Claimed By The King(s) Of Kings

Malric

Malric adjusted the high, embroidered collar of his doublet, a faint, cold smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he peered down through the dense underbrush. On the damp, moss-covered earth below lay Travis. Unconscious, disheveled, and looking thoroughly pathetic.

A royal did not squander an advantage, and Malric held every card in his hand. The boy stirred as his dark lashes fluttered open and his hands instinctively flew to his throbbing temple where a bloody knot was already purpling beneath his messy hair.

”Oh, look who finally decided to join us,” Malric drawled, his voice dropping into that smooth, deceptively gentle cadence he used when he was about to twist a blade.

He was the one who had loosed that arrow that brought Travis tumbling down. Malric had purposely got Travis alone; they were going a totally opposite direction from the location of the real bear. This was the plan, a golden opportunity for the princes to finally, personally get the information they wanted out of the person they hated most in the world. This hunt was their absolute last window of opportunity. The royal brothers were done playing subtle parlor games. If the school wouldn’t wring the truth out of him, they would simply subject Travis to a living, breathing hell for the duration of the hunt until he finally cracked and gave up some information about their mate. It was a crude, ruthless plan, perhaps beneath their pedigree, but Malric was certain that under enough pressure, even the most stubborn lock would break.

Travis groaned, blinking against the filtered sunlight, his eyes finally tracking up to Malric’s towering figure. ”You shot that arrow, didn’t you?” he rasped, his voice thick with pain.

”Bingo,” Malric purred.

Above him, perched like sleek birds of prey on their majestic mounts, his brothers burst into dark, unfeeling laughter. The sound echoed mockingly through the tall pines. ”Now get up,” Malric commanded, his blue eyes narrowing as he nudged Travis’s shoe with his polished boot. ”We need to hunt. We’re not losing this tournament because of your frailty.”

Travis let out a bitter, breathy laugh, wincing as the sound rattled in his chest. ”Damn it... I hate you.”

”The sentiment is mutual,” Malric replied smoothly, not offering a single hand to assist him.

Travis pushed himself up, every single movement an agonizing battle. Malric watched with sharp, clinical interest. Every part of Travis’ body was clearly screaming in agony; even the simple strap that was wrapped around his hand seemed to cause him excruciating pain as he flexed his fingers, meaning he probably broke another bone in that hand or... nope, no or, he broke a bone. He barely managed to get back on his feet without his knees buckling.

”Yeah,” Travis grunted, his teeth gritted so hard his jaw quivered. ”I sprained my ankle.” Vance leaned forward over his saddle horn, a cruel, mocking smile playing on his sharp lips. ”Doesn’t a sprain heal fast with a wolf?”

Travis glared up at him through a curtain of sweaty hair. ”No, idiot! I have been wearing a cast for a month. Is it not clear and evident to everybody that my wolf is slow as heck?” Vance rolled his shoulders, utterly unimpressed by his flare of temper. ”Whatever. We’re going to be on horseback anyway.”

Travis paused, his eyes darting around the empty clearing with a sudden wave of panic. ”Thinking about my horse... where is it? Because last I remember, it ran off.” Vance let out a theatrical sigh, tapping his chin with a leather-gloved finger. ”Oh, yeah. That did happen. You’ll be walking, it seems.”

Without another word of sympathy, Malric turned toward his own charger, smoothly swinging himself up into the saddle with grace. ”We don’t have long. We need to catch the bear, and we’ve just found the absolute perfect bait.” Travis froze, his hand still plastered against his injured ribs. ”There’s... there’s actually a bear?”

Malric looked down at him from his elevated perch, his blue eyes striking and void of warmth. ”Yeah, of course there’s a bear. It’s just not on this side of the ridge. It’s on the other side. And you will be the perfect bait with you bleeding and everything from the head.”

”Yep,” Theo said turning his horse around.

The group began to move, the heavy hooves of the steeds churning the soft forest soil. Travis was left behind, literally dragging his sprained foot through the dirt, panting heavily as he tried to keep up with their brisk pace. Malric glanced over his shoulder after barely fifty paces. Watching him limp like a dying hound was mildly entertaining, but the sheer inefficiency of it grated on his at his nerves.

”No, this is stupid,” Malric snapped, reining his horse to a sharp halt. ”At the rate we are going now, it’s going to take us thirty years to get anywhere.” He cut his eyes toward Theo. ”Theo. Put the boy on your horse.” Theo snapped his head around, his sharp jaw clenching. ”No. I am not doing that.”

Malric’s eyes flashed with authority. ”Dude, as much as I enjoy watching him suffer, we are not going to get to that bear in time. Someone will get there before us and we will not win this tournament. We kind of still need to win this tournament, unless you want our parents breathing down our necks for failing a basic hunt.” Theo grumbled a foul string of curses beneath his breath, but he knew Malric was right. With an exasperated huff, he brought his massive stallion to a halt and swung himself down to the ground. He stalked over to where Travis was leaning against a rock, gasping for breath.

”Travis,” Theo spat out, pointing a stiff finger at the leather saddle. ”Get on the back of my horse.” Travis blinked up at him, his eyes wide with suspicion. ”Really?” Theo crossed his muscular arms over his chest. ”Get up.”

”You’re not planning on pushing me off?” he asked, his voice laced with distrust. ”As much as I would love to do that... no,” Theo growled, grabbing him by the back of Travis shirt. With zero gentleness, he hoisted him up and hauled him over the saddle, swinging himself up behind him to keep him firmly pinned between his arms.

Malric watched the display with a laugh growing in his chest and a slight curl on his upper lip. ”They look like the perfect couple.” he muttered, kicking his horse into a brisk canter.

They rode deeper into the dense, shadow-draped valleys of the forest, where the air grew damp and smelled of decaying pine needles and stone. Finally, Malric raised a gloved hand, signaling a halt. His wolf stirred beneath his skin, reading the sudden shift in the wind. ”Stop,” Malric whispered, his voice dropping into a harsh, commanding tone. ”Get off your horses. We hide in the bushes.”

They dismounted swiftly, tethering the steeds in a thick tangle of ferns before crouching low behind a wall of dense brambles overlooking a wide, rocky clearing.

Malric turned his head toward Travis, brushing a stray leaf off his tunic. ”Okay. Go up.” Travis stared at him as if he had lost his mind. ”What?”

”Go to the center of the clearing and just stand there,” Malric said plainly. ”No!” Travis hissed, his voice trembling with indignation. ”You’re going to let me die out there!”

”No, you have a bow and arrow, idiot,” Malric snapped back, his patience wearing razor-thin. ”Use it. Keep yourself alive until we come in.” Vance chimed in from behind a cluster of dark ivy, a taunting grin on his face. ”And that bow and arrow is definitely from Elim. Doesn’t it hit anything on target?” Theo’s eyes narrowed as he eyed the fine, glowing weapon slung across Travis’s back. ”Now that I think about it... where did you get it?” Travis instantly scrambled to his feet, his hands flying up defensively. ”Okay, okay! I’ll go, I’ll go!” Malric handed him a silver whistle before he stepped out completely. ”Blow this the second you spot it,” he instructed.

Travis, nodded reluctantly, before limping away to the covering clearing totally out of the sight of the prince’s.

”So,” Theo muttered, leaning back on his heels, ”where are the bears? I feel relaxed.” Malric knelt, dropping his gloved hand flat against the damp earth. He closed his eyes, letting his senses bleed down into the dirt, feeling for the rhythmic, heavy thuds of massive paws. ”I can feel the vibration,” Malric murmured. ”The blood... the bear is definitely smelling the blood from your head. It should be here any second.”

From a few paces back, Keali was leaning lazily against the bark of a high tree. His eyes were half-closed, but his expression was eerily blank.

”Ten bears,” Keali said softly. The princes instantly turned their heads, glaring back at him. ”What?” Theo growled under his breath. ”Ten bears,” Keali repeated smoothly, his voice devoid of any humor. ”I can feel six different bears. One’s a winter bear... Three Southern bears. And the others are ghoul bears.”

A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the bushes. ”Ghoul Bears?” Vance echoed, his voice dropping an octave as his eyes widened. ”What are you talking about?” Malric pressed his palm harder into the dirt, his brows drawing into a deep, frustrated line. ”I’m only sensing one bear. A winter bear.”

Keali shrugged casually, not even bothered to shift his weight off the tree. ”Okay. Then there’s one bear.” Malric snapped his head around, his blue eyes flashing dangerously. ”Keali, I am so serious right now. What are you feeling?”

”The vibration on the floor,” Keali replied, pointing a lazy finger toward the earth. ”I can feel them. They’re there. I can feel the ten bears. And I see Ghoul Bears, when I close my eyes. I can’t explain how I can see them.” Malric’s blood ran cold. Standard bears were child’s play for royal blood. But ghoul bears?