By the time evening began to fall, Jaren was so uncomfortable from being tied to the tree that he was actually looking forward to the Hunt. Anything to put him out of his misery. He had one plan and one plan only: get to the boat, assuming no one had moved it. That was his only chance off the island, and he would get to it or die trying.

When the council members returned, Jaren was dismayed to see them heavily armed and dressed to Hunt. He was wearing the same ratty tunic and breeches he’d been wearing since he arrived, and though he’d tried to stay healthy, he was still far weaker than he’d been before he came. He’d had nothing but the porridge and bread to eat today, and the summer heat had been stifling.

“I’m going to untie you,” one of the men said. “You’ll have a head start.”

“How long?” Jaren asked, rubbing at the places where the rope had chafed him.

“When the sun sets, once the singing begins, the Hunt is on.”

Jaren stared at the man, who nodded, and with that, Jaren took off for the shore. He stumbled over roots that appeared out of nowhere, tripped over rocks he didn’t see. Branches that should have cleared his head smacked him in the face as he ran in what he hoped was the direction of the beach. He could hear the singing now, eerie and yet hauntingly beautiful. It didn’t lure him in, however. It just made him aware of how many people out there were trying to kill him.

He thought of his family: his gentle, loving father, his sisters, each so different and yet all just as loving as Stepan. He thought, too, of his mother, how he had always secretly believed that he was her favorite, though she would never admit it out loud. And he thought of Leelo. He wished he could spare her from all the pain he’d caused her, but he would never regret loving her. Whether it was fate, bad luck, or simply a hungry wolf that had brought him to Endla, it was all worth it to have fallen in love with her.

There, through the trees. He could just make out the glint of moonlight on water. He was almost there. A few more yards, and he would be on the beach.

Suddenly, a shadow stepped out of the trees, blocking his path. He couldn’t make out much in the darkness, though he was relieved it wasn’t one of the burly men who had held him prisoner. He skidded to a stop, wishing he had some weapon—any weapon—to defend himself.

The person stepped forward, and as the moonlight slanted across her face, he felt his breath leave him in a rush.