Forsaken by the one person who was supposed to love her unconditionally, Red must brave the magic and monsters of the Wylds to find her true place in the world.
*****
Plague...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
After what felt like an eternity, Hunter's violent struggles eased into fine tremors that rippled across his skin, like a gentle breeze stirring a calm pond. His gaze stayed vacant, but the wretched sobbing that had turned Sebastian's stomach gradually gave way to quiet, hitching breaths, punctuated by barely audible mutterings that Sebastian thought sounded vaguely like the words: I'm sorry.
Agony. It was the only word to describe what he must have been experiencing, what Red must have been experiencing. And if Hunter reduced to this state after merely tasting her pain... Sebastian's mouth went dry.
"On three?" Bradon asked, meeting Sebastian's eyes over Hunter's lolling head. The youth's face was still full of malice that reflected his own, but they'd both set aside their personal grievances the moment Hunter started trying to rip his own heart out of his chest. It had taken all of their combined strength to pin the rambling bastard down. The cut on Sebastian's cheek still smarted from the stray claw that caught him in the process, but it was nothing in comparison to the ragged scratches all down Hunter's front.
"On three," Sebastian confirmed, counting silently in his head.
In perfect unison, the enemies-turned-caretakers relinquished their bruising grip on Hunter's wrists, letting him relax back into spider-silk flooring. A whiff of smoke curled into his nostrils, and Sebastian frowned at the angry red blisters on Hunter's left temple, at a loss to understand how he'd managed to burn himself.
"What now?" Bradon asked, when Hunter showed no sign of recovering his former wits. "I'm going to assume Red, well, you know." He drew a finger across his throat and pulled a face. "Carked it."
"Shut up," Sebastian snapped, refusing the entertain the notion. "She'll just have to hold tight until we can find the entrance. Blasting the earth open isn't an option."
And neither was standing around. Sebastian made to stand, but a hand clamped down on his wrist, unyielding as the bewitched steel his arrowheads were made from.
"No," Hunter said gruffly, grey eyes locking onto his own. "It'll be suicide, and for no good reason. Bradon is right. Red..."
The man swallowed hard, mouth wobbling and eyes fixing on something in the distance as he tried to recover his composure.
"Don't be naive," Sebastian said, yanking his arm free. "She's survived against worse odds than this. We just have to find her."
"She's dead, brother." The voice that came out of Hunter's mouth belonged to a man fifty years his senior. "I felt it in the bond."
Sebastian searched his face long and hard, looking for the tell that would give away his lie. It had to be a trick, to throw him off the scent so that Hunter could whisk her away without a fight.
But his expression was hauntingly earnest. "Check again," Sebastian growled, fingers clenching into fists.
Hunter's nostrils flared at the accusation. "There's nothing left to check. The Weavers killed her."
