Page 60 of The Huntmaster

Mara looked me in the eye. "To fix what is broken in the face of death is the greatest war of all."

I didn't have an answer for that. Sora forced me down onto a stool and began to work on my hair, braiding it in a complex, three-strand pattern that started at the temples and met at the back in a cascading waterfall of gold.

"Does this specific braid mean something?" I asked, noticing the way Sora was smirking at Mara in the reflection of a polished bronze bowl.

"It is the style of the unmated," Sora said, her eyes twinkling. "It tells the tribe that your heart is your own... for now."

Mara began tucking small, iridescent feathers and polished seeds into the braids, her fingers steady and sure.

"So," I said, trying to regain my composure as they continued the finishing touches. "Are you finally going to tell me what happens today? All the details, Sora. I don't want to accidentally commit some sacred faux pas because I didn't know the rules."

"It is a day of balance," Sora explained, her voice taking on a storyteller's lilt. "First, there is the Great Feast, then the group games to test the strength and agility of the young—climbing, racing through the canopy, showing off for the females. Then, the Solstice Fire Dance to thank the Mother, Alu’un, for the harvest of life."

"And the Mating Hunt," Mara added, her voice dropping an octave.

"The Mating Hunt?" I echoed, my stomach doing a nervous flip. "That sounds... less like a game and more like a directive."

"The males track the scent of their chosen through the village and the lower branches. If she is caught, they spend the night together under the peak of the moons. It is how we ensure the next generation is born of strong desire," Sora explained. "Those who are unmatched or those who choose to mate freely will endeavour in group activities and communal celebrations of the flesh. But for those with a specific target..."

The Hunt. My mind immediately flashed to Kaelen. I imagined him—muscles corded, eyes glowing a predatory gold—tracking my scent through the dark. A sharp, involuntary spike of heat flared deep in my stomach, making my breath hitch. I could almost feel his hands on my skin, the way he would look when he finally cornered me. I tried to shake the image away, my face heating up to a brilliant crimson.

"Group activities?" I blurted out, trying to distract myself from my own treacherous thoughts. "Yeah, I'm definitely not one for sharing. I mean... sharing the spotlight. Obviously. I'm a solo act."

Sora giggled, leaning in close. "The Huntmaster will not be able to resist you in this, Lyra. His Pulse is already screaming for you. I can hear it from three branches away."

I swallowed hard. "Why are you pushing this? Isn't it supposed to be a disharmony? A human and the Oru-ka leader?"

Mara paused, her hand resting on my shoulder. Her expression turned sombre.

"Alu'un defies the very laws we try to define, Lyra," Mara said quietly. "The Alignment is older than our rules. We do not control who our spirits are drawn to. I had a mate once. He was different, too—a quiet builder where I was a loud warrior. He died from the star-fire many cycles ago during a Vakra raid. He didn't fit the 'harmony' the Elders spoke of, but he was my soul’s anchor."

She looked me dead in the eye, and for the first time, I saw a sister.

"Do not fight the pull just because it scares you. The moons do not care for your fear; they only care for the truth of your blood."

I swallowed hard, looking at the stranger in the mirror. I almost looked like one of them. I felt the pulse of the forest in my own chest. And as much as I was terrified of what Kaelen might do—or what I might do—when we finally locked eyes today, I knew Mara was right. The Alignment was here, and I was done being a ghost.

Stepping out of the hut felt like walking onto a stage under a spotlight I wasn’t prepared for. The midday suns were high, turning the canopy into a kaleidoscope of emerald and gold, but the heat wasn't just coming from the sky. It was the Oru-Ka’s collective gaze.

As Sora, Mara, and I moved along the main walkway toward the central commons, the usual bustle of the village ground to a halt. The feast had already begun. Long tables carved from fallen titan-trees were overflowing with roasted meats, exotic fruits, and jars of fermented nectar that smelled like summer rain.

Hundreds of red-skinned tribal members were gathered, their markings a riot of festive colours—shimmering golds, deep indigos, and celebratory pinks. Conversations faltered as I passed, silence spreading behind me like a shadow. I felt the slit in my skirt flutter against my leg, exposing the intricate vine-work and the pale curve of my thigh. I saw the awe in the eyes of the younger hunters, their markings flickering a curious yellow as they took in the silver-fox fur and the way the living vines pulsed against my skin. But I also saw the contempt. A few of the older matrons narrowed their eyes, their markings a bruised, stubborn purple, clearly unimpressed by the "star-woman" draped in their sacred finery.

I scanned the crowd, my heart doing a nervous staccato against my ribs. I was looking for him. I was looking for the one pair of golden eyes that could make all this scrutiny disappear. But Kaelen was nowhere to be seen. The Huntmaster's seat at the head of the Great Hall was empty.

The empty seat shouldn’t have mattered to me.

But it did.

"He is likely with the scouts, finalising the perimeter for the Mating Hunt," Sora whispered, sensing my searching gaze. "Do not worry, Lyra. He will see you soon enough."

"I'm not worried," I lied, my voice tight.

My eyes drifted toward the shadows of the Great Hall, and that’s when I saw him.

The iron-wood cage looked small against the towering architecture of the Nest. Sky sat curled in the corner, his bandaged leg stretched out in the straw. The two hunters guarding him were massive, their spears crossed in a silent 'do not approach' signal.

"Lyra, the opening toast is about to—" Sora began, but I was already moving.