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T eryn swallowed hard, feeling as if his throat had turned to sand. His heart hammered against his ribs like it would break free from his chest at any moment. He didn’t dare blink. Didn’t dare move a muscle as he waited for the unicorn to dart away.

It didn’t.

It simply stared back at him, its russet eyes penetrating, probing. That was when Teryn remembered the spear in his hand. And the reason he held it.

Not the reason he’d come to the stream, but what had prompted his practice earlier that morning.

This enormous, impossible creature was the very reason Teryn was in these woods. This was his prey.

Sweat slicked his palms. His forearms felt stiff, as if they were rebelling against the command Teryn was trying to give. Lift. Throw. Kill . That was what he’d come here to do. With one throw, straight to the lungs or heart, he could win two of Mareleau’s prizes. The horn. The pelt. After that, only one live unicorn to serve as the princess’ pet would stand between him and victory. He tried to feel emboldened by the thought, but his stomach only clenched tighter. Revulsion crawled up his spine, prickling his skin like tiny knives. He’d hunted before. He was no stranger to killing an animal. But, for some reason, this felt different. Wrong.

Damn it , he cursed silently to himself. You must do this. You cannot fail now, you sorry fool. Lift. Throw. Kill. Done.

Steadying his nerves, he took three deep breaths, then slowly angled his body to the side. He paused, waiting to see if the movement would set the creature fleeing. Instead, it took another step closer. There was something defiant in its posture now, the way it lowered its head, the way its lips began to lift from its teeth. Teryn saw its horn in a different light. This wasn’t simply a pretty faerytale decoration. It was a razor-sharp weapon. If Teryn missed, he’d be on the receiving end of that horn. Feeling a greater sense of urgency, Teryn lifted the spear. The unicorn stepped forward again, lips flapping with angry breaths. Teryn’s muscles tensed. Sweat dripped down his forehead and into his eyes. Another wave of revulsion swept over him, sending his stomach churning. He knew what needed to be done but his body wouldn't respond. Nor would his heart.

Throw, damn it! Throw!

He lowered his arm the briefest increment, not toward the creature but…down.

A sharp pain seared the side of his neck. He flinched back and slapped his palm to the sting. The unicorn hadn’t moved, hadn’t charged, and yet something wet and warm dripped down Teryn’s neck. From the corner of his eye, he could see an arrow protruding from the cherry tree a few yards behind him. Someone had shot at him. Before he could fully register what that meant, he felt the cold tip of a blade press against the underside of his jaw. Without moving, he glanced to the side, but only caught sight of an arm.

“Who are you?” The voice was quavering with rage, and…feminine.

Teryn slowly opened his palm, letting his spear drop at his feet. Then, raising both hands, he carefully shifted to face his opponent. His eyes widened as his gaze took in a petite young woman dressed in a linen shift and unlaced bodice, her skirt tucked between her legs and into a leather belt to form something like pants. She had a quiver of arrows at her back and a bow slung over one shoulder. Her hair was sodden, trailing rivulets down her tan arms—arms that bore black ink from palm to inner elbow.

“Got your fill or would you like to paint my portrait too?” She tapped the underside of his chin with her blade, forcing his gaze back to her face. Her cheeks were tinged pink as if his assessment had embarrassed her. Or enraged her, more like. She scowled. There was something familiar about her dark eyes, but he couldn’t place why. Perhaps it was just that she was so unexpectedly stunning. In a wild and terrifying sort of way. Like a wildfire. He had no doubt she was equally as dangerous. “I said who are you?”

“You don’t know me?” Too late, he realized the folly of his question. While he expected his face to be well known in his own kingdom, this was Khero. Besides, he didn’t quite exude royalty in his current state.

She lifted her chin. “Why should I?”

He assessed her again, studying her grip on the dagger. Her height. Her reach. She was shorter than him by at least a foot. Even though she appeared comfortable enough wielding a blade, his reach was far greater.

She stepped in closer, angling the blade so its edge kissed the skin at the base of his throat. “Answer my question. Who are you?”

“My name is Teryn Alante,” he said, keeping his voice level.

She gave no indication she recognized his name. “You hunt unicorns.”

He hesitated before answering, which earned him a sharp bite from the dagger’s edge. “Yes.”

Her eyes roved the side of his neck, then inspected his hunting vest, as if she were searching for…something. Her expression flickered with confusion before she steeled it behind an icy mask. “Who do you work for?”

Teryn frowned. “No one.”

“Who sent you to hunt unicorns, then?”

“A spoiled harpy named Princess Mareleau. Do you know her?”

Another flash of confusion crossed the girl’s face. Her grip on the dagger slackened, and he took the opportunity to launch a step back. Before she could react, he struck her wrist and twisted it, forcing her to drop the blade. She unsheathed a smaller knife from her belt and slashed out at him. Her blade sliced his forearm, but he closed in on her anyway. Taking her free hand, he twisted her arm at an angle, wrenching it behind her back and spinning her around until she faced away from him. He tugged her arm close to his chest while she continued to try and slash him with her knife.

“Will you stop trying to stab me?” he growled. As she suddenly froze against him, he realized how close his lips were to her ear. He angled his face away from her, caught off guard by that realization.

“No,” she said with a grunt and slammed her heel into his instep. He winced but didn’t release her. She tried to stomp on him again, but he widened his stance and hooked a foot around her ankle. Her balance gave way, and he assisted her fall to the ground. He pinned her knife hand overhead to keep the weapon’s tip from his face.

“Mind telling me why you’re accosting a prince?” he said through his teeth as he finally pried the knife from her fingers and tossed it a few feet away.

“Like I care about pretty princes.” She lifted her head and slammed it into his nose.

“Seven devils,” he cursed, feeling blood streaming over his lips. He sprang back, hand to his nose. She brought the heel of her palm to his sternum and sent him falling on his back. He rolled onto his side, felt his hand come around the shaft of his spear. Rising to his feet, he swept his weapon out in an arc, then lifted it in preparation to throw. His eyes were glazed from the pain of his probably broken nose. It took a moment for his vision to clear. When it did, he found the woman several paces away, bow drawn, arrow nocked.

Their eyes locked, weapons still. Her chest heaved above her bodice while his rose and fell beneath his vest. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” he bit out.

“Perhaps not, but you tried to kill my friend.”

“Friend?” Realization dawned as he remembered what had happened before the woman had attacked him. “Wait, the unicorn? That’s your…friend?” He saw no sign of it now, nor had he any time during their fight.

“How many unicorns have you killed?” she asked.

“None.”

“But you were going to kill Valorre.”

Valorre . Was that its name? Was this unicorn not a wild creature but a…pet? Teryn recalled Helios’ bewilderment over the tracks they’d found. They’d appeared alongside a small set of footprints—this woman’s footprints. Not a boy’s.

Teryn’s spear arm was starting to ache from holding his position. He needed to de-escalate this situation. Quickly. Gritting his teeth, he said, “I’m sorry I tried to kill your friend.”

“Sorry isn’t enough. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you where you stand.”

“If you missed the part where I said I was a prince, then you may not have noticed the spear aimed at your heart either. So allow me to point it out.”

“I can shoot faster than you can throw.”

“Want to test that theory? Even if your arrow struck true, you’d have the entire Kingdom of Menah hunting you down in recompense.”

“Only if you lived to tell about it.”

“And only if you survived a spear wound to your most vital organ.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Lower your weapon and I’ll lower mine.”

“Not a chance,” Teryn said. “I’ll stop waltzing when you stop leading. Lower your bow.”

“Count of three, and we both lower our weapons. One. Two. Three.”

Neither of them moved.

She released a frustrated groan. “I’ll lower my bow if you promise me this. Never come near a unicorn again. If you do, I will kill you. I will not spare your life twice, prince or no.”

Teryn almost opened his mouth to make that promise and mean it with his whole heart. He remembered how he’d stood frozen when finally faced with killing his prey. Every inch of his body had rebelled at doing what needed to be done. It was a worrying prospect, but one he didn’t have time to address right now. All that mattered was getting on his attacker’s better side. “I promise,” he said. The words sent something like relief through his body, even as his mind screamed that the vow was a lie. He still had to win the Heart’s Hunt.

She kept her arrow trained on him for several more breaths, then finally let it down. Teryn did the same. Neither severed their gaze.

“I’m going to fetch my things now,” she said, tilting her head toward the weapons that littered the ground between them.

“Go ahead,” Teryn said. They watched each other warily as she stomped over to her dagger, then her knife, sheathing them before striding to the cherry tree. She tugged her arrow from its trunk. Teryn’s hand went reflexively to his neck where the blood was already beginning to dry. Had she shot an inch to the left, he might have been dead. “Nice aim,” he said.

She tucked the arrow into her quiver and burned him with a glare. “I missed.”

His lips curled into a smirk as he watched her walk away. Only when she was out of sight did he let himself skulk over to the tree and lean against its trunk, catching his breath while he pondered the notion that he just escaped death at the hands of a rather frightening girl. He brought a palm to his chest, finding the front of his shirt wet. It must have gotten damp from her sodden hair when he’d pulled her against him. Proof that he hadn’t just hallucinated the strange confrontation.

He flinched as one of the boughs trembled overhead. “Berol,” he said with a relieved sigh. “You chose the absolute least helpful time to show up. I could have used you a minute ago.”

The falcon quirked her head from the branch above.

“You’re right. I look a mess.” He wiped the skin beneath his nose, finding sticky blood on the back of his palm. With a groan, he pushed off from the tree and headed back the way he’d come from. Berol launched off the tree and landed on his shoulder. He sighed. “Let’s hope we don’t run into her ever again.”