Page 43 of The Midnight Death Match
“Why do they even care? I can’t be all that different from the hunters before me, except that I’m female.”
Lys leans against the wall. “That makesallthe difference.”
“How?”
“Feminine energy is something altogether unique. What you’re able to bring to the table as a huntress will change everything. Then there’s the fact that you’re part of the Secret Keeper line.”
“What do you know about that? My mother didn’t tell me anything.”
I shouldn’t have told him that. What if it leaves me vulnerable? If he and others know I don’t know what it means, they could use it against me.
Lys doesn’t appear to delight in this news that could be used for my harm. If anything, he looks a little bored by it. “That’s the way of the Secret Keeper. They never speak a word about what they know, not even to the next in line. It keeps everything… secret.”
A sense of relief washes through me. My mother wasn’t holding out on me for any other reason than she had to. If she could have, she would’ve told me. “So that’s just the way of the line?”
“To my understanding.”
The words settle into the night like an old truth finally spoken aloud.
I need time to process everything, so I change the subject. “You know what this place was before.”
“Right.”
“Tell me what you know.”
“How much?” He cocks a brow.
“All of it.”
He watches me carefully. “Are you sure you’re ready to hear it?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s a lot, especially for someone so new to the fae world.”
I hesitate. “I want to understand. Actually, Ineedto.”
“Then listen.” He takes another step closer, lowering his voice to something intimate and heavy. Like a secret only for me. “The hunter curse was not born from fae hands alone, Eira. Your bloodline was forged in rebellion—not purity.”
“Rebellion?”
“Long before you,” Lys continues, “there was a pact. A desperate gamble made by your ancestors and Harek’s alike. The werewolf packs and their witch allies rebelled against a fae tyrant who ruled these lands with cruelty. They wanted to create a weapon—a hunter who could end him.”
“A weapon strong enough to kill fae,” I whisper.
“Power that great always demands balance… and blood. They didn’t understand what they were binding. Or perhaps they didn’t care.” His voice lowers. “The result wasn’t a champion, but a blade cursed to feed on its own lineage.”
The truth strikes like a cold sword against my spine.
“They created it all.” My voice shakes. “The hunter line, the curses.”
“And your werewolf pack.” Lys nods. “They twisted what should’ve been shared into something that could only be inherited through death.” He lifts his hand briefly, gesturing toward me. “And you’re the convergence of that broken oath.”
The weight of it presses into my chest. Harek’s and my family were woven into this curse together from the start.
Lys watches me absorb it. “You aren’t a victim of fate, Eira. You are its evolution.”
I stare at him, heart pounding, the weight of his words heavy in my chest. Since my mother died, I’ve been afraid of what I am.Afraid of what the curse might take from me and what it might make me do.
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