Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
I’ve planned and booked a trip to Provence for us both. We’ll learn about the history of perfuming, visit masters of the craft, and other places related to Corvus’s interest in perfume, while also sleeping in a castle and eating amazing food.
I knew he’d be delighted, but he borderline climbs me, happy as a kid that’s gotten the car of his dreams for his sixteenth birthday, and while his joy is all the reward I need, I am also very keen to unpack my own gift.
The package isn’t too heavy, but I place it on the bed for convenience, then rip apart the wrapping paper. Inside is a simple cardboard box, which soon reveals a crossbow belonging on the wall of some medieval lord. It has fancy carvings and everything!
“For today’s hunt,” Corvus tells me and traces his finger over a little plaque featuring our initials and the date of our wedding.
My heart melts. He knows how hard I’ve been practicing with the crossbow since I learned that it’s the weapon used at the hunt. “I love you so much! We’ll be getting all the trophies with this!” I test it out in my hands to get accustomed to the weight.
Corvus raises his brows with a smirk. “Someone’s getting competitive.”
“Oh, it’s because of Damen. He’s been talking about how he’ll bring the most heads, and a part of me wants to prove him wrong.”
Corvus stays silent for a bit too long, and when his gaze blurs, I know he’s thinking back to everything that happened during the prior holiday season, and my refusal to accompany him into the cellar. He’s been visiting Kemper since our arrival, and as much as I hate the guy, I wasn’t sure if I had the stomach to see what Corvus is doing. I keep being overfed to the point of nausea since we arrived, and I don’t want to embarrass myself in case what Corvus does to him is more than I can handle.
“This time, they all really deserve to be there,” he says and slides close to me.
I quickly put away my new pride and joy to pull him in for a hug. He still struggles expressing his feelings, but he’s once confessed how much he loves being embraced by me, and I’ve since been dishing out hugs every chance I get.
“I owed a ridiculous amount of money and tried to leave town. I know now that I was framed, but you shouldn’t feel guilty about any of it. Maybe about the cage in your house and tazing me,” I tease and kiss the side of his head as he scowls.
“I won’t stop feeling guilty, no matter how many times you say that. Just let me stew in my discomfort and enjoy all the benefits,” my man mumbles and approaches his winter camo set. The hunt will start in fifteen minutes.
“Oh, I can do that!” I laugh and put on my own jacket. “Can’t wait to enjoy all the benefits later tonight." I pat his ass on the way to the door, crossbow in hand.
Is this Christmas hunt the freakiest, most savage family tradition I’ve ever heard of? Sure. But do I still want to take part? Absolutely.
I’ve embraced being a Van der Horn to the point of taking on Corvus’s last name. I am a new man now. My husband offered me a fresh start, and I enjoy all that’s involved. Sometimes, this means having Sunday dinners with Daphne, or meeting up with Corvus’s cousins. Sometimes it’s favors for the family’s leader, Karl Van der Horn. And sometimes, we dispatch the family’s enemies in a ritual that brings us all together.
On our way downstairs, I briefly carry one of Alexandra’s kids on my shoulders, but the children have their own entertainment (far away from the hunt), so I soon wave them goodbye and follow Corvus outside, where all those participating, and their cheerleaders, are already waiting.
The frosty air pinches my skin, so I pull up my scarf a little bit higher as we wait, offering the prey a chance to hide before the Van der Horns start their pursuit.
“Do you have the head bag?” Killian asks Damen, double-checking the strap of his husband’s crossbow. He usually has his head in the clouds, and he’s nowhere as involved in the family business as me, but looks like he’s in a hunting frenzy too. He’s even forgotten his hat, and if he was a target, his green hair would have made him easy prey.
“I have everything I need, mon chéri,” Damen says and mounts his horse, looking like a modern-day prince charming.
Roger bursts out of the mansion, red-faced and huffing as though he’s been running. Aspen’s following him like a puppy.
“But dad! You said I could be a helper, like last year.”
Roger shakes his head. “And what did you do last year? I told you not to shoot!”