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her feel uneasy.

Her cheek rested over the furs covering him, and Maeve dozed off while wrapped in his body heat. It was such a strange situation, and she wasn’t sure how to react. Could she trust him? Then again, the plans he had for her were still unknown.

Stifling a yawn, she asked. “What is your name?”

If he refused to give her the important information, at least she could distract herself from her dire plight. A smirk from his tight lips was the only answer, and Maeve frowned. Nothing bothered her more than being ignored. She looked away from him, pouting and feeling a little ridiculous, considering she didn’t know if she would live until the end of the day.

A growl from her stomach interrupted her thoughts. It was mid-morning, and she had nothing to eat since last night. A little self-conscious, she crossed her arms over her body and startled when his chest vibrated with laughter.

Through the corner of her eye, she spotted him snagging an apple from his vest before offering it to her. The same apple she gave him one night ago. Maeve hesitated before accepting it, curiosity stinging in her mind. “You don’t like apples?” she asked.

The half-breed laughed with mirth, throwing his head back. His face—only a few inches away—showed her every detail of the sharp fangs that stood out in his smile.

Maeve flinched. Well, that answers one stupid question. She thought to herself, realizing this denture could only mean his diet consisted mostly of meat. While she accepted the apple and gave it a nibble, she couldn’t help asking herself the other question at the back of her head. If those same fangs would end her life.

Hakken

They were getting close to the village, so he took several deep breaths to calm himself, aware that if he lost his patience in front of the matriarch, the chances of keeping Maeve would diminish. While she ate, he couldn’t help thinking about what he would have to do if he couldn’t convince the old hag.

Would it be better to kill her now, without giving her time to understand her life would end? Would he be the one to do it?

Hakken wouldn’t allow anyone to take her from him.

Keeping his pace and taking advantage of Maeve being absorbed in her surroundings, he studied her. Daylight allowed him to see details he hadn’t noticed during the night or in the cell. The shocking blue of her eyes reminded him of the sky on a sunny day.

Being this close, her delicious scent filled his nostrils—fresh flowers and sandalwood.

Guilt overwhelmed him; now, he was almost certain he led her to her death.  Would he take her life by tearing that delicate neck? Would he hold her in his arms while the light left her eyes?

Hakken imagined sinking his fangs into Maeve’s skin, and the thought made him nauseous. At least now he knew he couldn’t end her life or let anyone else do it.

All his stubbornness arose. The painful sensation pressing on his chest vanished. He decided that—whatever happened—he would protect Maeve. She was his, and he didn’t want to lose her.

“My name is Hakken. No one will hurt you.”

CHAPTER XII

MOUNTAIN SECRETS

Regn

Freezing water slipped through his fingers when he—for the millionth time—wiped his face. Not that it made much difference. Relentless rain had been falling for days, and tonight was no exception. The weather in the mountains remained as dreadful as ever. At least the snow gave way to rain, and not being able to light a fire no longer made him feel miserable. Yeah... keep telling yourself that. 

After hiding in the mountains for months, alone and under the inclement weather, Regn wondered if the matriarch hated him. The wise woman had sent him away with a mission. It made sense the task fell on him since he was smaller and stealthier than most hunters. His past years as a nomad paid off. Yes, it made sense he spied on the mountain half-breed tribe.

Years ago, after losing his family, the elves took him to the village of the Children of the River. They welcomed Regn as one of their own. After so much death, destruction, and pain, all half-breed tribes worked together to heal their wounds.

Helping a young orphan became part of that healing.

No matter how much kindness the tribe showed him, he carried his family’s loss in an angry place of his heart. He cared about his new people. He joined the community and took part in the village dealings. But he yearned for something else.

He was a man now, and the years pushed his feelings aside. To protect the village and the Forest became his prime goal. But he never forgot his promise of revenge.

In recent months he had been too busy to entertain the idea. A growing rumor that mountain half-breeds were behaving suspiciously led him there. Ever since the war, they had been under scrutiny. Neighboring villages expressed concern, demanding actions to prevent a second war.

Mountain half-breeds brewing a new war sounded a little far-fetched. The few survivors had returned to the mountains with their tails between their legs and spent all these years hidden in the deep caverns.

The slope of the mountain held a few scattered cabins. For days now, Regn only saw a handful of women and children gathering roots and carrying firewood. From his hiding place, Regn studied their comings and goings with no evidence of suspicious activity, but it was a waste of time.

If he wanted to return to his village with the certainty the mountain half-breeds were not planning a new attack, he had to go into the caverns where they lived.

Once decided, it took him a few hours to find unused access. Fighting a great deal of trepidation, he entered the darkness. The inside of the mountain—drier and warmer—did little to appease his uneasiness.

Regn stalked the surrounding corridors like a ghost. He didn’t sense many people around, but he needed to be careful. When the last corridor opened into a

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