Page 42 of Hunt Me

“I was faking.”

“Please prepare yourself for supper. There are gowns in the wardrobe.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Luka ignored more of her senseless lies and opened the magnificent wardrobe, revealing a row of satin, velvet, lace, and tulle.

“Come hither, huntress. We don’t have all night,” Luka said, waving her to his side. “What say you?” he asked once she planted firmly by his side.

“May I?”

“Of course. They’re yours.”

Matilda’s eyes scanned the lavish fabrics of gowns she never thought would grace her body. As a huntress, she’d never be able to afford such luxuries. Her eyes caught a sheer white nightgown tucked in the back. She slid the dresses aside and gasped. Luka stilled, gauging his future queen’s reaction. He was a mess, and his heart jackrabbited in his chest every time her fingers caressed the material. The guilt of his treachery was eating him alive, but his longing to see Matilda in the nightgown edged it out. “Do you approve?”

“It’s absolutely gorgeous, but I think Lord Gustafson would frown upon me wearing it to dinner,” she joked, carefully replacing it in the wardrobe. “He doesn’t like me very much, does he?”

“He doesn’t like most. I shall wait outside.”

Once he had gone, Matilda turned her attention back to the wardrobe, searching for something more suitable for dinner.

“This should work lovely,” she murmured as she observed the extraordinary gown. It was a simple black velvet dress with long sleeves. She adored the intricate gold stitching on the hem of the billowing dress and appreciated the matching cape that dragged behind her.

“Whose funeral are you attending?” Luka playfully teased when Matilda finally emerged from her room.

“Yours. I’ll finish what Beta David started,” she replied, accepting his outstretched arm. Her eyes wandered to Luka’s cheek, which sported jagged claw marks that trailed down his neck to his pectorals.

“Stop looking at it.”

“Be truthful. How close were you to losing to Beta David?”

“I wasn’t in danger of losing. I’ve been fighting longer than Beta David was a seed in his father’s balls,” he claimed, escorting her to his private dining hall.

Matilda snorted at his crassness. “How long until it heals?”

Scratches from werewolves could be toxic and often left their surviving victims with lifelong scarring; even vampires were not immune.

“A few more days, according to the physician.”

“King Alesi—”

“Luka,” he reminded her.

“I’ll never get used to calling you that. We need to discuss who hired me to eliminate you.”

“Another time,” he replied, waving her off.

“Another time? We must strike now. He has murdered children and has threatened to burn the tavern and kill my friends.”

Luka paused to address her concerns.

“Very well. Tell me about the man who hired you.”

He listened tentatively and nodded along as she divulged everything she could.

“Gregorio, you say?”

“That is what he claims.”