We're getting to the end so I want to give you guys two of my playlist songs for Hunted. Without further ado:

All the King's Horses -- Karmina

Dakota's mouth had dropped open in an airy gasp, probably in mirror of my own. Chiro wore a blank expression, but he was fighting a different battle at the moment. There wasn't any visible injury to him, but he walked just a little stiffer than usual, and barely said much since we'd arrived. He was hurting something fierce, I decided.

Then a little hand grabbed mine and tugged.

Led by the child, I trudged wearily into a courtyard absent of life except for one hulking, squat-nosed gargoyle.

Not master! it greeted me in the afternoon sunshine, stone tails scraping the grass.

"Nope," I said, throwing my hands into the air. "I know for a fact that bastard's got stairs."

Cairn-was that the gargoyle's name?- arched flimsy wings and snarled.

"I mean: your handsome, wonderful Master let me use stairs last time."

Am to brings you up! came the gritty, determined voice in my head. The first of six paws took a grass-sinking step forward.

"Not today," I said, shaking my head, inching back, back, back for the entryway. "I'm a Lady now. I have to be proper and take the stairs. You understand?"

He-she? it?-did not. The creature's thick hide tensed, its haunches coiled up. I turned and sprinted inside the entry we'd emerged from, rounding the hall corner to a screeching grumble as the beast lodged itself in the doorway.

"Next time!" I promised the gargoyle then kept jogging, afraid that it might force its way inside. I was certain it wouldn't try; the palace did belong to its master after all. Nevertheless, I wasn't about to take any chances and learn whether it could jam those mossy shoulders through. It took me a few turns to figure out where exactly the stairs were that lead to the King's residence. My memory of it seemed so distant and blurry, like a century had passed since last I'd come here. I felt different, walking up there in my weather-worn clothes, the stink of sweat and blood heavy on my skin.

A small candle flickered just inside the shadow of the winding staircase, held by another small child. His eyes, blue like the depths of the sea, where all the wild things lurked, fixed on me as I approached. He did not smile, did not stand to greet me. Just sat on the stair with the candle out before his knobby knees.

"Well isn't this creepy?" I mumbled to myself. When I neared him, the boy stood and offered the candle. "Did the King have you standing here all night in case I happened to go this way?"

A feeling I didn't like swam through those piercing blue eyes. The flame wavered in his grip.

"What if I took the gargoyle up? You were just gonna sit there all night?"

Nothing.

I snatched the stupid light from his hands with brief thanks and began the taxing climb. Wax dribbled over the tapered edge as I climbed, my shadow alone flickering across grey stone. At the top, where my breath threatened to extinguish the soft flame, I found the door open. The light itself, however small, could not burn away that waiting depth. With aching calves I crossed the threshold more comfortably than last time, yet less comfortable over all. Maybe, I thought, maybe I felt worse now knowing what it contained. The flame highlighted my shaking hand, then, in a puff of air and a flash of twisted beak and teeth, light became a smoky flash and faded. The only light left came from the curtained window Cairn would have made me scramble through, and that didn't reach so far inside.

The door swung shut with a rattled clack.

"Lady Wilson," came a voice sweeter than belladonna wine. The darkness inclined his head. "Congratulations."

"Your Highness," I began, dipping my head to match. My braided hair fell forward. As I swept it back over my shoulder I was conscious of a ripple of fur brushed against my elbow. A bit sourly, I straightened and added, "Thank you for the opportunity to Hunt."

"Of course, my dear, of course." Reptilian patience filled the minutes. A thin whisper ended the thoughtful pause. "Do you know what happens now?"

I couldn't help but wonder what the King was, that he could hide away in the darkness of a tower with a half face of sticky bone and muscle and still somehow hold dominion over monsters like Chiro and Akta. I found myself edging toward the veil of sunlight at curtained window opposite. "Didn't find it wise, thinking too far ahead."

"We must always think ahead," he said in that soft, delicate voice that promised romance and starlight and more than I would ever want from him. Clawed feet clicked against the wooden floor as he shuffled after me in his fur cloak, a shaded outline whose bulk edged on indiscernible. The King was most certainly not a man, at least, not fully. I imagined the harpy, if he'd had more aquiline features. But it was most definitely a hand, gnarled and aged with warts, that gripped my wrist in the subdued sunlight. "You have nothing, Lady Wilson. No home, land, or wealth. No place for you or your brides to lay their heads."

"Not true," I began. "I killed some of the Lords out there."

"Their relatives and descendants, if they had any, shall squabble among themselves for that land," the King said. The thick pads of his fingers rubbed against my wrist. "What you have is one bride with a rather hefty dowry. To be quite frank, I cannot fathom how that came to be." But he said it with such emphatic condescension he must have thought we'd planned something from the copious amounts of time I'd spent in Chiro's room. "Until you take your vows, we plan to accommodate you and yours here, as is custom with all victors of the Hunt. It may be a week yet until ceremonies begin. There are still brides in the wild, still a few Lords out rounding up your scraps. Now is a time for celebration, for enjoying your spoils as you see fit."

My nose wrinkled. "No thanks." I tried to casually pull my arm away. His hand did not move.

"I wouldn't dream of telling someone how to run their marriage," he began. He leaned forward, a glistening, moist grin impossible to fit on a broken beak. "But you see, Lady Wilson, I have been thinking ahead. I've considered your dilemma since your father confessed to your existence. Wasn't sure you would have a second meeting with me, but here you are, your own woman."

Sweat beaded my neck. The open air and rustling curtain did nothing to ease my growing anxiety. "We don't have to stay around here," I said before I could stop panic from taking over my tongue. When I'd first arrived I'd seen those distant, glimmering lights on the horizon beyond the plains. Maybe life was different there. "We'll go, leave this all behind."

"Those women of yours may find themselves in trouble on the journey. Those within my kingdom may not take kindly to deserters. Nor do those on the road always obey our laws."

"You have terrible laws from what I've seen."

"Hardly any." Laughter rumbled in the King's throat. "Why don't you change them?"

"How?" I asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

The king drew his furs around his shoulders, ravaged half twisting toward me. One wide raptor's eye assessed my stiff jawline. He still held my wrist tight. The other hand twitched into action. Blue veins fed the hooked talons that reached forward and caressed my chin. "Free your brides and marry me."

I stood my ground, fought against the urge to recoil with a sharp reply. "Why?" I asked him, searching that orange-rimmed gaze for intent.

He stepped closer, turned me against the window and pulled the curtain to one side. From here the world's inhabitants seemed nothing more than insects, most of whom I'd feel alright squashing. The grip on my arm disappeared, but I felt fur against my neck. His chest rose and fell and that beautiful voice continued, "Rule as my queen. Rule as a queen is meant to. You will have anything you want. Everything you want. Safety for those you choose for the rest of their lives. No doubt you've seen the changes our society needs."

I didn't dare turn around, because I didn't want myself even a centimeter closer to the demon with a voice like an angel. "And you'd be alright with me uprooting the weeds you've spent centuries cultivating?"

"I didn't say I would like it, Lady Wilson. But I can smell change blowing. There will be an upheaval, I can feel it sure as sunlight, but I would not like to be a part of what's thrown away."

"And what do you get out of this arrangement?" I asked him.

"I would think that is quite obvious," he said. Fingers tapped my shoulder.

"No." My head shook. This time I stepped away, away from the promising view, away from him. "I don't want that."

"You are the key to a new generation. The way magic moves through your veins..." Both hands caught my shoulders, massaged goosebumps into my skin. A serpentine tongue flicked aling my neck. "What a child could be, if they were crossed with our might!"

"No." At the sound of my knife sliding out he backed away faster than a stormcloud.

"My heirs are dead, Lady Wilson, slaughtered by your companion because he wanted their position. He did this to my face before I beat him back. One heir, one heir to keep my hopes alive. No more, no less. And the kingdom will fall at your feet. Your brides will be safe. Your pet will be safe. You will be safe. And my child would be safe at last, because he would not harm anything of yours."

"I don't understand," I said, frowning. "Why wouldn't Prince Chiro harm anything of mine?"

"He owes your father his life," the King said. "And he owes the Marrow Witch something even more precious. He has to protect you whether he wants to or not." The King made that funny little gesture in the gloom, and now, having witnessed what I had, there wasn't a single muscle to protest my own hands from warding It off, too.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ask him."

"I will, but now I'm tired, Your Grace," I said. "Let me hear him out and sleep on your proposal."

"All your concerns can be laid to rest with me."

"So I've heard," I responded, feeling for the door in the dark. Before I located it, the King propped it open and gestured to the black, spiraling staircase.

"Lady Wilson," he called as I started down the first steps. "I hope you realize that the Prince can't protect you from me for long. He'd be king already if he could."

If the steps weren't so numerous and narrow and pitched into darkness, I would've fled at a sprint. Instead, I could do nothing but brace a hand on the stone and descend against the sound of his warm, rolling laughter.

*

The Walrus had stationed a guard outside the door to my chambers, some stout, husky young soldier that was either stupid or knew what he was guarding and decided against wearing a shirt just in case someone slipped out and happened to catch a glimpse of that handsome face and sturdy six pack. A snake similar to Lord Yerik's tattoo inked his shoulder. Feeling my lip curl in distaste, I brushed past him and gave a couple firm knocks and a shout.

Dakota cracked the door. Recognition passed down into her dropped shoulders. She ushered me inside, her wet hair dripping water on the floor. In the sweet, perfumed scent of tidy sleeping gowns and freshly scrubbed faces, I finally realized how wretched I looked, and smelled, and felt.

"Waters kinda gross," Dakota said, wrinkling her nose as if she sensed my thoughts. "I'll send the hunk outside to fetch us some for you."

I nodded. As she removed herself to give the demon a hard time, I took my first look at softened eyes and full stomachs. Much to Shail's delight, every inch of floor space had been covered in mattresses and pillows like some sorry sleepover.  The crag cat lounged in the center with all the attention in the world, his eyes half-closed as the light from the balcony warmed his thick hide. There was a little chattering and laughter but it died as the others came to see me.

Val stood, damp red hair drying at odd angles. "What's going on, Tay? What'd the King say? What's the ceremony?"

"He says we're safe," I said, and smiled. "We can get you better rooms tomorrow. You might still have to share, but it won't be like this."

"You don't really have to marry us, do you?"

Dakota bopped my shoulder. "No offense, Tay, but I want absolutely nothing to do with you on my, or your, special day."

"I don't want this either," I said. "I'd release you all now if I could. Turns out we're not quite out of the woods. I don't have anything to my name. I can't support you. I can't give you land or jobs or protection." I wasn't sure I'd be able to protect myself, come hunt's end, but here I stood. I tried to look confident as I spoke. "But I will. I can. There are ways. I've got to go see one of them now. The important thing to know is that you're safe. You can sleep tonight."

I fumbled my way through a few questions, all of which had to do with the marriage ceremony. None of us held any hope of it being a gentle affair. At some point a litany of servants, all women, I noted with a sick feeling in my stomach, brought fresh water and curtained off a basin for me to sink into.

"What's the plan for the nights after?" Dakota asked as I scrubbed the Hunt from my chest and shoulders. She had clean clothes for me: a heavy but simple dress I felt funny sliding on in the moments after.

"Still sorting it out," I told her, "I don't even know what the hell a ceremony contains."

"Sex, blood, or both." Her eyes were fixed on the filthy water. "In this primitive hellhole, I'm betting both."

"Whatever it is I hope it's something we can lie about doing," I agreed, then beckoned her close and whispered in her ear the king's plan.

She listened through pursed lips. Her opinion of Chiro seemed confirmed as she swore about him then asked, "You said no, right?"

"Said I'd sleep on it."

She frowned. "If you're looking for me to confirm you insanity, I'd say marry the king and pop out baby so we can live better lives. Lemme ask you this though: when has a deal with a demon ever worked in a human's favor?"

*

Chiro's tower was a long walk away, but that shaded stroll felt the most like home. This was the only place here I felt safe, maybe more than I should, I thought, the king's touch a dank memory on my skin. With a dress I had no place for the knife, but I carried with me like a security blanket ninetheless. He wasn't  expecting me tonight, not that I was aware, but he answered almost the moment I knocked.

The man had just a thin shirt over his pants. I could see dark bruises and clotted, healing cuts against the creases. A couple candles burned around the room. "You better not have brought your cat. I just got a new mattress."

"Hello to you, too," I said, and pushed past him to plant myself squarely in his desk chair. He had paper out, a quill set in ink. I pushed them further across the smooth surface, then laid my arms and head down. The door shut. Chiro padded beside me. The wood shifted slightly as he sat on the far edge and leaned his shoulder against the wall.

Honestly, I wasn't sure which one of us it was that sighed.