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“Very well, then.” Eamon latched onto my arm and shoved me toward the gate, Kael followed, uselessly protesting. “The sun has nearly set. You must leave now.”
My eyes stung with tears, and I struggled to break free of his grip. “But Lyneth. At least let me tell her goodbye.”
“I’ll tell her you took her place.” Kael’s warm gaze met mine. “I’ll protect her too.” He glared at Eamon. “She’ll move in with me until she marries.”
“Thank you.” Breaking free of Eamon’s biting nails, I hugged Kael, whispering a heartfelt plea. “Tell her I love her, would you? That I’ll come back.”
“I will.” His face cratered with grief. He didn’t need to name it. We all knew.
No women had ever returned from the hunt.
Chapter2
Jaus
“You don’t need to watch over me,” Prince Madr said firmly from where he sat on a thick tree branch beside me.
I appreciated that he didn’t look down his broad nose at me like the king. “You know I do. Your father gave the order himself.”
“Ourfather,” he said with a lift of his thick brow.
Only Madr acknowledged our shared blood. The rest of the kingdom might whisper about my parentage behind closed doors, but any respect they deigned to give me had been hard won in battle against the shayde and dresalods. “Not as far as he’s concerned.”
“His mistake will be his downfall.”
“You must not say such a thing,” I hissed.
Madr’s jaw tightened, and he secured his moss-tinged hair so common in the royal Lumen Clan at the nape of his neck. I’d received my wine-colored streaks from my mother. “I merely state a fact.”
“Do not.” I shook my head to reinforce my words. “Never.”
“My damn father thinks I’m still fifteen. At twenty-eight, I’m perfectly capable of protecting myself.” He slapped my arm. “Besides, you might find yourself hunting tonight.”
“You know I don’t wish to claim a mate.”
“You don’t want someone to warm your bed and give you orclings?” my fellow Azuris clansman, Viskeete, asked from a branch below me. His husky laugh rang out. “Better chance for us, then.”
Others murmured agreement from where they crouched or sat on tree limbs nearby.
The sun would soon set, and two women would leave the village and enter the forest. Eighteen males—three from each of our six orc clans—would hold their breath, waiting to see who would be gifted with a mate.
Seventeen males, actually, because I was here to protect Madr, not chase after a woman.
“I believe you will hunt this night.” Speaking as if he could hear my thoughts, Madr hefted his flail. “No one will dare harm me even if you’re not standing at my side.”
“I’ll admit, you’re probably better with that weapon than me,” I said, noting how the spiked ball on the end of the chain secured to the top of the shaft sparkled in the late-day sunlight.
“Thathas yet to be proven.” He braced his palm on my shoulder, staring into my eyes. “Assuming I’m not selected tonight, I’ll happily join you on the mats when we return home to prove the point.”
I’d gladly fight my half-brother for sport. We’d wrestled and held friendly competitions against each other for much of our lives.
“I’ll take you up on that.” I kept my voice low so the others wouldn’t hear, not that Madr would care. He was the easiest royal to get along with.
“One comes,” Fudron of the Basselt Clan said. He lifted his hand, and we all turned to watch a woman wearing a long dress and carrying a bag slip through the large fortress gate. She hurried toward the forest, pausing to glance back only once, before she slipped into the woods below us. Finding a trail, she bunched up her skirts and ran.
“Ah.” Fudron’s Basselt pendant, a gray circle to represent stone or the very world we lived upon, flared where it dangled on his bare chest. He shot us a tusk-filled grin before springing to the ground and racing after her.
“Seventeen of us left,” Madr said, standing. “And only one more female—for this year, that is.” He gripped the tree trunk and watched the gate. It swung closed, the bar banging as it was secured.
