I serve the Wild Hunt. I work alone. And neither of those things is going to change.
Serving the Wild Hunt has made up the majority of my undead life, and I have never before felt the urge to truly disobey one of the Huntsman’s orders. But when he comes to me, commanding me to watch over London’s vampire crai, I find myself strangely resistant to his plan.
This crai is overwhelmed and overworked and not at all the kind of vampire I want to get to know. His new suits might chafe, but he is nowhere near wild enough for me.
Until he reveals all the dark urges he’s been hiding. Until we find ourselves trying to track down a dangerous high fae, and placate a vengeful vampire, and I realise at some point, somehow, Njáll’s wellbeing has become… important to me.
I know how disobeying the Huntsman will end. He takes back his blessing, and I lose the one part of myself that makes me feel truly alive.
I serve the Hunt.
But perhaps I can still serve Njáll, too.
I serve the Wild Hunt. I cannot disobey. I fear the consequences if I do.
Joining the Wild Hunt was a simple choice, if not an easy one, and not one that I truly regret. Now, on the hunt for high fae twins who are known for the mischief they cause, I see no reason to do anything but serve in the same way I always have.
That is, up until my path crosses with his. Quinn. He has fallen in with the twins, fallen far too deep, and though the fights he participates in may help him work through his anger and fear and grief, I cannot help the ominous feeling that whatever deal he has struck will only end poorly.
I should not care. Quinn is simply another wolf, young and vulnerable, one from whom I should keep my distance.
But instincts run deep, and my need to care for this pup runs even deeper than that. He may be everything I have not allowed myself to hope for, but to realise that dream, I truly must risk all that I am.
What choice will I make when his bargain is broken?
What will I sacrifice to save him?