“Tomorrow what?” Rowan called after her, and she heard the frustration in the girl’s voice.

“We hunt.”

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

The day of my first hunt dawned with a howl. The shutters on my window clattered, straining at the hinges, and I pulled the thick curtains more tightly over them to stop the draft. Even the fire in my little hearth sputtered, the draw from the blizzard outside sending a shower of sparks upward.

Disappointment came in with the cold. There was no way the Huntress would go out in this, and I did not bother hiding my unhappiness.

“Damn it,” I swore, kicking the chest at the foot of the bed and earning myself a sore toe. I could not spend another day in the yard shooting arrows or dancing around the Huntress with a spear. I had calluses on my hands now from weeks of practice, and an ache that followed me around wherever I went, sharpening into a need so deep it felt like pain whenever my eyes fell on the Huntress. The only thing worse than being near her was being away from her. I paced the library or, worse, I tried to read, and my eyes glossed over the words and gleaned no meaning from the letters. A hunt was exactly what I needed. Time spent outside these walls, without the whispering presence of the roses, would clear the air.

None of that seemed likely now. I dressed in my hunting clothes anyway and descended the stairs in search of breakfast, if not for myself, then for the pup, who bumped me playfully with her shoulder.

“When did you get so big?” I asked her, momentarily distracted by the revelation that my runty wolf now reached my hip.

She chose not to answer, and instead chased the drifts that blew in through the arrow slits in the outer hallways, darting from one pile of snow to the next with an enthusiasm I did not share. I followed her, nudging her out of my way now and then when she showed signs of wanting to bite at my boots.

The Huntress was not in the kitchen, but I found my spear propped against the table. Behind it lay a slice of thick brown bread and cheese. I shoved it into my mouth and chewed as quickly as I could, my heart pounding. My heart pounded more often than not these days, and I closed my eyes against the sound before it drove me mad. I tried to concentrate on eating, then gave up, wrapped the rest of the bread in a bit of cloth, shoved it into a pocket, grabbed the spear, and sprinted for the stables.