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Lore cried out a warning, but Finndryl was prepared. He jumped out of reach and swung out his leg, knocking the guard onto his back. Before the guard could roll out of the way or stand back up, Finndryl’s sword had slid into his chest, parting it like butter.

He withdrew his sword, and a fountain of blood watered the ground in its wake.

But hadn’t Finndryl said there was a third guard?

Lore looked around wildly but didn’t see anyone else. Suddenly, her head was yanked painfully to the side and the point of a dagger was pressed into her rib cage, angled up toward her heart. She swore.

“Let me go, you piece of shit!”

He ignored her, squeezing her tighter and whispering in her ear, rank breath making her want to gag. “Don’t move or I’ll pierce your heart right now,” he said.

Lore stilled, trying her hardest to pull air into her lungs without moving too much. She was either going to pass out fromsheer panic or burst into tears. She willed her eyes to stop roving around and instead looked at Finndryl.

“You killed them. You killed my friends.” The guard behind her sounded choked up, perhaps with sadness from losing his friends.

But Lore suspected it was mostly anger, outrage, or disbelief. They were supposed to be capturing a human girl. She imagined none of them had woken up this morning thinking it would be their last.

“Yes, I did.” Finndryl’s voice was quiet as he spoke. “And I’ll kill you for touching her.”

Shivers rose up Lore’s back. She could feel the guard’s wild, racing heartbeat and realized he was scared. The hunter had suddenly become the prey.

“D-don’t come any closer or I’ll end her right here. This is official, royal business. I have a letter I can show you. We—I mean, I—am sanctioned to capture her. Let me take her and you’ll be free to go. No one else has to get hurt.”

Finndryl smiled. It was the first smile she’d ever seen on him. His sharp canines gleamed even in the low light of the forest. His grin was feral, reminiscent of a cougar playing with its prey right before crushing its head beneath its paws.

Fear shot through her. Finndryl was absolutely terrifying.

Finndryl looked away from the guard and his eyes landed on Lore’s. She felt a fire roar within her the moment their gazes met. Warmth pooled in her belly even as her blood sang with fear. She knew what he wanted from her.

“Let me see this letter, then,” he said.

Just as the sentry opened his mouth to reply, Lore threw her head back, smashing her skull as hard as she could into the guard’s face. The sentry plunged his sword painfully into her side, splitting her skin and scraping against her rib.

She jerked away from the searing pain and dropped, rolling to the ground.

By the time she sat up, hand pressed to her side where the blade had cut her, the guard’s blood was pumping into the moss on the forest floor, mixing with his friends’.

Finndryl stood over him, casually wiping his blade on his thigh once more, like murdering guards who were on “official royal business” was normal for him.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever been more terrified.

***

Lore quickly backed up before the spreading pool of blood could reach her and soak into Isla’s dress, ruining it further. She stood with a grunt, pressing her hand to her side. The wound stung, but she wasn’t bleeding too badly. She would pack it with moss and cinch her belt a little higher.

She glanced at Finndryl where he stood, eyeing her wound.

“I’ll be fine. Nothing a few days of taking it easy won’t heal. Though it will scar. They always do when they get you with one of their knives.” She was babbling. Shock, probably.

She noticed that the only blood on him was the guard’s blood he’d wiped on his thigh.

“I don’t remember asking.”

Right. She’d forgotten for a moment that Finndryl was an ass.

Nevertheless, she would be dead, or worse, without him. “Thank you. For, you know, saving me.” Lore walked over to a fallen tree and plopped against it. She picked some moss off the log and gently began pulling up her dress so she could look at the wound better. She didn’t think it would still be bleeding too much.

Finndryl glanced away, putting his sword back in its sheath on his back. He grunted a reply to her thanks.