Hunted in Holly

Chapter 8

No. No no no no no no no—

I clawed at the ground, desperate for purchase, but my fingers only made sad, thin trails in the surface of the thick frost as Nicholas dragged me by my right ankle through the woods. There was nothing of substance to hold onto, and he had no problem tugging me from the thin branches or wayward sticks I’d tried to anchor myself with along the way.

“Let me go!” I screamed, as I combined my magic with the ice around me to form an extra sharp, thick, and dense icicle. I twisted on the ground to fling it at his head. With his perfect reflexes, the frozen blade barely nicked his cheek.

He looked down at me and smiled as blood dripped from the wound. “You can do better than that, can’t you?”

I only glared in response, punctuating my anger by thrashing and kicking him with my free leg, but he didn’t so much as flinch, no matter how hard I struck his thigh.

No, he just readjusted his grip and kept walking. Kept dragging me. Kept taking me who-knows-where to do who-knows-what .

I made two more icicles, and I threw them both at him. One hit his shoulder. One hit his side. He remained completely unbothered.

“Where are you taking me?” I yelled next. I grabbed another branch, and he yanked me right off it, sheering off the pine needles in the process. My gloves were sticky with sap, and the tiny spears scattered through the ruts and divots my body was drawing through the powder.

“Somewhere more open and comfortable.” He said so casually. “I could have taken you in your little rabbit den, but that felt a touch claustrophobic. I don’t even know what position you like yet, and I plan to explore thoroughly.”

My cheeks flared, and I decided it was out of anger.

I kicked him again, and he laughed when I wanted him to buckle. He just kept hauling me along the ground like a goddamn cave man.

“That was clever, by the way.” Nicholas continued. “You threw me off for a few seconds with your backwards steps, and the foxhole was a nice touch. If not for that loud and speedy little heartbeat of yours, I might not have noticed you at all.” He tugged me over an uneven mound, not caring that I just got powder up my nose. “You should really work on your fear threshold when you’re being hunted, my ice queen.”

I fucking knew it. Stupid heart.

A bucket worth of snowflakes fell from a branch directly onto my head, and I wanted to scream. “I’ve never been hunted by someone like you, so I haven’t really had to practice playing dead for fucking monsters before.” I snapped, which only added to his zip of amusement.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He snorted.

“It wasn’t.” I scoffed.

“And yet your beautiful, natural, clove-scented pheromones are stronger and more potent than even the pine right now. Why would that be? If only, IF ONLY , I could recall what instinct amplifies scent like that.”

“It means even my body is repulsed by you.”

“Mmmhmmmm.” He hummed along, still dragging me. Still acting like a goddamn animal who just claimed his mate.

Three days. I’d only needed three days, and he’d found me in barely three hours.

My cheeks were numb from the cold of the snow sliding along my face, while I continued to thrash and struggle. He didn’t even stop as the occasional stick or root scratched shallow marks into my skin. He was rough and relentless and I hated him for it.

I took a moment to try and gather my wits. Every step, we got that much closer to his destination, wherever that was, and I didn’t want to think about what came next.

I dug into the snow more deeply, trying to slow his step the smallest fraction, and I used my energy to concentrate my ice in a different way.

While this brute of a man lowered his guard, acting so smug while he continued to drag me like I was a sack of meat, I formed a thin ring of ice around my ankle exactly where he gripped me. Then, with the deepest inhale, pulling in all of nature’s chill that I could harness, I made that ice ring erupt into sharp spikes. Thick spears skewered clean through his palm and his fingers, prying open his grip and forcing him to drop me.

Nicholas only grunted as his blood spattered in the snow. I couldn’t really say if I’d mauled him or if it was little more than a scratch, but I didn’t have the luxury of time to fully appreciate the extent of the damage I’d done. I was back on my feet as soon as my toes hit the ground, and I broke out into a full bore sprint.

Nicholas didn’t give chase immediately. I was sure that was part of the fun for him, so I leveraged that hubris to make distance. When I did hear his footsteps behind me, I was already at a cliff side, scrambling like my life depended on it.

It did, after all.

It truly did.

Above the tree line, the wind was howling now, and the once blue sky was dark with clouds. The night was coming on nearly as fast as the storm, but this was a challenge I could handle. So long as I ended this day a free woman, the weather was the least of my worries.

I kept climbing, bracing myself against each passing gust, while using both natural hand holds and magically constructed ice picks to hoist me higher.

While it wasn’t snowing yet, the wind lifted previously fallen powder into the air, and snowflakes twirled around me in spiraling, frosted dust. The small whirlwind felt protective, like mother earth was attempting to create a shield, and I thanked whatever cover the coming blizzard might provide .

When I got to the top of the ledge, Nicholas was standing at the bottom. He stared up at me from his place on the ground.

“Very resourceful, Sweet Noel.” He called up a compliment, and I grinned back down.

“What’s wrong? Can’t climb?” I sat at the edge, kicking my feet as I taunted him. Though I didn’t actually want him to call my bluff. I would be shocked if he couldn’t scale this wall faster and more efficiently than I could, but I hoped he was enjoying whatever cat and mouse game we were playing too much to end it so soon.

“Said the treed kitten to the hungry bear.” He laughed, and I flushed, while those crimson red eyes almost looked nonthreatening through the gesture. The material of his black glove was torn, while blood stained the sleeve of his winter coat, barely visible in the red suede and black fur trim. The wound, however, seemed to have closed. “I do enjoy that false sense of security you keep manifesting though.”

“Considering how easy it was for this ‘kitten’ to break into your fortress, I suppose you would be an authority on false security.” I drummed my fingers on top the ledge, building large, punishing ice spikes along the ridge. “A defense without offense is no protection at all, wouldn’t you say?” I hit one of the spikes with the heel of my hand, sending the shard down into the snow beside him. Piercing icicles rained around his position on the ground in a cage-like circle. Once all of my ice blades were spent, I drummed my fingers again, crafting a new batch.

I was learning my lesson about hiding and hoping very, very quickly. From here on, I needed a plan of attack that had more bite than running and cowering .

“You missed.” He put out a hand, palm upturned in wait. I took the bait, knocking a new icicle from the ledge and sending it careening directly to and through him. The spike speared the perfect center of his palm, and he closed his fist on the length of it. The blade shattered under the pressure of his grip, and both blood and water dripped from his hand in its place.

He kissed his own bloodied knuckles, never breaking the connection of our gaze, then he took a bow. “Most exquisite, my queen.” His wink was entirely too playful. “I’ll let you have this one. You’ve won this day. I hope you’ll be even better sport tomorrow.”

Wait, what?

Why? I almost asked aloud, but I thought better of keeping him here any longer. I wasn’t about to try to change his mind.

He turned on his heel and walked away, disappearing into the thick of the pine. I pulled my legs into fetal position atop the cliff, and I watched the spot where he once stood for several moments, waiting for him to return and turn the tables.

When nearly an hour passed, and he still hadn’t come back, I accepted he’d meant what he said.

Focus back on survival, I took the time to re-energize with a snack and build a shelter to ride out the howling wind. Using a combination of ice and stones, I shaped a small dome, then I crawled inside and sealed off the opening.

It was chilled inside, but nothing I couldn’t grin and bear. Pulling my coat tightly around me, I rifled through my pack and returned to nibbling on what was left of my gingerbread bar .

The notes of ginger and cinnamon were strong and comforting. They reminded me so much of home. All the times I baked cookies with my mother or stole cookies with my brother growing up.

With a heavy sigh, I laid my head back into the fur lined hood of my coat. I closed my eyes, and I did my best to get some sleep.