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Averell took yet another glance out the front window. Stew bubbled on the fire, and the hour for the evening meal had come and gone. Her father hadn’t returned from the hunt he’d left for early that morning and worry tightened her chest.
He never missed his dinner when not on a trip to the village.
When another hour went by, her concern grew. After taking the stew off the fire, she covered the iron pot with its matching lid, set it on the hearth’s lip and then donned her typical hunting garb: deer skin leggings, leather knee boots, an ivory gown that she rucked up in front with buckles on leather stays, a leather stomacher that cinched her waist, and her brown wool cloak. Once she donned her leather gloves, she grabbed her quiver of arrows and her bow, and was out the cottage door in less than ten minutes.
The night closed around her with a hint of a summer’s chill that kept humidity at bay. All around her the skittering of rodent feet and the rustle of shrubbery leaves let her know she wasn’t alone beneath the canopy. As the light from the moon—it would be full in two nights—filtered through the trees, it dappled and frosted the ground with silver.
Perhaps in different circumstances, she would pause to study it, for the effect was lovely, romantic even, but tonight, her stomach cramping with unease and alarm, she ignored it and used the light to help her search for signs her father had passed this way.
Averell had walked an hour before she paused to rest. Papa, what has become of you? Her hairs on her nape prickled with warning. Something was close... and watching. She cocked her head to better listen. A soft snort from an animal followed by panting breath broke the stillness. Slowly, she turned and concentrated her focus on the undergrowth. There it was. Amber eyes of a beast glowed from deep within the foliage.
She sucked in a breath. Her heartbeat accelerated. The cold sweat of fear slid down her spine and plastered her dress to her back. Those were not the eyes of a deer. They belonged to a predator. As quietly as she could, she drew an arrow from her quiver. There would be one opportunity to put the beast down if it attacked.
In the space of her next inhalation, the eyes disappeared. Averell held her arrow nocked on the bowstring for long moments, her body tensed in anticipation of the predator springing out of the shrubbery, but nothing happened. Had it moved on or did it even now watch her?
Eventually, she relaxed and continued on her way, but she couldn’t banish those eyes from her mind. They were familiar and she didn’t know why.
Ever deeper into the forest, moving along pieces of land she’d not explored in-depth by herself, Averell nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand dropped onto her shoulder and halted her forward momentum.
“Hold, Averell. I’m not your enemy.” Quinn’s voice seeped into her mind and she wilted with relief. He encouraged her to turn and when she did, their gazes connected. “What are you doing out here by yourself? There are things afoot this night that would like nothing more than to pounce.”
“Are you one of them?” She couldn’t help the teasing in her tone despite the concern that had brought her into the forest. Every time she was in this man’s company, she felt renewed and excited, as if she stood on the cusp of something amazing that hadn’t quite formed.
The night before, they’d strolled through the moonlight-frosted trees and talked of many things, most of which had nothing to do with their personal lives. At one point, Quinn had held her hand and threaded their fingers together, and it had felt as if such a thing were the most natural gesture in the world. When they’d parted, he’d kissed her forehead, but his eyes had darkened with a desire he didn’t voice.
I want to know of that desire.
Now, his soft laughter sent frissons of excitement over her skin that intensified the awareness she held for him. “Perhaps I might be if the circumstances were right.”
Shivery sensation tripped down her spine, both anticipatory and disturbing. “Would that we had the opportunity for flirtation or even scandal, but I’m afraid I am out here on a more urgent mission.”
“What has happened?” Trepidation flooded his voice and he gripped her shoulders in his gloved hands. The light of the moon flashed in his brown eyes, turning them amber for the space of a heartbeat.
“My father didn’t return to the cottage for dinner. He never misses a meal unless he’s on his monthly trip to the village.” She gripped her bow and arrow tighter. “I fear he has met with peril.”
“Was he out on a regular hunting trip?”
How much should she reveal to this man? When she didn’t answer, he gently shook her.
“Averell, I need the truth, for I cannot help if I don’t have all the facts. What was your father about?”
Her heart squeezed. This man would assist, when he’d never met her father. “He is the queen’s personal huntsman, and for whatever reason she tasked him with killing a young girl whose beauty is reputed to be so great the queen is threatened by it. She demanded the girl’s heart for proof.” She forced a swallow to encourage moisture into her suddenly dry throat. What must he think of them? “He lamented to me that he couldn’t do it, that he wasn’t a murderer, so I suggested he swap out a human heart for that of a stag’s.”
Quinn’s lower jaw hung open slightly. “I... I don’t know quite how to respond.”
How would he react if she told him said queen was her mother? No reason to reveal that at the moment. She nodded. “It’s horrid to contemplate, but time is of the essence.” She laid her free hand on his chest—his very hard chest. “My father left at first light for the hunt. He’s not returned, and that is unlike him.”
“Never fear.” He held her gaze. Compassion reflected in those ever-changing depths as well as something powerful and primal. The more she peered into his eyes, the more curious and eager she grew. It was almost... mesmerizing. “We shall find him. Together. I won’t let you continue this quest alone.”
“You would do this regardless of your own schedule or the fact you have never met my father?” She shivered as a breeze blew over the area, and Quinn wrapped his arms around her.
“I do this for you, because you are upset and you believe something has happened. Everything else is not of consequence.” He held her close and she borrowed strength from him. “Besides, what better way to force an introduction to your father than finding him upon a hunt?”
She smiled, and she lost a piece of her heart to him in that moment. His scent of cedarwood and citrus teased her nose. “Thank you. I’m certain he will instantly take a liking to you.” Papa had already given her his blessing to keep seeing Quinn, but it would be nice for them to meet. When she stirred, he released her and she mourned the loss of his warmth. “We’d better crack on then. I know not what we’ll find, but I’m anxious just the same.”
“I understand.” He patted her cheek, lingering his gloved fingers upon her skin. “Prepare yourself for any possibility. From what you’ve said, this queen doesn’t sound like someone to trifle with, and if your father has indeed deceived her...”
Averell nodded. She swallowed heavily and when tears stung the backs of her eyelids, she willed herself not to cry. It would solve nothing. “Let’s go.”
Yet he slipped his hand to her nape and tugged her close. “I’m here now. We’ll meet what comes together,” he whispered. Then he fitted his mouth to hers, moving gently over her lips in a kiss that promised much and set her blood on fire. When he pulled away, the amber tint colored his eyes once more. “Come.” He held out a hand.
As she placed her free hand in his, she frowned. Why was it they’d basically met at night and in the woods and why did he have such intense energy about him, almost as if he was holding his power back? What secrets did he hide in those fascinating eyes behind his veneer of charm? These were things she’d need to discover and soon... before she fell so completely for him that she couldn’t find her way back.
An hour later, they came upon her father. He lay slumped against a fallen tree. A dagger protruded from his abdomen, the golden hilt glittering in the moonlight.
“Papa!” Averell raced over the distance separating them. She dropped her bow and the arrow she still held. Decaying leaves and pine needles muffled her boot steps. She threw herself onto her knees at his side. Her stomach muscles clenched in fear. “Who did this to you?” Blood coated his clothing and had pooled on the ground beneath him.
“Averell?” His eyes fluttered open. Joy creased his too-pale face. A trickle of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth. “Of course you would find me. You never did manage to follow my dictates and remain safe.” He dropped a hand onto her head and petted her hair as he’d done when she was a small child. “Go home. These woods are not the place for you this night. She is about.”
“I won’t leave you.” She clutched at his hand, leaned forward and kissed his cheek. He was so cold. As panic climbed her spine, she glanced over her shoulder at Quinn. “What can we do?”
“I’m afraid there is nothing we can do that will save your father,” he murmured as he knelt at her papa’s other side. Quickly, he examined the wound as best he could without removing the dagger. “The cut is deep and it has undoubtedly sliced through internal organs. As it is, he’s lost copious amounts of blood. And from the rapid state of things, I’d wager the blade was dipped in poison as well.” He met her gaze. “Say your goodbyes.”
Tears sprang to her eyes as she glanced between the two men in her life—one she’d just met and had come to rely on and one she’d known a lifetime but now must lose. “This is terrible.”
Despite the egregious circumstances, her father chuckled. “This must be Quinn, the huntsman who has captivated my daughter.” He held out a hand. “Pleasure to meet you, son.”
“I can see where Averell gained her temperament and strength,” Quinn responded and clasped the proffered appendage.
Her father’s hand shook as he held Quinn’s gaze. “Do you promise you do not trifle with her affections?” Saliva bubbled at one side of his mouth.
“I promise. What I feel for your daughter is...” He paused as if considering his words carefully. “...surprising and encouraging.”
“Good.” Her father nodded. “Take care of her in my stead. She is something special.”
“I will do my level best,” Quinn promised. “You’ve done your daughter proud.”
This cannot be happening! Averell squeezed her father’s fingers until he transferred his attention back to her. “Tell me who did this to you so that I may avenge your death.” If she had to lose him, the least she could do was find his murderer and inflict justice.
He shook his head. When he coughed, his lungs rattled with wetness. “The queen. I’d found a stag shortly after I set out this morning.” He paused, his breath labored. “I cut out its heart and deposited it into the box she’d given me.” A cough interrupted his words. He spat out blood. His lips were turning blue. “I didn’t wish to wait to present it to her, so I took myself off to her castle.”
“Oh no.” Tears fell to her cheeks. “She knew, didn’t she? But how?”
“She did, and I’m convinced now more than ever she possesses powerful dark magic.” He coughed again. “She didn’t say anything at the time and allowed me to leave, but as soon as I gained the forests, she appeared, and in my surprise, I froze. She rammed her blade home, and I knew.” Her father shifted slightly but his face was a mask of pain. “I couldn’t make it home.”
“I cannot lose you.” Her voice broke and she pressed his gloved palm to her cheek. “Surely there is a way to save you.”
The air around them glimmered with green and purple sparks. Quinn shot to his feet. He stood guard in front of Averell and her father.
“Show yourself,” he demanded of the undulating cloud.
“What is happening?” she whispered. Cold fear slid down her back.
“Bad magic,” Quinn whispered.
Then a woman materialized from the glittering cloud. Tall and slim, a black cloak obscured her figure and hid her hair and eyes, but her lips were blood red. “How unfortunate I must bear witness to such a heart wrenching scene,” she said without an explanation, and the darkness of her voice slid over Averell’s skin like squid ink. She came forward a few steps and pointed a red-painted fingernail at Quinn. “Be gone with you, peasant.” With a flick of her wrist, he was tossed aside, landing in the shrubbery nearby.
Her father gasped. “Queen Grimhilde, at least allow me the dignity to die without you mucking that up, too.”
Averell stared. Her jaw hung open. This woman—this killer—was her mother. “Leave him be.”
“Tsk, tsk, child,” said the queen. She glided forward. Did her feet even touch the ground? “I asked for a life. He failed to deliver, so I took his. Now you need to pay for his betrayal.”
“How?” Slowly, Averell stood even as her father scrabbled for her hand and urged her to stay quiet. Somehow, this woman would pay for what she’d done.
“Such spirit.” The queen came ever closer. She peered into Averell’s face. “There was a time, dear girl, when I had considered keeping you, molding you into my image.”
“Using me as your own personal pawn in a game I want no part of,” she spat out as Quinn struggled to his feet. What would he think of the proceedings? Her throat tightened. Would he still want her now that he knew the truth of her parentage?
A cold chuckle escaped the queen. “Perhaps, but then everyone has their uses.”
Averell planted her hands on her hips and glared.
The queen waved a hand at Averell’s father. “You are much like I was at your age. Pity we are on opposite sides now.” She backed away. “In any event, I must attend to Snow White myself.” She cast a look of loathing at Averell’s father. “However, I need you to kill Prince Charming of Annanvale for me. I simply cannot be in two places at once, and both are pressing engagements.”
“What?” Averell’s cry blended with Quinn’s.
The queen rolled her eyes. “It’s a small task at best. An in and out job, really. The prince is a wolf shifter. Such abomination mustn’t be allowed, and besides, I want his kingdom, for his lands border mine and are richer in resources. This existence has become so... stifling. I wish for more.” She floated backward. “Charming, or rather Prince Henry, is powerful with his wolf magic. I wonder if he truly knows that yet?” she said more as an aside. “If he does, he might decide to come after me, and I cannot allow that, for I have much to conquer.” Her laugh made Averell want to retch. “If he’s killed, he’ll never become king, and his father is frail, easily overthrown. Charming’s brother can be manipulated.”
From behind her, Quinn growled and the sound sent gooseflesh sailing over her skin.
“If I refuse your dictate?” Averell breathed a sigh of relief when he reached her side and slipped a protective arm around her waist.
“Why, I’ll kill you, of course. All magic has a price, girl. Did you think I would let your father spirit you away, the fruit of my loins, give you a small portion of my magic, without exacting payment at some point?”
“Dear God,” Quinn breathed as he stared at her, his eyes hooded. “You are her daughter? This isn’t a terrible joke?”
“Unfortunately, this is so,” Averell whispered back. There was no time to explain or even talk about the implications. She addressed the queen. “If you wish to kill me, do it, but be warned. I will fight.”
“Not against magic,” Quinn hissed. “You can’t.”
She brushed him away and stood firm. If there had indeed been a magic transfer at her birth—and there had to have been for she felt that obscure power buried deep within her—then she would bide her time in how she would use it.
“Ah, you would have made an excellent minion I think. Too bad there is more good in you than ill.” The queen pointed her blood red-tipped finger at Averell. “You have three nights to carry out this task.” Another round of laughter escaped her. “Two nights, really, for this one is almost expired. Kill Charming at his ball two nights hence or I shall snuff your life as I did your father’s.” She grinned, but there was no mirth in the gesture. “Remember, Mama loves you... or I would have had I not had other plans. Or been a different person.”
Another cloud of green and purple glitter formed and then suddenly the queen vanished. After the colors faded, the darkness was that much thicker.
Beside her, Quinn stiffened. “I must return home. The situation is most dire indeed.”
Averell swallowed the sour sickness in her throat. How had her life come to this pass? Panic threatened and she clung to his hand. “Please don’t leave me alone.”
“Averell...” The whisper from her father redirected her attention. She fell to her knees at his side once more.
“Oh Papa, I’m so sorry.” She laid her head on his shoulder as his breathing grew more shallow.
Quinn stood nearby, a perfect study of confliction, his body tense with wanting to run, but his expression shadowed with compassion. He remained, and she loved him all the more for it.
“Find a way to outsmart her.” Her father gasped for breath. “Do not let her turn your heart to darkness.” The horrible rattle echoed in her ears. “Fight for the good that is in you—fight for love.”
“I promise.” She wrapped her arms around him as he took his final inhalation.
Then, he slumped against her, his heartbeat silenced.
For a time, she cried as she held his body. Eventually, Quinn laid him on the ground and crossed his arms over his chest.
“We must go,” he quietly cautioned as he drew her to her feet.
“I cannot leave him here. It’s not right.” How was she to go on without him?
“Averell, look at me.” Quinn put a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head until their gazes met. “We have to go, but I promise we will do right by your father. I’ll see to it personally.”
What did that mean? She nodded. “Where are we going?”
“To Annanvale.”
She gasped. “You shouldn’t. Didn’t you hear what the queen said I had to do?” She shook her head. “If you work closely with the royal family, it is your sworn duty to protect them—from me.” Her eyes widened as she realized the enormity of the situation. She glanced at the dagger hanging from his belt. “Will you kill me?”
“No. That is not my way.” Quinn tugged her into his arms. “However, once we attend to matters, we must talk, openly and without secrets. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Perhaps she would have her answers if only to understand him better. Her stomach bottomed out as she peered into his eyes that were amber once more. Shadowed with a need she didn’t understand but that circled deep within herself, those eyes haunted her soul and called to her. “Quinn?”
“What?” He drew so close that their lips brushed as they spoke.
“Thank you for not abandoning me after... everything.” It spoke volumes of his character that he remained with her.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. We all have sides of ourselves we don’t like for others to know about,” he said and then he claimed her mouth in a proper kiss.
Bewildered, her head spinning, Averell sighed against his lips as pleasure washed over her. Kissing him was magic of its own, and as he moved his mouth over hers, she mirrored what he did. She kissed him back; his manly lips cradled hers perfectly. When she trailed the tip of her tongue along the flesh of the bottom one, Quinn groaned and the sound sent need lancing through her to bury itself between her thighs.
This was real, this was right, this was... wonderful. Heat replaced the blood in her veins. Desire clouded her world. Yet the call she’d always known when around him strengthened. Whatever connected them wrapped around her, bringing her comfort and hope.
As he pulled away, she murmured a protest. He grinned, his eyes almost glowing in the moonlight. “I agree with the sentiment, but now is not the time for exploring intimacy. We must go. There are many miles to cover this night.”
“What of the queen’s task and my imminent demise?” Without the wonder of being in his arms, fear and grief rushed back in to overtake her prior joy.
He released her to grab her hand. “We will puzzle that out as well.” Quinn lifter her hand and pressed a kiss into her gloved palm. “Trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Good. You’ll do well to remember that as time goes on.”
She frowned as she retrieved her weaponry before they set off. Why did that have such an ominous ring to it?