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Vine’s mouth quirked. “No, that’s not what ails him.” He paused. “The seven of you are massively respected within the Dark Host. In all of its history, few units have performed and functioned as well as yours. You never failed to capture who you were sent to track, you never left any trace of yourselves behind, you never took too long to complete a mission. You were a team in the truest sense of the word. An excellent team.
“The units that came after yours weren’t able to come close to matching that record, let alone surpass it. In all three cases, a very big issue was that the Master huntsman didn’t have what it took to lead the Hunt.” Vine cut his gaze to Teague. “Ronin has been constantly compared to you by others, and he’s not measuring up in their estimation.”
Tucker puffed out a breath. “Ronin can’t like that much.”
“He doesn’t,” Vine confirmed. “What he likes even less is that Zagan threatened that if his unit’s performance didn’t improve, we would ask you all to return and replace them.”
Teague blinked. He did, what?
Well, shit, said Tucker.
“Zagan thought it might light a fire under Ronin’s ass. It did. But it hasn’t made him any better at his position. He still struggles to handle the pressure, as does the rest of his unit.” Vine blew out a breath. “I think the problem is that you all made it look easy. The reality of the situation was therefore a shock to those who came after you.”
“So you intend to persuade the current unit to retire as well?” asked Leo, sitting on the log beside Teague.
“Yes.” Vine straightened. “A weakness in the Wild Hunt is a weakness in the Dark Host, and it reflects badly on the army as a whole. We can’t have that.”
Leo nodded. “Does Ronin or his unit know you’re here?”
The commander shook his head. “But they’ll learn of it if you return with me. And I’m hoping you will. There are, of course, other hellhorses eager to join the Hunt, but I don’t wish to take my chances on another bunch if there’s a possibility that you all might be willing to come back.”
Teague hadn’t ever anticipated that such an offer would be made to them, since it wasn’t common for ex-huntsmen to be asked to come out of retirement. But despite being flattered by it, he couldn’t say he was at all tempted to grab onto the offer. His years in the Wild Hunt . . . it felt like another lifetime. One he’d moved on from and had no wish to revisit.
Just the same, his beast had no interest in returning to that time in their life. Or to hell, for that matter. It was settled here in this realm now, as was Teague. Neither could imagine leaving their current life behind, or people such as Khloë and, yes, even Larkin.
Teague rubbed at his nape. “I can’t speak for the others here, only for myself. Though I appreciate that you’d make this offer, I have to respectfully decline. As you rightly pointed out, the Hunt demands a lot from a person. I had no life outside of it. Now I do. Now I know how it feels to be free and able to do as I please. I enjoy that far too much. I couldn’t go back to a time when I didn’t have it.”
“Same applies to me,” said Slade, and the others echoed his sentiment.
Vine exhaled heavily. “I was afraid that would be the case. There’s no way I can change your mind? No offer I could make that would appeal to you? I’ve been given the go-ahead by Zagan to promise you whatever you want.”
Teague gave him a wan smile. “My hunting days are over.”
His clan made similar comments.
Vine twisted his mouth, grim. “I can’t lie, I’m disappointed. Zagan won’t be pleased either. But I can understand why you would make such a decision.” He stood, and his companions did the same. “If you change your mind, you’ll be welcomed back into the Dark Host without hesitation.”
Teague gave him a curt nod. “I appreciate that.” Sort of. Not really.
Goodbyes, back-pats, and nods were exchanged. Vine then opened a portal through which he and the legionnaires left. It shut with a whoosh of sound.
Sinking into a deck chair, Gideon looked at Teague. “Now we know why Ronin sent shadowkin after you—if you’re dead, there’s no way you can replace him as Master Huntsman.”
Leo nodded, absently plucking at the golf glove he’d removed. “It makes sense now that he’d be prepared to risk losing the position by targeting you,” he told Teague. “He’s going to lose it anyway—it’s just a matter of when. He wants to make sure he doesn’t lose it to you.”
Yep, because that would only add insult to injury. “Once he’s officially demoted, he’ll lose the ability to direct the shadowkin. That’s when he’ll come for me personally.”
