Page 55 of The Hunted

Oh, Arelle didn’t wonder what her father was doing.

She already knew.

“I gathered them,” he repeated when his gaze finally came back to settle on her, “because up until the moment you were spotted returning, we had to assume you were both gone. I need to address that, but here you are. Again. Seems you’re my lucky one, are you not? Twice now, you’ve escaped the landwalkers. Twice you’ve managed to return alive but left behind someone dead.”

“Poe is not—”

His gaze darkened and he lifted a hand to silence her.

“We assume she is because as a slave, she will be. And that is the only thing they will do with her once they bleed her nearly dry for their trades.”

If only his gaze made her unsettled. She found, staring back at her father, that she wasn’t really that afraid of him or what he might do. He had already done it all, and right now, death might even be a gift.

She wouldn’t beg for it.

Certainly, wouldn’t tell him to do it.

But there was no denying that death would be an easy way out. For him, and for herself.

Maybe even for Eryx.

What had she done?

“You disobeyed me.”

Arelle swallowed hard, tilting her chin up, defiant. She had to be because she would not lie, not about what made all this happen. She was also not wrong in her truth.

“She is my sister,” Arelle whispered, “and even if she wronged me before, I would not leave her behind.”

“And yet … you had to do just that.”

That blow struck lower than her father could ever possibly know. Or maybe he did know it and that was exactly why he said it. It hurt, the ache ricocheting throughout her entire body and lingering long after his voice stopped echoing in the silent room. As if she didn’t feel enough pain between injuries on her body and the growing agony within her soul.

Neither of which she would lament to her father. It wasn’t as though Zale would care. A king only cared for himself. Or this king certainly did.

“If you’re going to punish me—”

“Oh,” a new voice said, “well, he certainly can’t do that, now can he?”

Arelle turned fast on the spot, surprised at the unknown person who dared to speak when the king was addressing someone. It didn’t matter that she was a princess, no one ever thought to speak over her father.

The man who parted the crowd near the entrance to the throne room with a staff firmly in his grip looked her way with a rueful smile. A large green gem rested atop the golden rod.

She might have smiled back on another day.

She might have even liked that smile, if not for the night before.

If not for the bond.

A few people trailed behind the man, staying close enough for others to note they were with him but still back far enough that they also understood they were not like him. His olive-toned complexion complimented the bright green of his scales down his tail, and the shimmering black of his fin. The same scales that spattered across his chest and temples.

Those that followed him said nothing but did not lower their heads the same way her father’s people did. Instead, they kept their gazes locked on the back of his head as he neared Arelle.

Muscular, handsome, and clearly confident if not a little arrogant given his introduction, he was everything that everyone had ever told her about him. She knew without needing to be told exactly who he was, although this was the first time she’d ever laid eyes on his face.

Mav of Emerald. Prince of the Emerald Lands. Heir to a realm that promised life in the sea and on the land. Her intended mate.

“He can’t punish you,” Mav said, his gaze slicing to where the king stood but had not yet moved again, “because if I understand correctly … well, with your sister now gone, who does that leave as the heir to the Blu Sea?”