The Hunt (Shifter Origins) Read online

  Rafé snatched Cara by the elbow and pulled her closer. She bumped into his bare chest. “Your blood,” he growled, examining the wound that was raised and pink, with dried blood encrusted around the edges.

  “Who did this to you?” But before she could get out the words, he bellowed, “The prince?”

  “No,” she sputtered, shaking off his grip. She covered the cut with her hand. It radiated with heat. “No, he didn’t.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Rafé snarled. “He hurt you! That’s it. It’s about time we did something about him and his tyrant family!”

  The Majasha men shouted in agreement, all except for Danil, who stayed quiet and sank away from the others.

  “Down with the tigers!” Felic raised his fist in the air.

  “Return of the golden era!” Sani roared.

  Rafé whirled around. He pulled out a knife from an unseen pocket at his hip and raised it high. Its curved blade and jeweled handle sparked Cara’s memory. It was Kael’s dagger, the same one he had threatened Ryna and Alina with when he’d chased her into their hut. She’d seen him drop it when he’d been tugged into the village center. Rafé must have claimed it then.

  Panic zigzagged through her as Rafé started to march back up the river. His men parted for him, and when he passed, they knitted together again and followed close behind.

  Without hesitation, Cara chased after him. Her frantic pulse thundered against her eardrums as she darted around the group, weaving between Felic and Barun’s knives. She jumped in front of Rafé, causing him to stop short.

  “Don’t do this, Rafé,” she said.

  He tried to sidestep her, but she met his movements. “Move, Cara. I should have never listened to you the first time and let that bastard go. If I had killed him then, none of this would’ve happened.”

  A growl vibrated in his throat. “It’s about time we stopped living in fear. I won’t let anyone, tiger or not, hurt you and walk away from it.”

  For some reason, the thought of harm coming to Kael made her entire body tremble with worry. Even considering all of the palace guards, Rafé was ruthless and cunning, and with four equally skilled men following his orders without question, she didn’t want to think about how close the fight would be. Just the idea of it made her stomach turn.

  Cara reached out and touched Rafe’s chest. His heart thumped against her fingertips. She fought to keep her voice calm. “Rafé, please, listen to me. The prince didn’t do this. When the assassin tried to kill him, the dart grazed me instead.”

  Rafé grew rigid, and the anger faded from his eyes. He lowered the blade. “The assassin did this?”

  “Yes,” she breathed, relieved he was finally listening to her. “He scaled the prison cell’s wall. I pushed Kael out of the way, and the dart grazed me instead.”

  “Kael?” His brow furrowed. “You call him by his first name?”

  Cara pressed her lips together. She was making things worse, but she had to explain. “He saved my life, Rafé. The poison was killing me, and he brought in a healer. I am lucky to be alive.”

  “Is that what he told you? Kael?” He huffed. “He was probably lying.”

  Cara thrust her wounded arm at him. “Does this look like a lie?”

  “From what it sounds like, you saved his life first. You got hurt doing it. He owed you.”

  “Yes, but he didn’t have to do anything. He could have left me there to die.”

  “I’m sure he thought about it,” Rafé grumbled.

  Cara’s breath hitched, remembering some of the last words Kael had said before she left. If he hadn’t thought about leaving her to die before, he had now. “B-But he didn’t,” she struggled to get out. “And he let me go.”

  Rafé ran a hand through his wet hair, slicking any unruly pieces back into place. His chest heaved with every intake of breath. “He just let you go? That’s it? He didn’t ask for anything in return?”

  “No fight. No struggle. Nothing. When the assassin attacked again, he knew it couldn’t have been me. He told me to go.”

  There had been more. A lot more, but Rafé didn’t need to know all the details of her foolishness. She wished she could forget it herself.

  “It’s over,” Cara told him, hoping that would be enough to convince him. “I’m tired and hungry. All I want to do is go home and see Alina. I’m sure Ryna has something to put on this.” She nodded toward her gash. “I’ll be fine.”

  Rafé’s nostrils flared, but he waved at the Majasha men to settle down and fall in behind him. “Let me walk you back, then.” He sighed. “Just in case.”

  “Just in case of what?” Did he think she was still in danger? Kael was in his palace, far away from her. She would probably never see him again.

  “It’ll make me feel better,” he replied.

  She nodded, knowing that if she refused he might change his mind about letting Kael be. Rafé let out a short whistle, and the Majasha men scattered, going their separate ways.

  Rafé touched the small of her back and guided her to turn around. They took a few steps down the river before the feeling of being watched crawled up her spine again. Cara glanced over her shoulder. Danil remained in the same place. His large, brooding eyes locked with hers.

  She paused, a wave of apprehension sweeping over her.

  Rafé’s hand pushed a little harder on her back, urging her on. “I’m surprised you aren’t running back to the village,” he chuckled. “I can almost smell Ryna’s herb tea from here.”

  Distracted, she gave him a fleeting smile and fell into step beside him. As they rounded the bend leading to the village’s entrance, Cara stole another glance over her shoulder.

  Only Danil’s thin shadow lingered.

  Not even a second later, it slipped into a nearby cluster of trees and disappeared.

  Chapter Nine

  Rafé guided Cara to her small, slanted house set at the back of the panther village and left her with the promise of visiting later. Even though he didn’t mention it again, his offer to run together in the Hunt loomed over her. Tightness gripped her chest at the thought of mating with a man she didn’t love, but at least she could depend on him to care for Alina and Ryna.

  They could have a much better life than the one they were living.

  She only had three days before the Hunt. It felt like too short a time for anyone to make such a decision.

  Drawing in a lungful of thick, hot air, Cara pulled back the torn curtain over the door of her home. The morning light spilled into the crowded space. The fire pit crackled and spat, the flames stretching over Ryna’s chipped pot of water and pungent herbs. Usually the spicy scent of the brewing tea was strong enough to make Cara’s eyes water, but this time, tears gathered for another reason. The colliding smells of honey, cinnamon, hilisha, and the many other ground herbs her grandmother collected told Cara that finally she was home. She stepped inside.

  “Cara!” Alina smacked into her, almost sending Cara toppling over. “You’re back!”

  Cara dropped to her knees and pulled her sister into a tight hug. Alina squeezed back.

  “I told you I wouldn’t be gone long,” Cara said, not wanting to let go. She smiled at the familiar feel of her sister’s embrace—her warm cheek pressed against her shoulder, her arms wrapped around her neck, and her whispers in her ear.

  “You promised,” Alina murmured.

  “I did, and here I am.”

  “You won’t have to leave again?”

  When her sister lifted her head, Cara noticed dirt smudged across her cheeks, chin, and forehead. “Never,” she replied. “You’re stuck with me forever.” She licked the pad of her thumb and rubbed one smear across Alina’s cheek. It did little to clean it, but Cara didn’t care. The thought of never seeing those dirty cheeks again made tears spring up in her eyes once more. She blinked them away before Alina could see and kissed her nose, the same gesture her mother and father used with her growing up. Since her sister knew very little of their par
ents, Cara had made it a small exchange of love between them. It was theirs now. Just theirs.

  Cara’s stomach sank at the memory of their mother and father. She wondered if Alina dreamed of them. Did she ever wonder what they looked like, smelled like, or sounded like? Cara could tell her hundreds of times that her mother smelled like honey and hilisha flowers, or that her father’s voice was loud and always tinged with laughter, even when he was trying to be stern. Or that she and Alina both shared their mother’s dark hair, but her sister’s face was more like their father’s with her rounder cheeks, flat nose, and dimpled chin.

  But in truth, it didn’t matter how many times Cara explained them. Telling Alina about their parents and living with them were two very different things. It wasn’t the same.

  Alina moved to sit on the patchwork bed she and Cara sometimes shared when her sister’s nightmares plagued her sleep. With quick hands, Alina unraveled her braid and combed her fingers through the silky black strands.

  “Ry went to the well for another bucket of water,” Alina said, using her nickname for their grandmother. She separated her hair into three pieces and began to twist them into a new braid. “She might be talking to the nice woman, Farrah. She’s been over here a lot. Rafé, too. He even brought us a stag! Well, not the entire stag, but its leg. Not one of the scrawny front legs, either. One of the meaty back ones! You should have seen it, Cara. The thigh was the size of my head!”

  “Your head, huh?” Where had Rafé gotten such a meal? Had he traded for it? It must have cost a hefty price. But all her questions were easy to ignore once she saw the grin spreading across Alina’s face. Cara stood, chuckling.

  “Ry cooked some of it last night. There’s plenty left. You have to try it. I haven’t had stag since…”

  Cara’s empty stomach grumbled at the mention of food, and Alina giggled. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten anything. She walked to the pot over the fire and peered inside. Ryna was definitely making another batch of tea. The leafy brew boiled, and the colliding mix of herbs stung the inside of Cara’s nose. Ryna’s teas didn’t always taste the best, and sometimes they were hard to swallow, but her grandmother was convinced they had special properties. Her nighttime brew for Alina always helped her drift to sleep, but Cara never got much from drinking them besides a stomachache.

  Suddenly, the curtain was pulled back and sunlight streamed into the hut. Ryna hobbled inside, back hunched and attention on the bucket of water she struggled to hold with one hand. Her nostrils flared, as if she was picking up a new scent—Cara’s scent—and when her head snapped up, she let go of the bucket’s handle. Out of reflex, Cara’s hand shot out, catching it before it hit the ground and spilled.

  “Cara?” Ryna gasped, covering her mouth with a trembling, bony hand. Her eyes reflected the firelight and glowed, and her hair was twisted in a thick ring around her head, a halo of white. Cara had a feeling that was Alina’s doing.

  Her voice quivered with happiness and disbelief. “I didn’t think we’d ever… But—how?”

  The moment Cara put the bucket down, Ryna wrapped her arms around her and drew her in close. Cara ignored the burning of her wound and welcomed her grandmother’s embrace. “I’m here, Ryna. There’s no need to worry anymore.”

  “I didn’t think you’d ever come back to us,” she whispered. “I prayed to Sajra they’d release you or you’d escape.”

  Ryna held her tight for a long moment. When she stepped back, a tender smile lifted her wrinkles. “She must have heard my prayers this time. I was starting to believe she didn’t listen to us panthers anymore.”

  “Alina gave you that much trouble?” Cara joked, glancing over at her sister, who stuck out her tongue.

  Ryna’s tone turned stern. “Cara, you know what I mean. Not many panthers go into the tigers’ prison and come back out.”

  “I know, Ryna,” she replied with a sigh. “But I got out, and I’m here now. Can we forget about what could have happened and just be relieved it didn’t?”

  “Yes, I suppose so.” Then, her gaze found Cara’s wound, and she frowned. She stretched out her fingers, hovering over the split skin. Before Cara could explain what had happened, Ryna shook her head. “Ever since you were a cub, you always got into things, collecting cuts and bruises. Someday you’re going to make my poor heart stop. Please don’t tell me what happened. I don’t think I want to know.” She took a ladle and bowl from the shelf above her bed before turning back to the fire. Scooping some tea into the bowl, she handed it to Cara. It was warm against her palms.

  Cara stared down at the green-tinted brew, grimacing.

  “For strength,” Ryna said.

  Cara raised the bowl to her lips and blew some of the rising steam away, hoping that this brew would be one of the few her stomach could handle.

  Ryna threw her an impatient glare. “You have to drink it hot,” she said.

  Cara gulped some down, the heat scalding the back of her throat. The smoky flavors of ginseng and nuna root were the first she recognized, then, the tang of citrus and blackberries. The rest she couldn’t name, but she liked the way it felt going down. Fiery at first, it turned into an icy heat—cool yet prickling hot—warming her insides and making her fingers and toes tingle. She took another long sip.

  “Rafé said he was going to bring you back from that terrible palace prison, but I didn’t believe him. I can’t believe he managed it,” Ryna said, taking the bowl from her when she’d drained it.

  It seemed Rafé had shared with her grandmother his plans to rescue her. Cara wondered what else he’d told her. Annoyance pinched at her. “Rafé didn’t rescue me from the prison.”

  “Oh? Then how did you…?”

  “That may have been his plan, but that’s not how it worked. It’s a long story.”

  She glanced up, mumbling a quiet prayer, then said, “Another thing I don’t want to know about?”

  Cara chuckled, shrugging a shoulder, then winced when a stabbing pain shot from the wound to her elbow and back up.

  “You need something for that arm, too.”

  Cara glanced at the gash. It had stopped bleeding, but the flesh was swollen and pink. “Do you have anything for it?”

  She nodded and took something off the shelf. Ryna gestured for Cara to sit on her cot, and she did. It was hard under her bottom, nothing like the lush cushions of Kael’s bed. The thought of Kael made a vibrating current push through her body. It radiated over every muscle, every bone, every inch of skin.

  What was really in that tea?

  “Let me see your arm,” Ryna ordered, and Cara turned to give her a better view. Her grandmother huffed in disgust. “Maybe I do want to know how this happened. That’s no ordinary cut.” What she had retrieved from the shelf was a tiny glass jar, just big enough to fit in the palm of her hand. She stuck a finger inside and gathered some of the clear jelly.

  Cara hoped it wouldn’t sting too much. With Alina watching them intently, she didn’t want to shed any tears. Ryna rubbed the concoction onto the wound, making Cara suck in a quick breath. Fire erupted beneath her skin. She bit her lip to prevent a scream from spilling over.

  “Give it a second,” Ryna cooed.

  The moment she said the words, the strange jelly chilled, the icy feeling seeping into her pores. Goosebumps spread over her arm and shoulder, and for the first time since the dart grazed her, her muscles eased around the cut. Cara sighed in relief.

  “It will help with the pain and with the healing,” Ryna said. “So, how did this happen?”

  Cara picked apart her explanation in her head. As with Rafé, she didn’t want to give away too much. But unlike Rafé, Ryna was bound to ask for more. “When I was in the prison, the prince visited me. He had spoken to the lynx in the marketplace and discovered that my story of trading with him was true. He wanted to release me.”

  “Release you?” Ryna’s thin brows rose as she sat beside Cara on the bed. “That doesn’t sound like the tigers at all.”r />
  “I know. I was surprised myself.” But sometimes, Kael acted different than she expected. Especially for a tiger and the prince of Sajra. Cara shushed the voice in her head and continued with the less detailed story. She told her grandmother about the assassin scaling the wall, the scent of mint, and the dart hitting her. When she got to the healer treating her upon Kael’s request, Ryna’s forehead furrowed in confusion.

  “The prince did what he could to save me from the poison,” Cara explained. “Then he let me go. Rafé met me on the riverbank.”

  “How strange,” she breathed. “It seems Prince Kael is very unlike his father, but I wonder if there will be something more he wants after this. Something as payment.”

  Cara had considered the same thing. Kael might still ask for something more from her. He knew where to find her if he ever needed her again. If he wanted to, he could bring his guards back and carry her off to the prisons again, just because. She shoved away the troublesome thoughts. Kael had made it clear by his cold and hateful goodbye that he didn’t want to see Cara again. She shouldn’t be worried.

  “This poison was the same poison that killed Rei Salus?” Ryna asked. “I heard it appeared as if he was being boiled alive—the thrashing and bubbles leaking out of his mouth.”

  “It did,” Cara replied. “It was terrible.” Then, she remembered the name of the plant Kael had mentioned. “Ryna, have you ever heard of a plant named teralau? It’s the plant the poison’s extracted from. The Nobles tried to rid the forest of it.”

  Ryna’s eyes widened. “Did you say teralau?”

  “So you know of it?”

  “I do. You’re lucky to be alive.” She swallowed. “The last time I heard of teralau, my Hani was adviser to Noble Vallius.”

  Cara choked on her coming words. Hani, her grandfather, was adviser to a Noble? Ryna had told her many stories of the golden era, when the Nobles reigned, and of her grandfather, but she’d never told Cara this. From Ryna’s tales, Vallius was the oldest Noble and the last of them to die. It was said that he was the first to have been spawned from Sajra’s spirit, the very first great cat shifter. Cara wondered why Ryna had never shared this part with her before.