Page 52 of The Hunted

Eryx didn’t miss how the hunter was careful about not asking if it was true the mermaid saved his life. There were more than enough whispers on the ship for him to deduce his own conclusions on that.

“The other one was,” Eryx echoed.

“Both redheads—I’ll need a better look at the one we have, but …”

“What?”

“Could be family—kin.”

Eryx glanced his way, looking the man over. He seemed in far better condition. Dressed, a cloak over his shoulders, and not any worse for wear. Not as though he’d almost died in the water.

“I’m surprised the other men on the ships didn’t look for the captain of ours. He runs the fleet, no?”

Corval chuckled, dry as it was. “Always save a hunter over the captain.”

“Mmm. Down with the ship, and all.”

The man shook his head, smirking. “No one wants to die, and so a captain going down with his ship only works until the water begins to fill his lungs. You save a hunter over a captain because one will only bitch about what was lost. The other only wants to get back out on the water.”

Eryx stared out over the sea and didn’t even bother to thank the man who brought over a second fur blanket for him to use. More than anything, he wanted to be back in those waters, but he didn’t think it was for the same reasons Corval did.

After all, the man wanted to be on a boat.

Eryx craved the water in his lungs.

Still, he murmured, “Well, Corval, you’re not wrong.”

“I rarely ever am.”

Right.

“So, the hunt …” the man said, trailing off with a glance in Eryx’s direction.

“Is still on.”

ELEVEN

Arelle

WHERE COULD Arelle go but home?

Though she knew what would be waiting for her there, she also didn’t have a choice. She certainly couldn’t run, although the fear of punishment terrified her to death. That was also part of the problem; death might very well be her punishment for this. Not just for her sister and what happened to Poe with the landwalkers. If her father ever found out that she had mated herself to a man of Atlas, well, that would certainly be a reason for him to end her life.

That didn’t change the fact she still had nowhere else to go. Arelle certainly couldn’t run, not when it would mean running for the rest of her life because her father would send guards to find her. The only way she would ever feel safe—an impossibility in itself—would be to constantly keep moving and running.

Not that it would make a difference. They would find her. She couldn’t take to land. Not here, anyway.

She had nothing. No one. No protection, no safe haven, and no one to ask for help. A true testament to how sheltered and controlled her entire life had been under the thumb of her father when the sad fact was, she had only a handful of friends … two of which had been her sisters, and none of the others were capable of helping her.

So, all that left her with, was going home. Even if that place didn’t feel like home.

Arelle fought with herself the entire way; a few strokes forward and a couple more back. A never-ending struggle until she finally reached the colony. Like the season before, she expected people to be waiting. She thought for sure she would hear the whispers, see their averted gazes, and know that the entire colony already knew exactly what had happened.

This time was different. No one waited. The grottos seemed empty and the streets were quiet. Arelle had never felt more alone.

Part of her struggle to keep moving forward had more to do with what was happening inside her very soul. The pull—like an invisible rope had been wrapped around her middle and was yanking her back toward the land of the forbidden. Back to where a man was waiting. One who she’d tied herself to, even though she’d known better.

She didn’t need to be told—didn’t need to ask—to know that the struggle would be lifelong. Bonds between mates lessened over the years in circumstances where they were forced apart, but it never went away. Not forever.