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Beside me, Ves let out a quiet, ‘Well, fuck.’

A girl in a green dress had just been led into the arena.

She stumbled as the fae leading her yanked on her rope.

Breathe.

In my peripheral vision, I saw Solas glance over at me.

‘You know, I think you undervalued that last one.I’m sure I’ve hunted him before,’ Ves said loudly, trying to draw Solas’s attention.

‘I won’t undervalue this next one, then,’ Solas said.‘I think I’ve just spotted our grand prize.’

Breathe.

‘The nymph in the red?’I managed to say, but my voice sounded wooden, my tone inflectionless.And I couldn’t drag my eyes away from Imogen as she was walked around the arena for the spectators to gawk at.

‘Oh no.I like the human in the green.’

A low growl rumbled in my chest.Ves steadied me with a hand.

‘She’ll look excellent as a trophy on my arm at the Hunt Ball.What do you think, Tarian?I know it’s my choice as sovereign for the night, but I do like to consult my subjects on decisions.’

The cold bite of magic was gnawing at my hands, and I knew the ornate silver railing was corroding, twisting.Imogen was being led into the centre of the arena, her shoulders thrown back and her head held high.She must have been frightened, but she wasn’t showing it.It would have been better if she was.Maybe then Solas could have been talked out of his decision.But between my reaction and her air of defiance, this was a treat he wouldn’t drop.

‘This year’s grand prize,’ Solas announced, sweeping his arms wide.A louder round of applause went up this time as the crowd leaned in to better see who the Seelie King had determined the night’s most worthy prey.

Imogen licked her lips nervously and scanned the crowd, her gaze running over Solas, coming to rest on me.Her expression cracked for a moment, and I saw the fear.

‘You can’t participate if you break the rules now,’ Ves hissed out the corner of his mouth.‘And then someone else will catch her.’

No one else was going to fucking catch her.

Breathe.

‘Tarian,’ the queen’s voice suddenly cut in.‘Come here.’

Slowly, I unclenched my fists.The silver crumbled to the ground, leaving a gap in the railing that no one could miss.It took every bit of strength I possessed to turn away from the arena, to let Imogen be led back out into the dark, where she’d be held in waiting for dawn.I walked to the throne where my mother still sat, her sharp eyes assessing me, a frown drawing down her mouth.

‘Are you going to embarrass me by breaking the Beltane treaty this year?’she asked in a low voice, her gaze flicking to the railing.‘Is this how you want to punish me for setting the date for your wedding?’

‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ I said through gritted teeth.Because I wouldn’t.That would get me disqualified.And the point of my entire existence had just shrunk down to winning this hunt.

‘Then control yourself,’ she snapped, before smiling over my shoulder and offering a hand to Ves, who swooped in and kissed it.

‘My fault, Your Grace,’ he said smoothly.‘I’ve been doing my best to stir him up tonight.’

She visibly relaxed as she clicked her tongue at him.‘Then please stop, Vesryn.We don’t need our guests to think we mean to insult them by using magic when the terms of the games expressly forbid it.Especially when that magic is so unnatural.’

He perched on Solas’s empty chair and began talking about the game ahead.A mercy that allowed me to slip away.

As the darkest hour of the night approached, the participants in the hunt began to make their way to the edge of the forest.Only high fae could be hunters, and many would enter in the hopes of winning themselves some bragging rights at the ball to follow.Others would enter just for the thrill, and some would enter because a certain tribute had caught their eye and they wanted the shot to chase them down.There were no rules governing what happened to tributes once they were caught, other than the incentive to return with them alive.Points weren’t awarded for dead prey, but not all hunters were in it for the points.

Solas shed some of his plumage as we prepared for the game to begin, ignoring my smirk as he handed off his coat and began to stretch out his arms.Further down the line, Briyala was removing her bangles and shaking out her wrists, while Ves downed a shot and smacked his lips.I stood as still as stone as my instincts began to overcome my rational mind.The Hunt was always a dark hour, when fae would discard centuries of civility and fall into older, wilder parts of our race, ruled by instincts that were sharp and merciless.With my mate running as the Hunt’s grand prize, I would fall even deeper tonight.But for once, I wasn’t going to fight it.Because giving over to that feral, instinctive part of me was how I was going to win.

Finally, the line of tributes approached, tied one to the other and driven along by their masked handlers, who jostled and prodded them when they slowed.I was straining my eyes, trying to spot Imogen when the queen appeared beside me.

‘You seem eager this year,’ she said.Her gaze combed the approaching tributes, and I forced myself to look away, to flex my fingers and stretch my neck.