Page 5 of A Hunt Bound in Blood

“Cam. It’s been ten years.”

I gritted my teeth. “I’m well aware, but that doesn’t mean I’m giving up. I was falsely accused of trying to kill my king. My own father exiled me because my siblings were too cowardly to accept the consequences of their poorly planned coup. I can’t let them get away with it.”

Sy pressed his lips together and didn’t push the issue. He had to know there was no point. I’d been the crowned prince of Karhasan, something not many people in this country knew, though I didn’t keep it a secret. My father had held enough doubts about my guilt to spare my life, but he’d cast me out of my country on the word of the snotty brats who’d tried and failed to take over.

Since I’d moved here, they’d tried three times to finish what they’d started and get me out of the way. I’d sidestepped every attempt, and it had been years since I’d heard from them, despite giving them every opportunity to come at me again.

My vow to grind their faces into the molten rock of our homeland was what fuelled me, and I wasn’t about to let a little matter of years stand in the way of justice.

I opened the letter and scanned the tidily written script within.

Cammon Ruxo,

Your help is required on a matter of Golthwainian importance. You’ll receive a visit from Mage Dolan today with the details.

His Royal Majesty

Evaniel Duary, King of Golthwaine

“What does his regalness have to say?” Sy asked, leaning forward to read the letter upside down. I didn’t bother to hide it from him. If he was curious, his light fingers would discover the contents quickly enough.

“That we’re to expect a visitor asking me for a favour. Care to stick around and watch me turn down a king?”

Glory

III

The demon’s estate loomed over me through the wrought iron gates. Across the courtyard lay the front door, promising my heart’s desire or my possible death.

The carriage I’d hired to take me here had already driven off, leaving me alone on this long stretch of empty road. No one else was nearby, and I was grateful for the solitude as it gave me a moment to brace myself. I adjusted the strap of my satchel and rested my other hand on the gate, but even after three measured breaths, I couldn’t bring myself to open it.

If I was successful in enlisting Cammon Ruxo’s help, then I would be trapped under the demon’s watchful eye for a whole month, my emotions at his mercy. I would need to work hard to keep him at a distance, shut myself down, and stay focused on the goal.

My stomach tightened with nerves, and I shook out my hands to alleviate the uncomfortable buzz under my skin.

I could do this. Hiding myself from an observant, emotion-consuming demon would be a challenge, but I’d proved I was the type to overcome challenges. After all, I’d made my case before the king, hadn’t I? A new job would be waiting for me on my return. I just had to get through four short weeks.

I pulled my shoulders back, tugged on the bottom of my waistcoat—taking the opportunity to wipe my palms on the stiff material—and pushed the gate open over the crushed rock that lined the wide courtyard.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I approached the sprawling mansion with its three storeys of dark grey stone and peaked windows. The design was similar to the other estates that dotted the expanse of Golthwaine’s countryside, yet the atmosphere was markedly different. The other fine homes I’d visited showcased the owners’ affluence with impressive gardens and large, weeping fountains. Cammon Ruxo’s estate, while massive, carried an air of abandonment. It was well kept but lifeless. Which made sense, I supposed, given the frequency with which he travelled the country in search of his treasures. Or so it seemed from all the newspaper articles written about him.

The rich brown maple of the front doors was studded with black iron in a design that matched the front gates, and despite my opinions about my unwanted companion, my librarian’s heart appreciated his attention to detail.

I rapped my knuckles against the door, and almost immediately it opened to reveal a starched, severe-looking woman whose posture rivalled mine. The housekeeper, I guessed.

Feeling pinned under her steady stare, I tightened my grip on my satchel.

“I’m here to see Cammon Ruxo on behalf of King Evaniel,” I said, handing her the letter of introduction Segrew had given me.

The housekeeper raised a subtle eyebrow at my tone, and I acknowledged that my lack of social skills might put me at a disadvantage in my task. My awkwardness morphed into self-consciousness when the woman continued to stare at me, an unusual expression in her striking grey eyes. Almost like familiarity, which was absurd since I’d never met her.

I was on the brink of asking if she was all right when she blinked and, like a curtain, her mask of professionalism dropped into place. She glanced at the royal seal on the letter, then up at me. “If you’ll step inside, I’ll see if the master’s free. You may have a seat.”

I followed her into the lavish foyer and perched uncomfortably on a bench set against the wall while she walked upstairs with a steady, efficient stride.

If the estate’s exterior had struck me with its overbearing size, the interior was a stark contrast. For all its space, it was warm and welcoming, with brightly polished parquet flooring, wooden banisters, red-and-gold wallpaper, and framed mirrors offset with paintings of jovial parties and couples in intimate poses.

I rolled my eyes and turned away from the paintings, refusing to look any closer. Cammon Ruxo had obviously designed his foyer to evoke the feelings he most savoured. The sense of joy that comes from social engagements, love, lust.