Was Ash as fascinated with Veses’ hair as he so often appeared to be with mine? I imagined he would be. Her curls were thick and bouncy and didn’t resemble a nest of tangles.

“I’m the worst,” I muttered, rolling my eyes as I lowered my hand and drifted forward.

I shouldn’t be surprised that he was expressing his interest in that office with Veses. I’d obviously been wrong in my perception of what he’d said about his experience. The way he’d kissed and touched me should’ve been enough evidence that he had quite a bit of skill—skill I was betting Veses also knew all too well. My lip curled—

A shrill shriek of pain stopped me dead in my tracks. I looked up as something winged and silver crashed through the red leaves, plummeting to the ground with a heavy thud. A hawk. It was a large, silver hawk. Another swooped down from above, veering off when it spotted me. I didn’t even know these types of hawks were in Iliseeum, let alone the Shadowlands. I’d only ever caught rare glimpses of them circling the very tips of the Dark Elms.

With wide eyes, I watched the hawk try to lift a clearly broken wing. Red streaked its throat and belly as it flailed on the gray grass. It squawked pitifully, dark talons thrashing and digging into the soil.

What was it with wounded animals and me? How did I always—?

Warmth pulsed in my chest, sudden and intense. The tingling rush of eather flooding my veins followed, stunning me. It was very much like when I was around something that’d died, but this hawk…it was still alive.

Confused, I looked down at my hands as a faint aura appeared, the light flickering softly between my fingers and over my skin. It was just like when I touched Marisol.

But Marisol had been dead.

“What the hell?” I looked over at the hawk as my chest throbbed, and this…urge swept through me. A demand that hummed, driving me forward. I was kneeling beside the hawk before I realized what I was doing. The whites of its eyes were stark as its wild gaze rolled from the sky to me.

The hawk stilled. I knew it was still alive, even though I couldn’t tell if it breathed. It was the gift. It knew. Somehow, I knew the hawk still lived, even though it didn’t strike with talons that could easily tear into my flesh.

Static danced over my hands as the heat gathered in my palms. I didn’t know what was happening, nor did I understand this powerful instinct, but it felt old. Ancient. Just like that dark and oily feeling had when I’d been forced to my knees in front of the statue of Kolis and stared at Tavius. It was undeniable, and there was nothing I could do but obey. I placed a hand on the exposed belly of the hawk, hoping that it remained still.

The hum flared intensely in my chest, and the light around my hands brightened for a heartbeat before the glow swept over the hawk and onto the soil, sparking and crackling as it seeped into and crawled across the ground.

I sucked in a stuttered breath as the hawk twitched, emitting a sharp cry. Panic crowded the edges of my mind. I couldn’t see the hawk under the glow. What if I had done something wrong? What if I killed the bird? If I did, I would never touch another thing—

A coarse, heavy wing straightened and swept down, brushing over my hand. Startled, I jerked back my arm and fell on my ass. The aura receded, and the hawk…

It stood, tentatively lifting both wings. The hawk’s wingspan was enormous, and I thought of the old stories Odetta had told me about these types of birds of prey. How they could pick up small animals and even children. I hadn’t believed her.

Seeing one this close, I now did.

The hawk’s head swiveled toward me. I ensured I made no sudden movements as it eyed me with flat, black eyes full of intelligence. The hawk chirped softly, a staggering call that reminded me of what the draken had done.

Then it took flight.

And I remained there, on my ass, absolutely dumbfounded. My touch… It healed? It had never done that before, but I also hadn’t tried. My stunned gaze fell to my hands as that heady warmth trickled through me, easing the tension in my neck and shoulders. Was my gift changing? Evolving? I didn’t think it had always been like that because I’d been around wounded animals and people before. I hadn’t felt like this when Tavius had been whipping his horse and I intervened, but I could…sense that it still lived. Just like I could sense when something had passed. And what about Odetta? My gift had come alive while she had been sleeping. I had chalked it up to fear igniting it, but maybe I had been wrong. Perhaps my gift had been urging me to heal her? I lowered my hands to the grass, curling them—

The grass.

I looked down. The grass was gray like…like the Rot but soft. I inhaled deeply, recognizing the stale scent of lilacs. My gaze rose, traveling over the thin, wispy weeds that ran along the floor of the Red Woods. The memory of the trees I’d seen when I first entered the Shadowlands formed in my mind. The Dying Woods. Their branches had been gnarled and leafless, and the bark was also gray, a deeper shade of steel, just like these.

Just like those in Lasania infected by the Rot.

“Shit,” I whispered.

How had I not noticed that until now? Was this the Rot? A possible consequence of the deal not being fulfilled? Or was this something else?

A twig snapped, and immediately, I knew it wasn’t Ash or any of his guards. None of them would’ve made a sound. Another crack came, and the smell of stale flowers intensified.

My hand went to where the dagger was sheathed to my thigh as I pushed off the ground and turned around.

The space between the red-leafed trees didn’t look right. I squinted. The shadows there…they were thicker, and they moved forward into the fractured beams of starlight. Dark pants. Waxy skin. Bare skulls and mouths stretched too wide yet stitched closed.

I recognized them immediately.

Hunters.

Chapter 29

My stomach lurched as I darted under a low-hanging, thickly leafed branch. I remained under the limb, hoping they hadn’t seen me, and quickly counted. Five of them. Gods. I stayed completely still as they drifted forward in a vee formation.

What were they doing in the Shadowlands?

Ash had insinuated that they’d been in the mortal realm looking for him. Were they searching for him again? Obviously, they’d found him, but why would they be here?

I made sure I made no sound as I unsheathed the shadowstone dagger. I didn’t want to draw their attention since I never wanted to see their mouths split open ever again.

Reminding myself that Ash had struck against them first, there was a good chance they would keep going even if they had seen me. Not even daring to take a too-deep breath, I watched them move closer. Keep going. Just keep on creepily walking—

The closest Hunter’s head snapped in my direction. The others stopped in unison and turned toward me.

“Shit,” I whispered, straightening. The Hunter who stopped first tilted its head. “Hi…?”

The other four cocked their heads.

“I’m just out for a…stroll,” I continued, grip tightening on the branch. “That’s all. You do whatever it is that you all are doing and—”

The first Hunter stepped forward, reaching for the hilt of the sword strapped across his back. Dammit.

I yanked the limb back and then let go. The branch snapped forward, smacking the Hunter in the face. Staggering back, the creature let out a muffled grunt. I didn’t waste a second. Not after knowing what could come out of the thing’s mouth. I recalled Ash’s instructions. Head or heart. I went for the heart because I didn’t want to be anywhere near that mouth. I darted out from under the branches. Or tried to. My foot snagged on something—an exposed root or rock.