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Then he grinned, and his Huntsman shuddered.
Chapter 3:
Hunter stabbed his fork violently into one of the mini potatoes rolling around his plate and glared at the locked door. He was eating alone—again—and hating himself for being annoyed about that fact. He’d spent the better part of the morning trying to convince himself his feelings were simply because he’d lacked socialization for weeks now, but…
He’d never really gotten on with people in the first place. Didn’t have any friends and hadn’t since the moment he’d lured Odin into the forest and shot him in the arm.
Hell, he hadn’t really had a life since then, either. And now…
He was here. Locked up.
And fucking alone.
He growled in frustration and dropped his fork with a clatter, clenching his fists. The worst part was not knowing who he was angrier with, Odin or himself. After all, he was the reason he was stuck here like this. He’d been the one who’d blabbed and revealed that he was a Whisper in a moment of vulnerability and weakness.
From the sounds of it, he was going to pay for that slip for the rest of eternity, too.
An image of Odin when they’d been younger, laughing by the pool, the sun beaming down on his skin as he sprawled out on one of his family’s lawn chairs entered Hunter’s mind.
He’d been gorgeous back then, an untouchable god, just out of reach, even when he was standing right next to Hunter. Even when they studied for classes and their knees bumped beneath the table…They’d been impossible, and Hunter, a mere foot soldier forced into the Brumal to keep his family from turning destitute, had been painstakingly aware of this fact.
It hadn’t stopped him from yearning, for fantasizing about what kissing Odin Snow might feel like. What being spun around and taken by him roughly against the pool house wall might feel like.
He’d spent hours, days, weeks, and months dreaming about being touched by Odin.
And then he’d tossed those dreams aside the second Isa Frost had threatened the life of his sister. Because, in the end, reality was always going to win out against a fantasy. Reality was tangible, after all. The love he felt for and got from his sister was real. His love for Odin? One-sided, and impossible.
So he’d made a choice, and ultimately that choice cost him everything, including Meg.
He pushed the plate away and then rested his cheek down on the cool glass surface of the table, staring sightlessly in the direction of the fireplace. The flames were dancing, always burning, always heating the room and chasing away the cold.
Hunter hated the cold, always had, but more so now that he’d experienced what it was like to be at the receiving end of Isa Frost’s frigid power.
A few weeks ago, he’d almost died by the same hands that had snuffed out his sister. Just like that, he would have been gone, and Meg…She would have been truly forgotten, with no one left alive to remember her or the horrible injustice that was brought upon her.
His sister had been sunshine incarnate. Always thoughtful and caring, kind to the point of constantly putting herself in danger. She’d even shown up at the Faraway Mansion to try and convince Hunter to quit and come home. Despite the fact she’d had to sneak in, and it was the literal home of monsters powerful enough to snap her spine with as much effort as it’d take for them to snap their fingers.
Even knowing all of that, she’d come. For him.
And he’d sent her home on her own.
He couldn’t help but wonder how their lives may have been different if only he’d made a different choice and left with her that day. It wasn’t easy to get out of the Brumal, but if he’d asked Odin for help, there was a chance he would have given it…
Or he would have tightened the reigns, just like he was doing now.
Back then, it’d come down to either his sister or Odin, and he’d chosen the first. Now, it was between Hunter himself and the Snow Dominus. Could he choose the latter and set his pride aside, or would that be pathetic? Would it be like giving up? Which option would let Hunter sleep peacefully at night? Would untangle the twisted knot that had been cinching tighter and tighter in his gut?
Odin claimed he could wait for as long as it took. But Hunter didn’t possess that kind of patience. Accepting him as his Shout would give him freedom from this room, but it would inadvertently and irrevocably trap him at Odin’s side. Forever.
Because no matter the reasoning behind his obsession, whether Odin wanted him for power or wanted him for his body or even if he genuinely cared, in the grand scheme of things it didn’t make a difference. The why of it didn’t change the outcome.
Odin wanted Hunter, wanted to own him and claim him and keep him. He’d made that abundantly clear.
There was no escape.
He chuckled humorlessly as it hit him. It wasn’t even about if he’d lose himself. It was only a matter of when.
Either Hunter gave in now, or he gave in later.
