“Good. Now release.”
She releases, and the arrow hisses through the air, hitting the very heart of the target.
I stare, impressed.
Not bad for a beginner.
When I face her again, she’s grinning from ear to ear, and I go completely still at the magnificent sight.
We’re standing awfully close.
My heart beats on my tongue, and I get lost inside the endless sea of her eyes, forgetting myself for a moment. What were we doing again?
Ivy looks at me the same way, and when her rounded pupils fall on my lips, I don’t run. This time, I stay.
Her breath ghosts my lips once again, and when she leans closer, closing her eyes, my own shut.
A branch cracks behind us, and we both stop, whirling around.
The blood rushes back to my head, and now the spell between us breaks, our almost kiss forgotten on the wind.
A beautiful red doe watches us from the trees. She stands beside a spruce just fifteen yards away, and it’s a perfect shot. I don my hunting hat, trying to ignore the creature’s curious gaze. She’s young, so she hasn’t learned to fear us yet.
A shame.
“Ivy, draw…” I whisper.
She stares at the doe helplessly, blue-green eyes wide with wonder.
I grind my teeth, whispering a little louder, “Ivy. Draw.Now.”
Her arms shake as she can’t stop staring at the beautiful deer.
The animal steps out from the trees, and I have never seen a more innocent creature. The sweet doe has absolutely no idea of the real danger she’s in, and it almost seems unfair.
But Ivy needs to learn.
“Ivy…” I growl.
Her lip trembles, tears gleaming inside her big, starburst eyes. Then finally, she lowers her arrow, shaking her head.
“No. It’s wrong. It’s just so…”
Her voice trails away, but I don’t need to hear the rest of her sentence. Because I see it, too. It’s wrong because the deer is still so young and curious, and to kill her would be cowardly at this stage. It should be a fair fight at least.
But meat is meat, and I can’t afford to get sentimental.
After all, I’m hunting fortwonow. Ivy will not starve on my watch.
Tearing the weapon from her grip, I point the arrow at the deer’s sweet brown eyes, aiming for a clean shot.
My throat constricts, and I struggle to breathe. Why won’t she run?
Instead of fleeing, the doe steps closer, sniffing the tip of the arrow with her shiny nose. Her ears prick, and then she cocks her head.
I…can’t kill her…
The doe trusts me because I’m Fae. A so-called friend of the forest.
