Page 20 of Hunt Me

“We’re under attack!” a guard shouted. “Protect King Alesi!”

Luka chuckled, finding his men’s panic comical.

“Get down!” Ezra hissed, trying to wrestle Luka to the carriage floor as arrows continued to pierce the carriage. He swatted his vexing advisor away.

“You should be more concerned about yourself than me. A measly arrow will not end me.

Ezra ripped one of the arrows out of the carriage wall and smelled the tip. As he suspected… poison. He grabbed Luka’s hand and slashed his palm.

Luka scowled from the pain, fingers curling up as the poison did what it intended.

“As you were saying?”

“There was no need to go to such great lengths to make your point! I bet those dirty mutts set us up!” Luka growled, shaking his hand. The injury was a tiny knick and was far from fatal, but the pain was immense.

“Imagine if that arrow pierced your heart!” Ezra argued back, ignoring Luka’s knee-jerk accusation. It could’ve been anyone. The werewolves weren’t the only ones to vocally announce their disdain for Luka. While it was unlikely for them to be so bold, Ezra reasoned the ambush could be the handiwork of hunters.

The carriage suddenly veered off the road and flipped onto its side, throwing the men into a heap.

“This is becoming rather annoying,” Luka muttered. He heard his guards’ anguished wails and picked up the scent of blood. “I’ll put an end to this,” he declared.

Luka threw open the carriage door and was met by the tip of a bloody sword. His eyes flicked up, and for a brief second, he thought he was gazing up at a curly-headed angel.

“Any last words, King Alesi?” she challenged.

He licked his fangs. His mouth had dried more than the scorching deserts of the South, and he needed to quench the newfound thirst that ailed him. Ezra suggested he let his primal side out and tap into the source, and that was precisely what Luka planned to do.

“Yes… run.”

7

Vampire King vs Huntress

Matilda’s breath grew ragged as she ran through the forest as if her life depended on it.

It did.

She huffed and puffed, pumping her arms and legs as she attempted to escape her dreaded fate. Iced branches reached out, whipping her face, leaving behind angry red scratches against her cheeks. They tore at her cloak and snagged her curls, threatening to snatch her bald. Gnarled tree roots protruded through the snow, forcing her to hurdle over them to avoid tripping.

Matilda’s anxiety ramped up as the sun began to wane. She couldn’t navigate well in the dark thanks to not being blessed with night vision; however, she couldn’t say the same for the monster that hunted her. She had to either fight or hide. Fighting was the least ideal scenario since the vampire king disarmed her of her sword before she took off running toward the forest. She still had her bow and plenty of arrows, but with his agility, he’d easily dodge them. Hiding was her best option if she wanted to live—her only option.

“Five thousand gold pieces sounded fortuitous at the time, but it is not enough!” Matilda declared as she searched for refuge. Her plan of attack wasn’t as thorough as she had hoped. In fact, there were more holes in her plan than she could count, but with the limited turnaround time, Matilda had to work with what she had—attack King Alesi’s convoy en route to Moonshire.

Out of breath and stamina, she crawled into the large hollow of a massive tree. She closed her eyes and focused on steadying her breathing, praying her pulse would calm by the time he caught up.

“Huntress… there’s no sense in hiding from me,” Luka voiced, leather boots crunching on the snow. He shook his head with a guttural laugh as he tracked the dainty footprints left in the snow. “I can hear your heart racing like the fluttering of hummingbird wings.”

Luka closed his eyes and listened to the roar of her blood as it forced its way through her constricted veins like a rushing river of rubies. His tongue caressed his bottom lip, moistening the pink crescent. His fangs ached to sink into flesh—no guilt to be had because he planned to eviscerate her and leave her nearly drained body to endure the elements and the creatures of the night. He imagined she’d take her last haggard breaths staring at the night sky as snowflakes fell, nestling in the upward curve of long black lashes.

He reached the tree where she hid from her inevitable fate. He pressed his palm against the trunk, pale hand contrasting against the blackness of the bark. He could feel her body heat permeate the thick wood and heard her breath catch in her throat. They both stilled in their unholy standoff—Vampire King and Huntress, who were as unlikely as oil and water, Heaven and Hell.

He pressed his nose to the tree and inhaled deeply. He groaned, and she whimpered as the notes of her blood played a melody for him—a tune that reminded him of his Anastasia when she played the harpsichord for him. That was one of their favorite pastimes. Anastasia would drag him out of his study, and he’d protest, feigning he was inundated with various documents, treaties, and other tedious matters that only he could attend. She’d ask him what was more important, her or the kingdom. The answer was always her. They’d sequester themselves in her private quarters, where she was free to explore her artistic gifts. She had covered the walls with murals depicting her vision of Heaven, a place she would never see. Yet that had never deterred her. Anastasia’s Heaven was not filled with clouds or angels. It was filled with them.

She had painted moments from the life they shared: the two of them dangling their feet in the river behind the castle, strolling hand in hand beneath the midnight sky, and Luka sitting quietly beside her as her fingers danced across the harpsichord keys. His favorite, however, was the simplest of them all: the two of them lying together in bed at night. He’d smooth his hand down her body, enjoying their nearness and the sheer fabric of her nightgown, the one he couldn’t seem to part with.

He balled his fist at the memories. His queen was taken away from him because of hunters, and coincidentally, a hunter was at his mercy…

“Come out,” Luka ordered.