Gryffin doesn’t look up from the fire.
Nyx swings his head back toward the sparse patch of grass where the other two unicorns tear at the vegetation with their teeth. Is there any good grass here for them? Imagine the grazing they could do in the field behind the cottage.
Ever gestures back toward the blankets. “Come. I made you a seat.”
“I can see that. Thank you.”
Ever folds himself next to me, sitting a little closer than necessary. The other two seem content to speak quietly in front of the fire. Every once in a while, the wind changes direction, blowing smoke toward the blankets. It takes all my effort to keep my breathing steady even as my eyes burn.
When Ever shifts, the dagger at his hip bumps against mine. Maddox and Gryffin seem to have similar weapons on their belts.
“Do you all have the same daggers?”
Ever leans back on his hands and stretches his endless legs in front of him with a shake of his head. “Younglings are given daggers of elk antlers. You only receive a wolf’s bone dagger when you have killed one.”
“All of you have killed wolves?” To think, I’ve lived my whole life protected from the harsh reality of their world.
They nod.
“How young were you when you first killed?”
Maddox puffs up his chest. “I slayed a squirrel on my third birthday.”
The soft scent of pine and leather tickles my nose when Ever leans closer. “Maddox lies.”
“I do not.”
Gryffin shakes his head. “You were five, same as the rest of us.”
“I was three,” Maddox insists.
The two of them squabble like an old married couple while Ever watches silently. Always watching. Always alert. “As Gryffin said, we were five when we were allowed to hunt in the small forest near camp, but we are taught to defend ourselves as soon as we can walk.”
They’re taught as children, and here I sit without even the most basic knowledge of how to defend myself.Soft, just like Ever accused when we met. “Will you teach me?”
His dark brows come together over narrowed eyes. “Gryff, do you have an extra blade?”
From his pack, Gryffin withdraws a small silver dagger and tosses the thing right at us.
Ever rips it out of the air easily enough, like the hilt and his hand are made magnets. He flips it over, handing me the bumpy hilt.Antler.
The poor deer…
Ever’s fingers come around mine, and all thoughts of cute, fuzzy animals flee my mind. “That’s too loose. Hold it like this.” He tightens his grip, forcing me to do the same. “Otherwise, if you miss your mark and hit bone instead, the blade might slip right out of your grasp. Keep your grip firm. There you go.” He withdraws his hand, but I can still feel his touch as acutely as if his fingers were still tangled with mine. “Just like that. Now you can swipe across the throat or stab the eye and strike the brain.” Taking my free hand, he presses my fingers to his bare chest. “Do you feel where this bone ends?”
Suddenly, my tongue is made of ash. “Yes.”
“Being this close to your prey is not ideal, but if you are, angle the blade upwards to avoid the ribcage and strike the heart. Never hesitate. Always go for the kill. If you miss, it could cost your life. Even if what you are hunting does not seem dangerous, you must remain on your guard. A deer’s antlers can be as deadly as a wolf’s teeth.”
Remain on your guard.
Never hesitate.
Always go for the kill.
Maybe Ever was right. Maybe I am too soft.
I return the blade and slide my hands down my silk skirts.