realize that we truly had been lied to. Mama and Hunt were right.

I had questions, but I didn’t dare voice them while Hunt was in a temper. I dozed off a bit here and there, but I quickly discovered it was very difficult to sleep on a horse. Even the warm, foresty smell of Hunt behind me wasn’t enough to lull me to sleep for long, and by the time we arrived at another village in the gray pre-dawn light, I was falling asleep on my feet.

Akela was waiting for us, and he whined in greeting as we arrived, padding over to us and nudging me with his wet nose.

“From now on we ride through the night,” Hunt said, swinging down from the horse behind me. “You will stay hidden during the day,” he added emphatically, gripping my waist to help me down. I was stiff and sore and exhausted and admittedly a bit hungover, and I stumbled as I dismounted.

“Steady, Red,” Hunt rumbled, holding me up. I looked up at him, exhaustion making it difficult to keep the turmoil I had been dwelling in for hours at bay. I felt a sob clog my throat, and I fought to swallow it back down.

“I’m sorry,” I croaked out. “I should have never come here.”

Hunt sighed, holding me at arms length and studying me thoughtfully. “Agree to disagree on that one, Red,” he said gently, folding me into his arms. The gesture was so warm and so unexpected that the dam of emotion broke out of me. I let myself breathe a single ragged sob into his chest, before taking a deep breath and forcing the feeling back down.

“You need sleep,” Hunt said, letting go of me to untack the horse and unpack our supplies. “Things are always worse when you're tired.” I let out a strained laugh that was half a sob, and he handed me one of the supply bags with a wry smile. “Let’s go.”

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