Page 97 of Hunt Me

“Be mindful of your tongue, wolf,” Ezra snapped.

“I’m certain you wouldn’t mind minding it yourself,” he taunted with a wink. Ezra scoffed and looked away.

“Moonshire is in desperate need of a leadership change,” Luka announced.

“Some would say the same of Night Falls,” he mumbled as he returned his attention to the goat. “I’d bet everything I had most would say leadership change was needed in Night Falls.”

“You can’t bet with an empty hand.”

“It may be empty for now, but it won’t be for long.”

Luka sucked his teeth and wondered if David’s snark was worth it. The man was nearly a skeleton, but his confidence was Goliath-strong.

“How does King David sound to you?”

35

The Blood Calling

Matilda eyed the snoring orc beside the bed. Belzara was slumped over with a steady stream of thick saliva leaking from the corner of her mouth. She glanced away at the tray of food that was brought to her personally by Armando. Mistakenly, she’d grimaced at the meal and offended him. He stormed out of the bedchamber, grumbling under his breath about how selfish and unappreciative humans were.

Her stomach growled viciously, yet she made no move to entertain the food. It smelled of a rotting corpse. She eyed the chalice on the nightstand that she had licked clean. Her tongue darted out before sliding languidly across her bottom lip.

She wanted more, to the point of frantic need. Briefly, she considered asking Belzara to fetch a servant. She’d have a taste—just a sample to stave off the hunger, but she couldn’t draw herself to do it.

A soft nudge from her stomach stole her attention.

Matilda gently rubbed her growing belly and whispered to the child. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

Another nudge.

“I have no other choice… do I?”

Another nudge.

“Then let us hunt.”

***

Matilda trekked through the snow with her quiver and bow, aware she didn’t have long before her absence would be noticed. She left a note for the king and prayed to whatever gods were listening that Belzara wouldn’t suffer his wrath. In hindsight, she should’ve brought her lady-in-waiting along, but she didn’t want her close friend to bear witness to what she was about to do.

The sharp crack of a branch stopped Matilda cold.

She heard it once more, and her head swiveled in the direction. She squinted at the reindeer in the distance. It was the largest she’d ever seen—meaning the blood would be plentiful.

Silently, she raised the bow and fixed it on the animal that was foraging for food—scraping away at the snow, searching for lichen. She held her breath and released the arrow, striking the animal through the heart. It bleated loudly and stumbled about, clinging to its last breath. The herd that accompanied it scattered in the distance, leaving their brethren to suffer alone in fresh snow tinged with blood the color of the ruby around her neck.

Matilda stalked her dying prey. Her heart raced once it fell to its side, leaving the arrow jutting towards the sky. She stared into its eye as it grunted softly and weakly kicked its hind legs.

“It is of no use,” she whispered, grabbing the shaft of the arrow. She ripped it out, slinging the precious blood from the wound. The light died out in the reindeer’s eyes as the light in Matilda’s eyes grew to an uncontrollable fire.

She mewled as her tongue caressed the arrowhead. It wasn’t as sweet and comforting as the human blood she consumed, but it was a close second and would get the job done.

She chuckled when her child started actively flailing in her belly.

“Be patient, little one,” she cooed. Yet the stubborn child persisted. “You are your father’s child,” she sighed, reaching for the blade in her boot.

With one swift motion, she stabbed the reindeer in the neck, puncturing his jugular. She pulled the knife away, and her mouth latched onto the animal’s neck. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she consumed with dual purpose: pleasure and nourishment.