Page 59 of Not Another Happily Ever After

Frog stills, snapping his head toward the forest. The air quiets in the absence of beating wings. I search for the hundreds of butterflies that only moments ago surrounded us when somewhere behind me a branch snaps.

“Frog?”

He doesn’t answer.

A branch cracks somewhere in the distance. Then another.

I turn to the sound of heavy footsteps pounding through the underbrush, each step growing louder and louder. A heartbeat later two men burst through the thicket.

Hunters.

Their wool jackets hang in tatters, their faces streaked with blood and grime. One looks to have abandoned his bow entirely, while the other holds tight to the splintered remains of his.

“Run!” the first man shouts, whether to us or to his companion I can’t tell.

They stumble into the meadow, their panic lending their tired legs speed.

Behind them, a bone-rattling scream erupts.

Frog’s hand flies to the hilt of his blade as the trees explode outward, revealing the creature within. It’s an enormous horse-like creature, its coat black as wet ink. Its obsidian horn glows red beneath a coat of blood.

The twisted unicorn’s golden eyes lock on the hunters and they scatter. They’re racing in the opposite direction when one trips.

“No!” I scream just as the twisted unicorn lowers its head, striking with terrifying speed.

Its horn drives clean through the hunter’s shoulder, lifting him off his feet as he looses a blood curdling cry.

I watch in horror as he’s flung to the side, landing somewhere in the tall grass. I’m fearing the worst when—miraculously—he scrambles to his feet.

His arm hangs uselessly at his side as blood pours down to his fingers. But terror proves stronger than pain.

“Move it!” his companion bellows a short distance away, and together they stagger toward the far side of the field.

Foam froths in the unicorn’s mouth as it watches them disappear into the tree line. For one fragile second I think it might follow.

Then its long, tufted ear flickers. And its head turns.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Until its golden eyes find us.

“Oh no…”

The unicorn lets out another shrill scream. And then its sharp gaze finds us, and it’s racing toward where we stand out in the open.

“Frog—”

He’s already moving, slipping his arm around my waist. Everything blurs as he all but sprints across the field toward the tree line, practically carrying me. Behind us the evil unicorn thunders closer, its four finger like claws ripping through the tall grass.

Closer.

Close—oof!I exhale as Frog shoves my back into the gnarled trunk of a rot-riddled tree. My mouth twists in protest when he brings his chest to mine, pinning me beneath his weight, one hand pressed just above my head, the other holding a finger to his masked lips. Suddenly I can’t think of a better place to hide, or even remember what it is we’re hiding from.

All I can think about is the way his heart feels beating flush against mine. The way each and every breath is carefully measured beneath his cloak.God, has he always felt this warm?I peek up through my dark curls and everything else disappears. The realm. The forest.

All I see is him.