The Siege of Shadows: Book one

The Wild Hunt (25)

The Kelpie's hooves thundered against the frosted earth, its wild, otherworldly energy coursing through every powerful stride. The thick fog swirled around us, mingling with the haunting echoes of the eerie music that now seemed to pulse with a sinister rhythm. Every time the Wild Hunt's cries pierced the air, I felt the vibration of it travel through the beast beneath me—and through Theros, who sat rigid behind me, every muscle in his body coiled like a predator ready to strike.

"Faster," he commanded, his voice cutting through the cacophony of the Hunt's approach. The Kelpie obeyed with a surge of speed that nearly sent me tumbling again, but Theros's arm came around me, firm and unyielding, pulling me back against his chest.

"Let go of me!" I snapped, but my voice trembled.

His reply was a low growl. "Would you rather fall and face them alone?"

The question hit like a slap, sharp and undeniable. I clamped my jaw shut, hating the truth of it. No matter how much I despised the man behind me, I knew he was the only thing standing between me and a fate far worse than death.

The twisted melody of the Hunt grew louder, a discordant blend of pipes and horns that made my skin crawl. Shadows flickered in the fog—hulking, distorted forms that defied reason. I caught glimpses of glowing eyes, sharp claws, and monstrous shapes that seemed to shift and blur as they moved. The Wild Hunt was closing in.

"How do we stop them?" I asked, my voice tight.

"We don't." Theros's tone was grim. "You don't stop the Hunt. You only outrun it."

Outrun it. The words made my stomach churn. How could anyone outrun something so relentless, so primal? My fingers tightened around the Kelpie's mane, the coarse strands biting into my palms.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" I said bitterly, the accusation spilling out before I could stop myself.

He didn't answer right away. The only sound was the Kelpie's heavy breaths and the pounding of its hooves.

"Yes," he said finally, his voice quieter, almost resigned.

The single word sent a shiver through me. There was something in his tone—something that hinted at more than just experience. It was guilt, maybe, or regret. I didn't know, and I didn't have the time or courage to pry.

"How far to safety?" I pressed instead, glancing over my shoulder at him. His helmet gleamed faintly in the dim light, the horns curving wickedly above his head like some dark omen.

Theros's eyes met mine briefly, their crimson glow steady but unreadable. "That depends on whether the Crossroads favors us tonight."

Before I could ask what he meant, a piercing cry split the air, so sharp and otherworldly that I flinched. The Kelpie faltered for just a moment, and in that heartbeat, one of the Hunt's creatures emerged from the fog, lunging toward us.

It was massive, a thing of shadows and bone, its gaping maw lined with teeth that glistened like black glass. My breath caught, and I clutched the mane tighter, bracing for the impact.

But Theros moved with lethal precision. One hand still on the reins, he drew his blade with the other—a wicked, curved weapon that shimmered with dark energy. With a single, fluid motion, he struck out, severing the creature's head. It dissolved into ash before it hit the ground.

The Kelpie surged forward again, spurred by Theros's sharp command. My heart hammered in my chest as I twisted back around, pressing closer to the saddle to avoid slipping again.

"You've done this before too," I muttered, more to myself than to him.

"What?" he asked, his voice rough but steady.