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its prey.

His stomach churned. A trap that size would tear off a wolf’s leg. He was much bigger, and after analyzing the sharp metallic teeth for a moment, he put his plan into action. Taking a deep breath and relaxing his body, Hakken prepared for what he had to do.

He stomped on the trap; the horrid mechanism trapped his leg and cut his flesh. Hakken held back a growl. The laceration made him grind his teeth, but he endured it, taking a moment to get used to the burn in his leg and lay on the floor. He thought about the best position to appear vulnerable while still being able to attack if his plan went astray.

Once satisfied, he let out a roar, and without delay, the men in the camp sounded the alarm. They approached with drawn swords and tense bows. Soon, terror transformed their faces upon discovering a half-breed caught in one of their traps.

He let out wild grunts to keep up appearances, but pretended to recoil in fear when he noticed the arrows pointing at him from all directions.

Even if they shoot me, I can kill some of them. He thought with morbid pleasure. He kept the facade of pain and concern, but he couldn’t help baring his fangs when he saw the young men approach. One of them made him grunt.

“Sir! We must kill it immediately, it is dangerous to keep it alive!” One of the older hunters tried to be the voice of reason, but Hakken caught the greedy glow in the eyes of the brat called Kieran.

“Why? Look at him! He is scared and injured. I say we got the best of all the pieces. Tie him well and lock him up! Callum Hall will have a new attraction.”

They hesitated with good reason. I would also be afraid to come near me. Hakken found it difficult not to smirk; his plan worked like a charm.

The boy raised his voice, annoyed at not being obeyed. “I’ll pay double to whoever has the balls to restrict that beast!”

A handful of men reacted to his offer. They tied his neck with ropes they threw from a safe distance while another man readied the cart loaded with the wolves.  They forced him to his feet, the trap still embedded in his leg.

Now closer to the cart, he could see the large cage under the bodies, spacious enough to contain an adult wolf. The hunters pushed Hakken in, laying with his legs bent.

They set off without further delay, and throughout the journey, he wailed because of his wound. He kept repeating pleading words in his own language. He could tell the hunter’s confidence grew, oblivious to any danger now the half-breed was caged.

Hakken was having a blast with all his acting. He discovered a natural talent for it.

CHAPTER VII

DEATH SENTENCE

Maeve

Lady Callum forced her ladies to pray all day to ensure the safe return of her offspring. Maeve endured it with all the patience of a monk. Sitting among them, she prayed for Kieran to fall off the horse and break his teeth instead.

Right before nightfall, the hunting party returned. While the boys dismounted in the courtyard, the hunters took care of the horses and the pieces they collected during the day.

Maeve didn’t want to welcome any of them. She preferred to stay in her room, but lady Callum would never allow such disrespect to her dear child. The lingering daylight illuminated the castle walls. The gray stones of the courtyard held the little warmth they absorbed during the day. A thick cloak of darkness covered the surrounding mountains.

Maeve rubbed her arms, staring at the beautiful contrasts between the emerald green of the trees and the bluish clouds floating among them, giving them a dreamlike aspect.

They returned unharmed. Deep down, the easy success the irresponsible young men attained disappointed her. No broken legs, no dead. Decorum deemed scandalous to think like this, but Maeve didn’t find it in her to rejoice over the good fortune of her hosts.

She wanted more than anything to escape from the courtyard and avoid Kieran’s presence. He organized the hunting party to impress her. A tiny sign of kindness would have worked a lot better. A simple ‘thank you’ from Kieran would have blown her mind.

Maeve clenched her jaw. There has to be a way to avoid this marriage. While the Callums fuzzed over their boy, Maeve hoped to sneak back into the castle.

Unfortunately, lord Callum soon ruined the possibility. “Lady O’Riordan! Come, look at this wonder!” lord Callum waved an arm and shouted to gain her attention.

Maeve sighed and plastered a fake smile before approaching lord Callum. She took short steps to annoy him, blowing and rubbing her hands to display her discomfort, and thus, be able to leave them sooner.

Lord Callum rested an arm around his son’s shoulders, proudly shaking him while they beamed at a cart yet to be unloaded. Kieran’s group surrounded them.  During her first weeks in the castle, Maeve tried to familiarize herself with them. Until this day, she remained unimpressed.

Selfish and feeble-minded brats; heirs to fortunes and lands they hardly grasped how to maintain. The same petty people constantly surrounded Kieran. No wonder he got away with being a villain.

Maeve rolled her eyes, hearing Kieran boasting about his hunting skills. His impeccable clothes tell otherwise. Covered in dirt and bloodstains, the hunters remained impassive. Also, she had seen him with a bow, and his aim was nonexistent. It was clear to anyone but his parents; Kieran had nothing to do with the actual hunting. Ridiculous.

Since they blocked the cart, she failed to see what it contained until she stood only a few steps away. Maeve stopped when she discovered the gray and brown skins, and the stench of death hit her.

Incapable of containing her bewilderment, Maeve’s careful mask of indifference broke. Her eyes opened wide, and a hand shot to her mouth, holding back her gasp. Kieran, of course, interpreted it as a triumph, seeing his beautiful

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