Page 3

Three

R uby woke up cold and alone on the forest floor.

It was still evening. At least, it looked like evening. But it couldn’t be. She had walked through the forest for hours before finally giving in and curling up against a tree.

Maybe the forest went on forever. That was what she heard, anyway. But, apparently, childhood stories weren’t as reliable as she thought.

She sat up, tightening her cloak around her shivering shoulders. A guide . She had never heard of the Bygone as a guide. Just an evil Skullstalker, luring victims to their doom.

Apparently, they had gotten much wrong about him. He hadn’t even heard of a Bygone. What else had they made up about him over the generations?

Ruby touched her cheek. Slate’s tongue had been massive, pink, and long as it trailed down her face. If everything about him was that big, she couldn’t see how they could ever complete a mating ritual.

Maybe he’ll force it in , whispered a worried voice at the back of her head. Maybe he’ll split you open.

The words sent a strange heat pooling between her legs, the same thrill that had started when he loomed over her that first time.

There was fear there, of course. But there was also something else…

She had dreamed of it last night: the loincloth pooling on the forest floor.

Those huge hands prying her thighs apart, claws pricking into her tender skin, those black eyes boring into hers as he pushed inside, impossibly big.

She supposed her nervous excitement didn’t matter. The thrill would fade once the agonizing pain set in.

Ruby’s stomach growled. She hadn’t brought any rations with her. She had assumed she would be dead before she needed them.

She stood and cleared her throat timidly. “I don’t suppose there are any lost souls around who can point me toward some food or water?”

Silence. Ruby sighed and started walking, glad that she had brought her sturdy boots.

She had barely made it two steps before something rustled in a nearby bush.

Ruby froze, her hand flying into her dress pocket to grab her dagger. “Hello?”

The dog spirit burst out of the bush, its tail wagging.

Ruby sagged with relief. “You almost gave me a heart attack! Where have you been?”

The dog spirit ambled up, tongue lolling. It gave Ruby’s knee a friendly nudge, and Ruby smiled in wonder at the strange, light weight of its furry head. If they were in the human realm, its head would have gone right through her knee.

She stroked the dog spirit, her smile growing at the barely-there sensation of its fur. “You don’t happen to know where I can find some food, do you?”

The dog spirit sat back and cocked its head.

“Didn’t think so,” Ruby said. “Want to come, anyway?”

The dog spirit barked, tail wagging harder.

Ruby laughed and led it further into the forest.

She sat down sometime later with a meal of bright orange eggs, surprised to find her fear had died down to a low simmer.

The dog spirit helped. Its cheerful disposition made the shadowy trees look less terrifying.

The flames she had used to heat the rocks started to die. Ruby pointed at it, and the flames soared so high she startled and had to lean back.

She was even more powerful in the Bygone’s void than in the mortal realm.

It didn’t make sense. Then again, apparently, she didn’t know as much as she thought.

The Bygone didn’t lure souls to their doom; he guided them out of it.

Neither Skullstalker she’d met had eaten her.

Mating rituals weren’t a rumor. And nothing in this terrifying forest had attacked her yet.

The dog spirit barked, resting its head on her knee and wagging its tail hopefully.

“You don’t even need to eat,” she told it. She poked at the orange eggs, which had crisped up nicely on the heated rocks. “What do you think, will these turn me into a frog?”

The dog spirit licked its chops.

Ruby sighed. Then she tucked a piece of egg into her mouth.

It tasted… fine. A little spicy, which she wasn’t used to. But otherwise, it tasted like any normal egg. And the more she chewed, the more she enjoyed the spice.

She was halfway through the second egg when a voice spoke up behind her.

“Mortal. What are you doing?”

Ruby shrieked and whirled around.

Slate loomed above her, his frown visible below his skull mask.

The dog spirit barked and jumped up at him enthusiastically.

Ruby eyed him worriedly, waiting for Slate to smite it. Or banish it. Or whatever Slate did to spirits that annoyed him. For all he called himself a ‘guide,’ he had confessed to wanting to eat her earlier.

But Slate only pushed the dog off with a distracted frown. Then, to her surprise, he gave the dog a pat behind its ears. He even retracted his claws, the dog whining happily under his touch.

Ruby wiped spicy grease off her mouth. “I… I found these eggs. Is that okay?”

Slate didn’t respond. He was staring at her with an expression she couldn’t identify. He was still petting the dog, looming over her so closely she could see the grooves in his white horns.

Then she noticed his lips part. His fangs glinted beneath them, impossibly sharp.

He’s hungry , Ruby realized with a jolt of cold fear. He’s thinking of eating me again.

She stepped back warily. “Slate?”

Slate blinked, startled. Then he straightened. “Why were you hungry? It hasn’t been long since I left.”

Ruby sagged with relief. Nobody was getting eaten today.

“With all due respect,” she said carefully. “It’s been at least a night.”

“Has it? Hmm.” Slate looked toward the blue flames. They went out immediately, and Ruby tried not to be disappointed. She had enjoyed playing with her suddenly powerful magic.

He held out a hand. “Come.”

Ruby eyed his long fingers cautiously. “Where are we going this time?”

“To my castle.”

“Castle,” Ruby blurted. She looked around the forest she just spent the night in, cold and uncomfortable. He had a castle ?

“Yes,” Slate said impatiently. “I must prepare you for the ritual.”

Ruby shivered. Last night’s dream drifted back, imagining those sharp fangs trailing over her skin.

“Little witch,” Slate said impatiently.

Ruby shook herself out of the shameful daydream. “Yes! Sorry, yes.”

She slipped her hand into his. His fingers were huge and cool, his claws pressing gently into her skin. His hand utterly enveloped hers, and not for the first time, Ruby was consumed by the idea of him holding her down. He would cover her completely. She would be helpless.

It terrified her. It excited her. But, before she could decide what she thought about it, he turned away from her and led her out of the forest.

It took a surprisingly short amount of time for the castle to reveal itself.

Ruby gasped and came to a stumbling stop.

The castle was huge, with giant black spires stretching toward an ever-darkening sky.

It wasn’t decaying . Not quite. But it was coming close. Moss crept over the walls, and vines worked stubbornly through the stones, spilling shadows. It was obvious the Bygone— Slate, she reminded herself—didn’t take much care of this place.

“Mortal,” Slate prompted, irritated. He tugged at her hand, as he had done several times throughout the walk whenever she dared walk too slow.

Ruby resumed her brisk pace and determinedly didn’t shudder as she passed the crumbling doorway.

Slate led her through a maze of twisting hallways. They turned so many corners Ruby stopped trying to keep track of where they were going.

Finally, he pulled her into a dark, cavernous room lined wall to floor with dirt-streaked stones.

Only then did he let go of her hand. It flexed at his side, his tail lashing. Ruby expected him to berate her for walking so slowly, but he said nothing for so long that it made her wonder if he was talking himself out of eating her again.

“Strip,” he said finally. “I will fetch the ritual oil.”

Ruby fought a blush. Of course, she would need to be naked, what else had she expected?

“Of course,” she mumbled. She wanted to keep meeting his eyes, prove she wasn’t afraid of him, but her gaze fell to the sleek floor as she untied her cloak.

Slate turned and walked out a door into a hallway that looked just as broken as this room.

The door was massive, Ruby noted. Like the rest of the castle, it was much bigger than a Skullwalker required. Maybe Skullwalkers like their architecture to be twice their already huge size.

Ruby unlaced her dress and thought back to the nest she’d found him in front of. The feather he had woven through it, the fur lining the edges. That he took care of. In contrast, the castle was falling apart.

Ruby pulled off her dress and shivered. This room was even colder than the forest. She clutched her clothes to her chest, trying to find someplace to set them down that wasn’t covered in filth or plant matter.

The giant door opened. Ruby jumped, dropping her bundle to the mossy stones.

If Slate noticed her nakedness, he didn’t show it. He placed a bowl of viscous blue liquid on a nearby table, which—much like the door—also looked too tall for him.

Slate dipped his fingers into the dark liquid and drew them out dripping. Then he turned to her and stopped.

“Arms down,” he instructed.

Ruby looked down. She had been covering her breasts. She hadn’t noticed.

She lowered her arms, fighting back a shiver. She was breaking out in goosebumps. Hopefully, he thought it was the icy air and not her racing heartbeat or the giddy lurch in her stomach that was only partly fear.

She took a deep breath and raised her eyes.

Slate was staring down at her, as she knew he would be. His face was unreadable behind his skull mask, but his eyes…

Her breath caught. People in her town glanced at her, at best. They never looked at her like the world was narrowing down into her. He still looked hungry, but there was something else in his expression now. She couldn’t tell what.