A Court of Blood and Desire

Chapter 1

4 months before

Elysandra POV

The arrow flew from my bowstring and straight into the eye of the deer, killing it in a single shot. Years ago, I would've been proud of that shot. Now I was only hungry and desperate. I flexed my fingers; I'd been sitting in the same position for three hours and even wearing gloves the bow dug into my hands.

I jumped down from the sickly tree I had been perched in and went over to examine the deer. The ground was slick beneath my feet as I pulled my hunting cloak tighter around my body. Even after years in the Winter Court and hiding out in the human lands, there seemed to be no colder place than Illyria. Especially since I couldn't afford the risk of buying proper clothes, instead choosing to swipe a few items every time I came across anybody stupid enough to be camping around here in the first place.

It was the middle of winter, and each day seemed to get colder and colder, the sun hidden permanently behind clouds of grey and black. Halfway through storm season, and I had nearly forgotten what it was like to have warm feet and hands and not have to wipe my nose every five seconds. Locking myself up in a remote cabin was becoming more and more appealing, but staying in once place for too long would be certain death. Still, a hot bath might just be worth it.

I nudged the carcass with my boot. This deer was young, and still had meat on its bones, unlike some of the others I had caught. They were becoming rarer and rarer, despite spring being only two months ago. Deer tracks disappeared in the storms, and were impossible to find again. But still, there was a sharp decline in food and game since I was last in this damned forest. Granted, that was five hundred years ago, but to go from coming across multiple herds a day to only finding one every two weeks was concerning. I wasn't the only one who was struggling- the campers I had raided usually had scarce more food than myself.

I needed to get out of here, to break that fool's bargain. I should've just died, I thought to myself bitterly, examining my kill. Compared to spending another year trapped in the Illyrian mountains, death was starting to seem like a small mercy then a curse.

I was halfway through skinning its body when the air shifted.

The temperature dropped and the sky seemed to darken, despite it being mid afternoon. My grip tightened on my hunting dagger as I stood up, listening for danger.

Shadows snaked their way towards me, and I could feel the touch of something ancient and cold on my neck. I held my breath hoping that the sun had simply been covered by a cloud, that it was just my overreactive imagination. That he had forgotten about me. My traitorous heart tripled its pace.

Pathetic. A year ago those shadows would be running for their lives at the mere sight of me. How the mighty had fallen, I thought bitterly. 

There was blood dripping down the dagger, and I hoped whoever was in the forest could see it. See what would become of them if they stepped into the clearing. My siphons glowed in agreement. 

I could feel it coming, something that did not belong here. I gritted my teeth, because it was all going to end right here at the base of some nothing mountain armed with nothing but my hunting dagger and a bow and my wings flared and-

A loud crashing noise came from my left, followed by laugher. Faint music and the sound of someone being violently sick. I collapsed against a nearby tree. Illyrians. I told myself. Only a bunch of young, naive Illyrians having a party and drinking their night away. It was ok, I was ok, I was safe. I could've fainted with relief. 

The shadows had skittered off from wherever they had come from, and the sun was shining once more. Nothing had happened. I took a deep breath, righting myself. I hadn't stayed alive for seven hundred years just to faint over some measly shadows. I wasn't that weak, not anymore. I gave the trees one last glare before throwing the deer carcass over my shoulder and shooting into the sky. 

Just Illyrains.

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After some digging and a lot of swearing, I had managed to find some dry wood and drag the deer back to a cave I had found two days earlier. The cave was dug out from the side of a mountain, and fittingly already had blood stains, bones and a pile of broken faebane chains. Considering everything, I was right at home.

Granted, the place reeked of Hybern and some sort of dark power, but the scent was old, musty. A year old, maybe more. Cute. Maybe it was once used as a torture chamber. Maybe it was a training area. Maybe it was a place where soldiers went if they were feeling kinky. Either way, I couldn't care less. As long as I had a roof over my head, food in my stomach and enough weapons to arm a small legion, I was happy.

I had placed Wyrdmarks around the entrance to the cave, a small trick I'd picked up over my travels. Nobody would be getting in without one hell of a fight. And would get another one when they stepped inside. Remarkably useful, although I had been accused of being a witch numerous times. Although, I highly doubted I was being accused as one with iron nails and teeth with a diet of human blood. People grew dull with old age.

Instead of iron claws- which I was highly jealous of, they would make life so much easier-my Illyrian blade was tucked safely underneath my body, ready to use at a moments notice. It was a beautiful sword, one that had belonged to my son, given to him by my father who's own gave it to him. I'd pried it from my his dead body before anyone could remember he had it. Not as good as iron nails, but it was a close second.

I traced the moon- and- vine pattern engraved on the hilt. Tiny multicoloured gems were artfully woven into the design, shimmering in the firelight. Passed down through the male line for centuries, it was slightly ironic that it was me who ended up with it. Mainly because they were all dead, with only a few distant cousins that escaped the Cauldron during the war. The only thing I had left to remember them by- bar my scars-; the only thing that still tied me to the Illyrians. I should've tossed it in the ocean centuries ago and forgotten about it, but I was attached. It was a  beautiful symbol, and the image of father rolling in his grave at the sight allowed me to sleep better at night.

The dying fire crackled and I curled up closer towards it. My sleeping bag was hardly made for the Illyrian Mountains and using my pack as a pillow was as uncomfortable as it sounds. The stone floor was colder than ice, even through my bag, and I hissed as my head slipped off my pack and onto the freezing ground. The fire cast strange shadows along the stone walls and my siphons- five glowing stones of blood red- that were strung onto a wire around my neck thrummed with power.

They were, of course, stolen, as those bastards of Illyrian males refused to give females even a scrap of recognition. My first and only planned attack since I'd been forced into this Cauldron- forsaken Court. Setting on a routine patrol was no easy task, but I limped away with only a few broken ribs and pockets filled with siphons. Never underestimate the power of being a female was the first rule to surviving in the mountains alone. The Illyrians would either ignore you and pass off the threat or try to rape you. Neither option worked well for them in the end.

The High Lord had 'tried' to change their ways, but from what I've seen, he hasn't done shit. Two or three camps, maybe, but Lord Devon, according to my father, is a soft, spineless prick that should've died in the war five hundred years ago. For once, I was inclined to agree with him.

Wing clipping was still more common than not, and my own wings were proof of that. Luckily, my father had been absolutely drunk when he had done it and didn't bother to make sure the cuts set wrong. He staggered out before he could watch me sew my own wings back together. As far as he was concerned, I was as harmless as a flightless bird. I was glad that house burned to the ground a long time ago.

Maybe that was why I had joined Hybern all those years ago. So I could repay old debts thought forgotten. So I could finally be in control of my life, to seek revenge even when I didn't know I was chasing it.

And that was why I had to escape all those years ago. The Night Court wasn't the place for me, no matter how hard I tried. I didn't belong here. I was stronger, older than most of the faeries dwelling in these mountains, and my presence felt like a dark cloud in the Summer Court.

Then why are you even here? The traitorous voice in the back of my head whispered. Why not just end it once and for all?

I turned in my bag and glared at the cave wall until I fell into a fitful sleep.