Hunter betrayed, p.1
Hunter Betrayed, page 1
part #1 of Wild Hunt Series
Hunter Betrayed
Nancy Corrigan
Wild Hunt, Book 1
Tainted from birth, Harley lives a life cloaked in darkness and temptation. She resists the lure of her evil legacy by holding the memory of her ghostly savior close. Every night without him is agony. She fantasizes about him and yearns for his body, but he’s not the protector or lover she’s envisioned. He’s a Hunter bred to eliminate her kind. He’s also her only hope of salvation.
Calan, the leader of the Wild Hunt, was created to protect mankind from the Unseelie Court. For a millennium, he’s sacrificed to ensure the horrid creatures remain in the Underworld, but his strength wanes. He must rely on his enemy’s daughter to save him, but he doesn’t expect the intensity of their lust or love. Her touch calms his wild nature and ignites his carnal desires. He’ll risk all to save her, but doing so forces him to make the ultimate sacrifice, one that’ll damn him to suffer forever in his own living hell.
A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
Hunter Betrayed
Nancy Corrigan
Prologue
1,000 Years Ago
Calan, eldest of the Huntsmen, leaned over the spectral form of his horse. His siblings spreading out behind him followed suit. A prod to his stallion’s flank and he urged the beast faster. Its sides heaved and breath fogged the cold night air, but it made no sound, stealth its gift along with speed. Its furious pace pushed him across the sky in a blur of motion few humans would see. Connected to them, the phantom animals shared in the wrath and urgency the Wild Hunt spurred among its riders. All seethed. All hungered for retaliation. All lived and breathed as one.
The baying of his hounds lessened with the passing of the countryside beneath them. They were closing in on their prey. Good. The opportunity to avert disaster slipped away with each beat of the earth’s heart. He fisted the mane under his palms and dragged in a breath of air laced with the stench of evil. A smile spread. Victory hovered within their grasp.
He glanced at Rhys, his second-in-command. Already fully transformed into his Huntsman form, Rhys caught his gaze with reddened eyes. His longer muzzle displayed a mouthful of deadly teeth and curled talons gripped his flaming obsidian sword. No words passed between them. They understood the danger that awaited them. Rhys gave a single nod and veered off to the right with half their legion.
A peek at Tegan, his third, showed her in the midst of the change. Color leeched from her skin, leaving her as ghastly as the mare she rode. Claws formed. Her angelic face lengthened and her petite frame gained mass.
She winked at him, a drop of blood oozing from the corner of her eye. A tip of her chin and their remaining siblings swerved to the left, leaving him alone with his favored steed.
Silence fell over the night. Colors blurred, the world rushing by at speeds no mere human could fathom. Faster. Calan pushed his stallion to the limit of its abilities. The fabric of the world around him groaned, straining to maintain its woven pattern in the face of his wrath.
A flash of light in the distance indicated his destination. Flames engulfed the village. He inhaled and inwardly cursed at the information stamped onto the breeze. The pain of the last great priestess coated his tongue. Raped by Dahm, the dark fairy prince of the Unseelie Court, she carried within her womb the sacrifice needed to open the gates of hell.
Urgency added to the fury of the Hunt. His horse responded to his unspoken plea, galloping harder until sparks trailed behind them. It would sacrifice its very being to ensure their prey was caught. So would Calan. The protection of the mortal world was his sole purpose in life. Born with ties to both the human realm and the Underworld, the Huntsmen were the only ones with the ability to stop the fairies from releasing their deviant creatures along with the chaotic aspects of Hell.
He would not shame the memory of his beloved human mother or betray the vow he’d given to his father when he’d joined the Hunt. Both would be honored. He wouldn’t accept anything less. If he did, the fairies would gain complete control over the world.
They had almost succeeded too. The barrier separating the realms was damaged. A crack had developed, one that had required the intervention of all the gods to seal. The fix hadn’t come without cost, however. The condemned fairies paid it by repeatedly dying. Their pain and fear fueled the magic that upheld the seal. Not for much longer, though.
Dahm had stolen the dagger used to deliver the curse. He planned to transfer it to a fairy who had not yet matured and gained immortality—his newborn child. Once his babe died, the curse would be broken, the barrier would fall and the realms would merge.
No. It won’t happen. I won’t allow it.
There was time to avert disaster. They had not missed the birth. The priestess still writhed in the throes of labor pain. Blood dripped from the edges of the flat surface to coat the glyphs etched in the base, infusing them with her powerful essence. A grunt accompanied the female’s push. The raven head of her babe crested her birth canal. Dahm climbed onto the altar and poised between her spread thighs, the dagger held in his raised hand.
Calan reached for his siblings, tying them together and giving him more power than he’d ever known. He leapt from his horse and tackled the dark prince before he could strike the blow. The clang of the blade upon the stone rang through the night. Roars echoed in his ears—his, Dahm’s and that of his siblings. Metal cracking against metal resonated around him. The fury and wrath of the Huntsmen as they fought Dahm’s army of sluaghs, human puppets created to serve the fairies, added to the festering rage consuming him. Calan accepted it all and used their frenzy to feed his.
He clawed at the fairy’s malformed body, ripping his leathery sides open. The bitter smell of bile and the ripe scent of waste twined with Dahm’s malevolent taint. The once-beautiful Seelie male had succumbed to the infection he had willingly invited inside. It had made him the first of the Unseelie—tainted by chaos, corrupted by madness and damned to a living hell. Rotten from the inside out, his hunched back and elongated limbs reflected the monster he’d become.
They rolled across the sodden ground, swiping and tearing each other to shreds. Both evenly matched, their battle turned into a back and forth exchange of fists and claws. Each time Calan gained ground, Dahm countered it. Blood soaked them both, along with sweat and gore. Frustration threatened to consume Calan. He couldn’t fail. The fate of humankind rested upon him.
Memories of time spent with his human stepfamily returned to him. Laughter, happiness—he’d understood the emotions once, years before the Hunt became his life. He often took the recollections out as treasured gifts to study, absorb and remember why he rode. He embraced the images, needing anything that would give him additional strength. His mother’s pale-blue eyes, ones he’d been told matched his, filled his vision. For her descendants—his relations—he had to succeed.
He led the male in the brawl then pulled his last punch. The opening gave the fallen fairy the chance to strike the deathblow. Dahm raised his clawed fist to take it. Calan caught his hand and used the hold to flip their positions, trapping Dahm below him. The dark prince roared and bucked, but Calan gripped Dahm’s oversized, misshapen head between his hands. One tug and the Hunt would end, once and for all.
The baby’s first cry pierced the night.
“No!” the priestess screamed.
Calan peered over his shoulder. Hatred distorted the female’s face as she sawed at the umbilical cord with a jagged piece of rock. She tossed it then reached for the discarded blade. His heart skipped a beat. She raised it over her babe’s bloody body.
By the gods, no!
Calan released his nemesis and dove toward the altar. He shoved the priestess’s hand away and curled his body around the innocent life. The blade meant to transfer the curse to the newborn melted bone as it slid into Calan’s shoulder. Searing pain spread and he shook under the force of the fiery ice slithering through his veins. The burning chill, the spark of life and the precursor of death, became his world. It demanded his suffering, an eternity of it to make up for crimes he’d never committed.
He screamed, yet no sound emerged. His cry of fury echoed inside his head. Every particle in his body rebelled against the misery shredding his soul. It was magic of the purest kind and stolen from the fabric of the universe.
Words skittered through his mind, ones he knew by heart, ones he’d spoken millennia ago. The hellish, unending curse delivered upon the Unseelie Court weaved its spell upon Calan, but the shrill cry of the newborn he still cradled made it worth it. He’d saved the child from experiencing the pain ripping him apart. For that alone, Calan willingly shouldered it. For the fate of the world, he embraced it.
His choice was made. The barrier could not break. He would pay the price the curse demanded in pain and blood. If he didn’t, Dahm would simply repeat the tragedy Calan had stopped today. He couldn’t risk failure.
He opened his mental pathway to Rhys. Anguish consumed his brother’s mind. Worry for his sibling surfaced. He pushed it aside for the moment. Duty came first.
Rhys, I have accepted the curse. You must defeat Dahm while I maintain the barrier.
Only then would Calan be freed.
He waited for his brother’s acceptance. Only his pained groans answered him.
Rhys?
Can’t. We are…connected. Your pain is…ours.
Gods, no! He hadn’t realized what would happen. He reached for each of his siblings and found them all suffering with the same level of agony.
&n bsp; He couldn’t wipe the world of all the Huntsmen, not while Dahm roamed free. Calan fought the magic weaving its way into his soul. He was kicked to his back and the infant plucked from his hands before he could do more.
Dahm pressed a distorted foot to Calan’s chest and leaned over him. The monstrous face of the fallen fairy faded. Glamour, the magic of the fae, weaved a mask of beauty over the malevolent soul contained within the dark prince. Perfectly formed cheekbones, full lips and green eyes formed in the blob of rotten flesh. Blond hair sprouted where none had been and his body thinned to the leanly formed frame he preferred.
“Foolish, Hunter.” Dahm sneered, showing off black stubs for teeth, the last of his unholy form. “Do you think your sacrifice will save the world?”
Calan struggled to make his mouth work, but his lips remained pressed together. His muscles burned, seized and contorted against his will. He forced his lids to drop, the glare all he could manage.
Dahm grinned. “I see the curse is already working upon you. Enjoy it, Hunter Calan. Your suffering will not be enough to hold the splintered barrier forever. The curse was meant for the fairies, not the Huntsmen. Once the magic destroys your minds, you won’t be able to pay the price demanded of it. The barrier will fall and I will win anyway.”
He glanced behind him and spoke in the rapid, fluid language of the fae. The garbled response of a sluagh carried over the crackle of flames continuing to destroy the village.
Calan’s heart skipped a beat before pounding in his chest at the fate he’d been handed—imprisonment in the fairy realm, a place no other human or god could transverse.
He strained against his traitorous muscles locking him in place. No use, he was too weak.
In a desperate attempt to stop Dahm, he drew strength from his siblings once more. Instead of trying to make his leaden limbs move, he used the power to force the curse onto his siblings. One of them had to survive.
Forgive me. He sent them his regret and his promise to save them.
Murmurs of acceptance flowed through his mind. Life returned to Calan’s body.
He pushed from the ground. A sluagh yelled a warning. Dahm turned and thrust a clawed fist into Calan’s chest, breaking ribs and tearing muscle. Talons sank into his heart. He grabbed Dahm’s arm, but he was too late.
Pain radiated outward.
His heart took its last beat.
He fell but death didn’t claim him. Like the mature fairies, it never would. He would forever return to his body, alive and whole. While he healed, he watched his siblings disappear, one by one, their bodies transported into the fairy realm. There they would suffer under the weight of the fairy’s curse until their minds broke.
The truth settled in his heart. He could no longer deny it.
He’d failed everyone. And soon, hell would take over the world.
Chapter One
Nine Years Ago
Tegan’s screams echoed in Calan’s head. He tried to connect to his sister, but she rarely acknowledged him anymore. She was slowly losing her mind and it was his fault.
His desperate attempt to stop Dahm, the dark fairy prince of the Unseelie Court, from opening the gates of hell had damned his siblings, the other riders of the Wild Hunt. They bore the weight of the punishment meant for the corrupted fairies by dying over and over in the worst conceivable ways. It was their fear and pain that fed the magic that held the damaged barrier between the realms closed.
It should have been he who suffered. Instead, he hung from chains in a solitary prison no god or human could enter. The only thing he could offer his siblings was his company. He could touch their minds, engage them in conversation and share their pain, but not alleviate it.
None of the Huntsmen blamed him for the tragedy that had befallen them, but the suffering they’d endured over the past thousand years had broken some of them. He hoped he didn’t lose Tegan too. Third born, she had fought in the Great War at his side.
On his other flank, his second had ridden. Calan conjured his face. Rhys’ dark-brown hair and glacier-blue eyes made him both striking and frightening. Calan recalled the battles they’d won, the nights of drunken revelry and the affection he’d always felt but rarely showed. The pull to his brother flared and Rhys’ personal hell became Calan’s too.
Thick smoke filled his lungs, burned his eyes and wrapped around him in a suffocating blanket he couldn’t escape. Calan released his breath in a slow hiss and embraced the pain. It didn’t ease the suffering Rhys experienced, but the compulsion to protect him couldn’t be denied.
Hot air washed over Calan, bubbling his skin and searing his throat. He locked his muscles and waited for the first flick of the never-ending fire. A crackle and whoosh heralded the arrival of hungry flames. The living inferno crawled up his legs, down his arms and wound around him until every inch of his body ignited. He fought the urge to cry out even though he knew it was the only way to make the blaze retreat.
The flames ate away at his skin, his manhood, his sanity. A scream built in his chest. He clamped his jaw. Too much, too much. He thrashed against his bonds, twisting and turning to escape. There was none. The pressure in his lungs intensified. His lips parted against his will. Laughter echoed around him and the fire raced into his mouth.
He burst into flames.
The scent of his burning flesh surrounded him along with his continuous roar. On and on, the torment continued until his heart took its final beat. The flames retreated, their task complete for the time being. The sacrifice had been made and his suffering fueled the magic.
The barrier separating the human realm from hell would hold for yet another hour.
Minutes passed and he wondered if death would finally find him and give him relief, but the curse of being the child of a god reared its head. Flesh regrew. Bones reformed. The clothing he’d worn the day he’d been imprisoned wove itself over his body. The hope fizzled.
He sagged in his bonds and dragged in a shuddering breath.
Why do you insist on sharing our suffering when you do not need to?
Rhys asked the same question every time they spoke. Calan gave his usual answer. Because it is my punishment, my hell and my sin for condemning you. I would bear it all if I could.
Rhys sighed. You did not know what would happen any more than I did. I would have done the same.
Calan’s next words would’ve been, No, brother, you would’ve saved us all. He couldn’t utter them today. The game they’d played for what might have been forever felt like a betrayal without Tegan’s sarcastic retorts.
How is Tegan today?
Of course Rhys would guess at the reason behind Calan’s hesitation in their choreographed act. They’d been together since the humans had first drawn the attention of the fairies and upset the fabric of the world. Calan closed his eyes and attempted once more to draw her mind to theirs. A mental shove pushed him out.
She refuses my company. Calan cursed. She’s slipping away from us, Rhys. I cannot bear the loss of her.
She senses the end is coming and has given up.
There is still hope. If I can convince one of Dahm’s children to release me—
Stop, Calan. Our sister is right. There is no hope, not for us or the humans. Dahm has won. The Unseelie Court will rule the human realm exactly as they had vowed to do eons ago. We have only delayed the inevitable. We continue to do so.
No. We wait. Our key has not yet presented itself.
Rhys groaned. Dahm’s half-breed children are of no use to us. His hungry minions pick them off as soon as their darkness flares.
Calan flexed his right hand. His other remained stretched above his head while his feet were shackled to hooks on the floor. He rested his head against the smooth stone wall at his back.
Not always. A hundred years ago, a young boy had stumbled upon him. Calan had convinced the half-breed to free one of his arms but the child had fled before he finished releasing him. Perhaps once my prison moves to a new location, I will have better luck finding a half-breed who’ll help us.
His prison moved with each new moon. In some locations he could connect to Dahm’s offspring, the only other fairies remaining in the human realm. In others he found none. The frustration came when he discovered a child who was too young to be reached. By the time he returned, the young half-breed was either already dead or too corrupted to be coaxed into unlocking him.
