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A thunderous roar reverberated through the night. It echoed through the tent, shattering the moment Mareleau and Larylis had been sharing. Sweetness had filled their embrace mere moments ago—mingling with the joy and terror that came with knowing they’d soon be parents—but now they both froze, tensing in each other’s arms.

“What was that?” Mareleau whispered.

“A bear, probably,” Larylis said, trying to appear composed. Though he’d gone on countless hunts with his brother growing up, he never fully understood its appeal. Hunting prey, delivering killing blows, hearing animalistic screams when a wound missed its mark and caused unnecessary pain…he’d hated all of it. The sound he’d just heard reminded him too much of those screams—an eerie, keening cry of pain.

“A bear?” Mareleau pulled back from him, face ashen. “Bears can’t claw through tents, can they?”

He forced a reassuring smile to his lips. “There will be guards on patrol, ready to confront any hungry interlopers.” Even as he said it, an unsettling chill fell over him. In the wake of the roar, he heard only silence. He was grateful not to hear a repeat of the sound, but he expected to at least catch strains of commotion coming from the camp. As far as he could tell, the roar had come from nearby in the woods, which meant everyone else would have heard it too.

But…now that he thought about it, he hadn’t heard anything to suggest the hunting party had returned from their hunt. The darkness blanketing the tent walls told him it was well past nightfall, so they would have returned hours ago. Of course, it was possible he would have missed the party’s return. He had been rather… distracted .

Ever since he’d first entered the tent and laid eyes on Mareleau, she’d consumed his every thought. In the hours that followed, he’d been immersed in pleasure, in the joy of their reunion. Then came her confession, which had brought an entirely new set of emotions to contend with.

But in the hollow wake of that roar, he was reminded of all the other reasons he had to feel uneasy.

He pulled farther back and met his wife’s eyes. “Mare, I need to ask you some serious questions.”

She shrank down a little, pulling the small blanket her father had gifted her to her chest. He knew she’d purposefully changed the subject when he’d first suggested they speak of serious matters, but they’d ended up on one of the most significant topics anyway. Still, he couldn’t let her escape his line of questioning this time.

“There was a reason why I left my retinue to make haste to Ridine. That same reason drove your father to join me.”

“What reason?”

Anxiety tickled his chest. “Has my brother been acting…odd?”

Some of the tenseness left her composure, replaced with haughty annoyance. “Odd is a word for it.”

“How so?” Larylis held his breath, hoping her answer would be something mundane, dismissible.

“In the way he talks, I suppose. For a handful of days, I thought I could come to like him as a brother, but then he got…weird. There’s something going on with him. Did you see his hair?”

Larylis frowned. “He was wearing a hat when I saw him.”

She barked a laugh. “Of course he was. His hair has gone half white, like an aging old man, but he acts like it’s nothing. He looks unwell lately, yet he refuses to acknowledge it.”

His mind stumbled over her words. Teryn’s hair had gone half white? He was unwell? Larylis didn’t know what to think. The hat had hidden Teryn’s hair and had cast his face in shadow, so he hadn’t noticed anything too odd about his appearance. Then again, he could deem Teryn’s sudden inclination for tricorns odd enough. Not to mention that too-formal tone he’d used.

“Did he and Cora quarrel?” he asked. “That you know of, at least? Have you seen her lately?”

Her brows lowered, revealing a hint of concern. “I haven’t seen her since the day she found out she had to marry Teryn. She was worried about…about a certain conversation they needed to have before she’d feel comfortable marrying him, but I thought she’d made peace with it. I tried to see her on her wedding day, but Teryn said she’d taken to seclusion for her own protection. He said I wouldn’t be able to see her until after the peace pact was signed.”

His muscles tensed. He’d already been alarmed when she’d used the words had to marry Teryn , for that wasn’t right. Teryn had come to propose to her and fulfill the terms of the pact, but he’d never force her into something she didn’t want. That, however, wasn’t the most troubling thing she’d said. “What do you mean their wedding day?”

“They were supposedly married five days ago.”

“Why? The alliance terms should have given them a year.”

She pulled her head back. “Has no one told you?”

“Told me what?”

“Dimetreus was deemed incapable of ruling by his council. Cora was forced to take his place and ascend to queen, but the alliance agreement states she must marry Teryn for the council to accept her rule.”

A chill ran down his spine. He hadn’t heard a word of this, and Verdian hadn’t said anything either. He could understand some level of secrecy, but this…

This felt like something else.

He rose from the bed and began to pace. “You said you haven’t seen Cora in how long?”

“Six days.”

“And how long has Teryn been acting different?”

“A week at least.”

He halted in place. He still didn’t know what it meant. How could Teryn not be Teryn? And where was Cora? If she was in seclusion for her protection as Mareleau had said, then why had she sent that letter with Berol?

Another roar shattered the air, severing Larylis’ train of thought. This time, the sound was closer. It had come from the other side of the meadow, if he had to guess.

Muffled shouts of alarm followed, but far fewer than he’d expect from a full camp. A rhythmic thud like galloping hooves sped by the tent.

Then came a scream.

Larylis charged across the tent, gathering up his sword belt and strapping it around his waist. Mareleau followed after him, panic lacing her voice. “What are you doing? Where are you going?”

“To see what the seven devils is going on out there.”

She clung to the front of his shirt. “Don’t you dare leave me.”

His resolve cracked, along with his heart. But he couldn’t hide when people were screaming. When something dark and twisted was happening around him. He pulled Mareleau to his chest, pressing a kiss to her forehead. As they broke apart, he reached for his belt and unsheathed a dagger. He pressed the hilt into her palm. “Stay safe. Hide. I love you.”

She was still blinking in confusion at the dagger when he fled the tent. As soon as he stepped outside, he was nearly bowled over by a charging horse— his horse. The palfrey paid him no heed as she darted past, disappearing into the trees behind another horse. The first must have been what he’d heard galloping by. He glanced down the other side of the meadow. He expected more chaos than a few fleeing horses. At the very least, he thought others would be out to investigate the sound. But the camp was too quiet. Too empty. He saw no other horses to suggest his brother’s party had returned. And where were the guards Verdian had left behind? Who had made the muffled shouts he’d heard? Who’d screamed?

He strained his ears for the slightest sound…

Shuffling movement had him whirling to the side. He reached for his sword, unsheathing it before pointing its tip at the cluster of shadows that hovered by the nearest tent.

A whine keened from the shadows. He blinked into the night, stepping closer, and finally made out the faces of Mareleau’s three maids. Relief uncoiled the knots in his stomach. “What are you doing?” he whispered.

The three were shaking, clinging to each other. “We heard that roar,” Ann said, voice quavering. “We left our tent to go to our queen, and then…and then we saw a body.”

Hair rose on the back of his neck. “A body?”

“A guard, I think,” Ann said. “There was…blood.”

His heart beat faster, and his sword arm began to tremble. “Do you know if the hunting party returned?”

Breah shook her head. “Not even the servants have come back. Only a few of us were left behind in the first place, but we haven’t seen anyone in hours.”

Seven devils, none of this was good. He pointed at Mareleau’s pavilion and filled his voice with the command of a king. “Hide with the queen. Do not leave until I return.”

With hasty nods, they shuffled away.

Larylis proceeded forward, eyes cast over the moonlit meadow. There was no sign of the creature who had made the noise. It would have been a comfort were it not for the missing hunting party and the body Ann claimed to have seen. He crept forth along the row of tents, seeking any sign?—

A dark form was sprawled in the grass up ahead, and he suspected it was a body. He took a step forward, but the ground rocked beneath his feet.

One thud rumbled nearby. Then another. It was heavy and rhythmic like footfalls, but far too slow and deep to belong to a human or a horse. He turned in a half circle, trying to ascertain where it was coming from. It sounded like it was somewhere behind the tents. But as he faced the direction of the rumbling beat, a figure emerged from between the nearest pavilions, striding straight for him. The moon illuminated dark hair streaked with white, hollow cheeks, and a face as familiar to him as his own.

Teryn.

He stopped before Larylis. “Greetings, brother. Are you ready to join me on that hunt now?”

Mareleau’s eyes darted between the tent flap and the dagger in her hand. What was she supposed to do with a dagger? And why the hell had Larylis left her alone like this? Her legs trembled, torn between running after him and darting under the nearest piece of furniture. With the tent so sparse, the only thing she could hide under was a table.

Before she could do anything, the tent flap flew open. Her heart leaped into her throat, half with panic, half with hope, but neither danger nor salvation entered the pavilion. Instead, Ann, Breah, and Sera charged inside, uttering incoherent words as they closed in around Mareleau.

“Did you hear it?” Sera asked. “The roar?”

Now that her ladies were here, she felt some lessening of her terror. Stronger than her comfort, though, was the urge to contrast their fraying composures. She was queen. She couldn’t act like them. Without intending to, she straightened her spine and threw her shoulders back. Tightening her fingers around the hilt of her blade, she lowered the dagger to her side. “Larylis said it’s probably just a bear. There’s nothing to get worked up about.”

“Then what is that ?” Breah’s question hung in the air as a heavy thud shook the ground beneath them. With every trembling pulse, the sound drew nearer. Nearer.

“It could still be a bear,” Mareleau said, but there was less conviction in her tone. Why the seven devils should she be comforted about a bear in the first place?

The thudding was so close now, the walls of the tent rippled with every beat. It was coming from the back end of the pavilion.

The three girls crowded around Mareleau, clinging to her arms, her robe. Together they took a step back, then another. The thud stopped just behind the tent. What followed was a distinct snuffling, then something heavy rubbing against the canvas, scraping the other side of the cloth wall with an ear-splitting scratch.

Mareleau flung out the hand holding the dagger, then motioned for her ladies to retreat toward the tent flap.

They took one step back, then another, as the creature continued to rub against the back of the tent.

Something pierced the canvas, a sharp tine that protruded inside.

Sera smothered a scream behind her hand, and Mareleau had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out as well.

This creature wasn’t a bear. A stag then? That wasn’t encouraging either. Mareleau had no direct experience with any animals but her mother’s lapdogs. When they misbehaved, her mother summoned their trainers. What the hell was she to do with an angry stag?

They stepped back again, careful to keep their steps soft. Only a few feet remained between them and the tent flap. But what then? Could they run? Hide? Based on the snuffling sounds that continued, the beast had a keen sense of smell.

The tine pierced deeper through the canvas. Then, with an echo of the roar she’d heard earlier, the tent wall split as the tine tore a diagonal line across it. An enormous, misshapen head protruded through the gap, followed by paws. Hooves. The light of the lantern illuminated fur, flesh, claws, and horns, too many different characteristics to belong to a single animal.

“Run,” Mareleau whispered to the other girls. The demand was meant for her as much as them, but her legs were too wobbly to move. Her hand remained thrust before her, but the dagger looked more like a toy in the presence of her terrifying foe.

Anxiety crawled up her throat, tightening her chest, but it ignited something else inside her too—the same fierce protectiveness she’d felt when she’d confessed the truth to Larylis. It didn’t shrink her fear, but it settled beside it, bolstering her legs, her arms. Her fingers closed tighter around the hilt of the dagger.

“Run!” she said again, her voice a shout, and this time her body and her ladies listened. They stumbled through the tent flap and darted toward the other side of the meadow. Breah was fastest, sprinting several feet ahead, but Ann and Sera trailed behind, sobbing with every uneven step. Mareleau glanced over her shoulder in time to see Sera fall. Ann reached for her, hauling her to her feet, but an immense shadow closed in behind, backlit by a sudden leap of flames. The tent lay in tatters and was now being consumed by what must be the remnants of a smashed lantern.

The beast bounded for Ann and Sera, who were still struggling to gain purchase and run. Mareleau glanced at Breah, who was almost to the other end of the meadow now, then back at the two girls. Without a second thought, she bared her teeth and rushed to her ladies, pulling them to their feet with her free hand. With her other, she flourished the dagger at the oncoming beast. Her heart hammered so loud, it drowned out its thundering steps, its roar. She was only aware of the heat of its breath as it closed in on them.

Ann and Sera finally managed to start running again, and she shoved them before her, away from the beast. She kicked up her feet, lifted the hem of her robe, and darted after them.

A flash of fur and flesh skidded before her, blocking her retreat. She thrust out the dagger again, leaping back.

The monster faced her, mouth gaping to reveal unnaturally sharp teeth. She lifted her face, taking in the sight of the creature clearly for the first time. It was larger than a carriage with clawed front paws contrasting rear hooves. Its boarlike snout was framed with tusks. A pair of overlarge antlers sprouted from its head. Its rear ended in a bushy wolflike tail.

But its eyes.

Above its massive snout, it had four sets of eyes from four human faces, skin pulled taut over what should have been the creature’s upper skull. Each face was linked to the next, skin fused with what looked like scar tissue, then melting into the more animalistic features—the boar snout, the stag head, the bear neck.

The monster shifted to the side, pinning one distinct pair of eyes on her.

Her breath caught in her throat. The dagger slid from her grip and fell into the grass at her feet.

She knew this gaze, with irises as blue as her own. Eyes lined with creases she’d watched deepen over the years. A brow constantly furrowed in either anger or frustration whenever she was in its presence.

Bile simmered in her gut.

She forced her attention away from the face, but there was nowhere else to look but at these four terrifying visages.

Uncle Ulrich.

Uncle Kevan.

King Dimetreus.

And the one that continued to look at her with its eerie, lifeless stare.

A word left her lips in a cry. “Father.”