"The woods do not care for your titles," Gideon announced, his voice carrying over the courtyard. "They care for your skill. Today, we hunt. Tomorrow, we celebrate. Let the arrows fly true, and may the strongest claim the day."
The horn sounded—a blast so loud it made the horses rear and the hounds howl.
The Outsiders scrambled for their mounts. Charity rode a white mare with silk ribbons in its mane; HechKay a grey stallion that seemed to blend into the shadows; Kara and Morgan on fiery chestnuts.
Alaric pulled his horse—another massive, coal-black beast named Obsidian—beside Salviana's mare.
"Stay close to me," he commanded, his voice barely audible over the thunder of hooves. "The guests are drunk, the brothers are angry, and the King is watching. This isn't a hunt for deer, Salviana."
