Book Excerpt -Heart of the Hunted by T.L. THORNE
Something bad was about to happen.
I opened my mouth to shout a warning, but before I can, a dark, looming creature barreled from the forest undergrowth and launched itself at the large man. When the man’s eyes finally reached the huge wolf descending on him, it was too late. The wolf leaped, pinning him against a tree. Its teeth were at the man's throat, tearing out his life, all in a matter of a heartbeat. I had barely taken a breath. It had happened all so fast.
Sometimes in life, you are presented with a decision. One that is so precedented, so split second, that you have no time to think ahead or behind. A decision so paramount to the moment, so present, that it stopped time. A decision that affects everything. That affects the fabric of the world entirely.
This was that time. That moment. That decision was mine to make.
I sucked in a calming breath and shakily pushed it out, then released the arrow I wasn’t even aware I had nocked. It struck true through the demon wolf’s heart, stopping the animal’s attack. Its body went slack against the man, sending them both tumbling to the forest floor. Despite the man’s menacing approach, and the dark magic I’d felt whisper against me that I couldn’t be sure was the wolf, the man, or a mixture of the two, I had saved him. At least for the moment. He could still die from the inflicted wounds.
A shiver rushed through me that felt more like dread than adrenaline. I had the disturbing feeling that by saving this man, I had done something I knew nothing about, nor would understand if I did. A swing of fate intervention that shattered my soul, but I didn’t have time to think about it now.
I rushed to the man’s side and pulled the massive wolf off him. Blood leaked to the forest floor, both black and red twined together and sunk into the soil. The wolf had patches of fur at its neck, but most of its hide was smooth and warm. The beast was nearly double the size of a normal wolf, and all black, with depthless, lackluster eyes. I tried not to think of the animal of the Underworld, as I looked up the man’s broad chest, over the ruined flesh of his throat, to his face. The hood had fallen off, and his startling misty blue eyes were on mine. He had a strong jawline and dark blond hair now speckled with blood. He seemed serene in the face of death.
I shuddered. This was a man who dealt with death head-on without concern. Being on its threshold did not consume him with fear as it would most others. As it would have done to me.
He was dangerous—even more so than the demon wolf. So, who was he?
I held my dagger casually in my hand so I could discover how close to death he was. With the blood and strip of ruined flesh at his throat, it was hard to tell if the wolf had gotten an artery, but I was relatively sure it had not. What a lucky bastard.
“Who in the Under realm are you?” The tremble in my voice took away a fraction of the threat.
I would have to let my blade do the talking my voice could not.
“No one,” he choked out against the gargle of blood.
I snarled in annoyance. “Are you one of the assholes that attacked us in Cashore?”
His brow twitched. What that meant I didn’t know, but it didn’t seem to secure guilt.
“I am not.” He shifted, and blood ran more freely.
I knew if I didn’t get him to a healer, he may die. Saving him could have been futile, but I wanted to make sure the prick wasn’t going to just kill me when he got the chance.
“Who are you?”
A moment ticked by with no response. I’m sure talking wasn’t going to be easy for the man, but I needed to know.
“You will die here and now if you do not answer me truthfully.”
The man swallowed, his throat bobbed around the angry teeth marks that covered his neck and chest. “I am the Queen’s Huntsman.”
Like what you’ve read? You can purchase the book HERE