Page 134 of The Fox Heir

There’s fire in her opalescent eyes when she speaks. “He must die first.”

I snort. “You’d trust me to keep that promise?”

She lifts her chin. “I would.”

“Why?”

“Why trust you? Or why do I ask you to wait?”

“The latter.”

She steps slowly toward me through the shifting pyre smoke. “Because I want to watch as the shadows leech from his traitorous, murderous body for what he did to my daughter.” She stares at me, as if challenging me to push back.

“Fine,” I say. “It’s as good a reason as any.”

As much as I detest this woman—this corpse—I can’t help but admire her. I’m in awe of this queen’s immense power. How her fury consumes everything in its path. How her need for revenge will stop at nothing.

I see myself in her. It is both terrible and empowering at the same time.

“But first,” she says, holding up one skeletal finger. “You must find his heart and stop it from beating. Only that will make him vulnerable to true death. No part of his body can live.”

“So, your heart still beats somewhere then.”

She nods slowly.

“I assume you have it hidden.”

“In a place you will never find it.”

It’s a challenge; I can see it in her undead eyes. And we both know I’ve never been afraid of a challenge. We stare at each other for a long moment before I nod.

“Fine. If this is the only way to end my father, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“You won’t be able to do it alone.” She turns her undead gaze to Hunter, where he lingers behind me. “And what of you, Heir to the North? Where do your allegiances lie?”

Hunter’s mouth forms into a determined line. “I think I’ve seen enough of the Fox King’s cruelty to last me a lifetime. I’m not interested in giving him the opportunity to do it for a thousand more.” He turns to me. In one swift movement, he unsheathes his Fox sword and kneels. He places the tip of his sword in the dirt before him and bows his head to me. “I once vowed to protect the Fox Heir. I will keep that oath.”

The Dead Queen raises an eyebrow. “Even now that you’ve learned you’re the Heir to the North?” The Dead Queen asks, her voice pitched with curiosity. “In many ways, you are enemies.”

Hunter’s brown eyes dart up toward mine. “If I am truly the Heir to the North, as you say, then we aren’t enemies at all.” Hunter stands, sheathing his sword. “The human realms were not at war with each other. Only with the fae. And then,” his eyes drift to the queen. “With the Dead Queens.”

She nods, affirming.

Hunter looks back at me. “I will serve the Fox Heir. The true Fox Heir. Until she no longer needs me.”

“And then?” I ask, my voice tense.

Hunter takes a deep breath and looks toward the crumbling Gwyllion Castle. “And then we’ll figure out the rest. When the time comes.”

My heart swells. I’m so glad to have him on my side again, I could cry. I reach forward and place my filthy hands on his cheeks. “Thank you,” I whisper, my throat tight with emotion.

He gives me a shadow of a grin. “I’m sorry.”

I sniff. “Me too.”

“As touching as this is,” the Dead Queen says. “You’ll need more than a Fox and a knight. I cannot leave Gwyllion. I must maintain the border and protect what’s left of our kingdom.”

“But you will need to help us,” Hunter says. “You’re the only one with enough power to stop him.”