Merry Christmas, darlings! I hope you had a fantastic year and are gearing up to have a delightful holiday season. May the rest of your year be filled with love and happiness.

If you’re looking for a new book to help you recover after the busy holiday, I have just the thing. The Huntsman’s Revenge releases on December 26th. It’s the second book in the Huntsman Series, and while it can stand alone, it’s best enjoyed after you read Curse of the Huntsman’s Jewel since it follows the wicked queen. Her actions in Book One are difficult to justify but giving her a chance at redemption seemed like the most logical step. I think it worked out well too.

To celebrate this new release, I’ve added a little teaser for you here. Check it out and let me know what you think. You can pre-order it from all retailers. I’ll have a print version ready by the end of December. Thank you for all your support and love. I couldn’t have done it without you.

Once upon a time, the huntsman loved the queen, until she betrayed him and the entire kingdom of Revaria.

Rumors of Queen Emery’s power had become legend. The wicked queen cursed those who bore the Inkling and enslaved their animus. But there is more to her story than the ever-changing whispers flowing through the villages.

Overthrown and banished by her daughter, the queen surrenders at the mercy of her huntsman, Rowan…the man she once loved. Seeking shelter in the sacred village of his ancestors, Rowan unravels the complicated past he shares with Emery in an effort to redeem not only himself but the fallen queen.

But when Emery vanishes, her loyal huntsman must sacrifice everything to save her…if she can be saved. Can the wicked truly find redemption?

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Chapter One

“…and with the glittering jewel, the princess bound his heart and body to her forever.”

– The Legend of the Huntsman

The Princess

Run! Emery pushed her horse faster, dodging branches, slipping through narrow trails to escape the darkness plaguing her.

The moment she’d broken away from her brother’s small party, her heart sang. Finally. It had taken little effort to slip from sight, and by the time he realized her absence, Emery could barely hear the shouts echoing behind her.

Urging her horse into a canter, she wove deeper into the forest at the foot of the mountains. The wind tugged her cloak and pulled the hood from her head, the white fabric flowing behind her like a flag signaling her defiance.

She craved nothing more than this. Freedom.

As much as she loved her brother, his overbearing nature sometimes left her choking, gasping for air. He took his duties seriously, always hovering, always watching. Fortunately, when he deigned to leave the confines of the castle, he often took her with him to the village. But it was a truly rare occasion when he allowed her to join him on a trip beyond the edge of Sapphire Lake.

Emery longed to travel beyond the village of Highfalls, even though her parents scoffed at her naïve desire. She was not the only one trapped, expected to set an example, to one day rule the kingdom with authority and grace. Her brother, too, suffered these same harsh expectations.

Overbearing sycophants. Emery sniffed, pushing aside thoughts of her family and the heavy responsibilities on her young, royal shoulders.

She slowed her horse to a walk when the trees parted to reveal a rock-lined path leading into the mountains. A small stream flowed from the mountains, and the soothing sound of a waterfall reached her ears. She directed her mount into a narrow clearing, following the soothing sound.

A branch snapped in the distance, the crack loud enough to break through her thoughts over the waterfall’s din. She narrowed her gaze, focusing on the shadowed tree line.

“Hello?” she called, hoping it was a deer or another docile forest creature.

Her heart stopped. A wolf stepped into the clearing, his dark head a stain against the pristine grass surrounding him. Three more wolves stepped into the light behind it. As they prowled closer, their yellow eyes fixed on her, their jaws snapping with unrestrained hunger.

Sensing the approaching danger, the mare danced beneath her, agitated by the predators’ presence. She attempted to soothe the horse with soft words and turned, seeking escape. But four more wolves stepped into the clearing behind her.

No escape. She’d walked into a trap. Fear slid along her spine.

She cursed, wishing she had more than the small, thin blade tucked into her bodice. It would do nothing against a pack of wolves.

The leader bared its teeth with a low growl, fur rippling with every step as it approached.

She tightened her grip on the reins as a wolf lunged. The terrified horse reared, knocking her from the saddle to the soft grass beside the stream before bolting to an open space across the field, kicking two wolves who gave chase.

Emery landed on her backside, half hidden in the grass. Her hand trembled as she withdrew the small blade and prepared to strike.

The remaining wolves surrounded her. Their growls nearly disappeared beneath the sound of the waterfall at her back. The flow of the water over the rocks had been soothing before, but now it dampened the sound of oncoming danger. She gripped the dagger in her fist, knowing it would be futile against the wolves’ attack, but she refused to surrender without a fight.

Climbing to her feet, she faced them.

Two wolves approached her from either side, forming a half circle around her, trapping her against the water and the mountain. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. She would die here.

Regret stabbed her heart at the thought of such a tragic, empty end.

Pushing her fear aside, Emery gritted her teeth. If she was meeting her end here, she would take at least two of them with her. Readjusting the blade in her grip, she braced herself for an oncoming battle.

A cry ripped from her throat as the wolves seized the moment and charged her. In the distance, something echoed her shout. Sharp and loud, it pierced the air, distracting the wolves and bringing them to a halt just beyond her reach.

Two enormous cats bounded into the meadow. Their sleek hides reflected the sunlight, one black as midnight, the other shades of gold flecked from nose to tail with black spots. A panther and a jaguar, animals she’d never seen before as they had long since abandoned the forests of her homeland. She held her breath as they stalked forward with predatory grace, their sights set on the four wolves who had her cornered, their teeth bared.

Abandoning her, the wolves turned their efforts to defending themselves against the two cats.

Emery flinched as the golden jaguar pounced on the nearest wolf with flashing teeth. Two wolves broke away and rounded on the black panther.

It was difficult to see amid the tall grasses and clash of claws and fur. She scrambled back until her feet splashed in the stream. She needed to escape.

Run.

She climbed out of the stream, struggling with her damp skirts, and darted for the trees. If she could reach the path, she could find her way home before the wolves or the cats came for her.

Heart pounding, she ran, still gripping the dagger. When she reached the shade of the trees, a howl shook the leaves above her. Gooseflesh prickled her arms. Sliding to a stop, Emery took shelter behind a large elm tree. Carefully, she peered into the meadow, breathless and trembling, searching for any sign of the beasts.

Nothing.

The meadow was still, the grasses waving as though they hadn’t been disturbed. The sun shone down and the distant sound of trickling water filtered through the thick trees.

Where had they gone?

Emery’s gaze shifted to the towering trees surrounding her.

“Princess,” a man called.

One of the palace guards? Relief flooded her as she raced toward the sound.

“Here.” She darted through the forest, her heart thundering in her chest. “I’m here.”

Two figures stepped out of the shadows, blocking her path. She skidded to a halt, dagger still firm in her hand. Both men wore disheveled huntsman leathers and loose tunics. They looked as though they’d dressed in a hurry, clothes disheveled, hair mussed.

She recognized neither of them. They weren’t from the palace or the village.

They watched her carefully.

“Are you well, Princess?” One of the men reached out a hand, beckoning to her, his green eyes flashing in the dappled sunlight. When she refused to take his hand, he ran it through his raven hair.

“You know who I am?” Emery asked, keeping her distance.

“Aye, we know,” the other man said, his dark eyes hesitant but not unkind. “You are safe with us.”

“Who are you to make such a promise?”

The pair exchanged a long look. These men were unfamiliar to her, and even with their kind eyes and gentle assurance, she remained skeptical of their intentions.

“My name is Rowan.” The raven-haired man stepped closer. “This is my brother, Silas.”

His companion nodded a greeting, and the sun caught shades of gold in his dark brown hair. They were both strongly built and handsome as sin.

Emery’s confidence faltered as they studied her. “You are not from Revaria?”

Rowan shook his head. “We are travelers passing through on our way to the mountains.”

“Huntsmen by trade. We heard your cry for help.” Silas noted the way she searched the trees. “The wolves have gone. You have nothing to fear.”

“What of the cats?” she asked.

Rowan and Silas exchanged a long, measured glance.

“We heard the attack, just through there.” Silas pointed to the south of the meadow. “Are you certain you saw cats?”

“My horse threw me, but I did not hit my head. I know what I saw.” She licked her lips, trying to steady her breathing. “A panther and jaguar. They fought the wolves.”

Silas dropped his gaze, but Rowan chuckled. “Must be luck. There haven’t been sightings of either beast in the six kingdoms for a hundred years.”

A derisive laugh broke from her lips. “No one will believe me.”

“Allow us to escort you back to the castle.” Rowan offered his arm.

Emery took it, leaning into his strength as they slowly wandered through the forest. Silas followed behind them, and when they reached the narrow path, he came alongside her. Between the two of them, she was able to breathe again, certain nothing would dare attack with these two capable huntsmen flanking her.

As though summoned from her thoughts, a wolf burst through the trees, its yellow eyes trained on her alone.

Silas grabbed her arm and pulled her behind them. He and Rowan blocked the wolf’s attack.

Rowan’s cry ripped her soul as the wolf’s open jaws fastened on his arm. Silas seized the opening, driving his blade deep into the beast’s neck. Rowan and the wolf tumbled to the ground in a bloody heap.

Emery kneeled beside Rowan as Silas pulled the dead wolf away. “Your arm.” The mangled skin and muscle lay in strips where the beast had torn it from the bone. She swayed at the sight of macerated flesh and crimson blood. She pulled her cloak from her shoulders and wrapped it around the wound.

“He needs help.” Her gaze met Silas’s.

“I’ll go,” he said, his expression grim. “Remain here.”

Emery watched, helpless, as Silas ran down the path, disappearing around the corner. She held her dagger close as she scanned the trees for threats. Rowan drew a deep breath, and her attention shifted to his pale cheeks.

“What can I do?” she whispered, searching his green eyes.

“Stay with me.” He hissed at the pain in his arm. “Silas will return soon.”

“But what if he—”

“He will return.” A smile curved his lips before he winced again, shifting uncomfortably beneath her touch.

“Shh. Save your strength.”

Emery stroked his cheek with a fingertip and brushed the hair from his forehead. He closed his eyes as if to block the pain.

Helplessness gripped her conscience, making her bite her lip. His thoughtfulness had saved her life, and guilt slowly wrapped around her heart. Had she remained with her brother, had she obeyed her father, none of this would have happened.

Tears pooled in her eyes. “Forgive me,” she murmured, allowing tears to fall.

Rowan groaned, his face pale. He was fading, weakening with each passing moment.

Through panic and tears, she searched the forest around them. Nothing.

“Help!” she shouted. “Someone…help!”

Shadows shifted on the path in the distance. Hope flared in her chest.

“Is someone there? Can you help us? He’s been injured.” Emery bit her lip, praying she was not imagining movement in the trees.

A figure appeared, wearing a deep gray cloak with the hood pulled over their head. Their pace quickened when they spotted Emery beside the fallen huntsman. When the figure reached her, they pulled back the hood.

Emery blinked with recognition.

“Cardel.” She studied the alchemist’s gray hair and deep blue eyes. On the several occasions he’d come to the castle at the request of her father, she hadn’t spoken to him, but he nodded in greeting and recognition.

“Allow me.” He gestured to Rowan.

Emery moved to the other side of the huntsman.

The alchemist unwrapped the wounded arm, his face unreadable as he inspected the injury. He placed the huntsman’s arm on the blood-soaked cloak and reached into his satchel. He withdrew a small glass bottle filled with shimmering blue liquid. After placing a few drops on the huntsman’s lips, he returned the bottle to the bag and withdrew another.

Emery watched in fascination and relief as the huntsman’s eyes fluttered open. A flurry of nervous excitement pulsed through her at the miracle unfolding before her. Color returned to the man’s pale skin. He gasped, wincing as he attempted to move his arm.

“Steady,” the alchemist said, holding his arm in one hand and pouring yellow liquid over the mangled wound. Cardel closed his eyes and murmured beneath his breath.

Slowly, the wound began to visibly heal. The muscles reconnected like threads being woven together in a tapestry. The skin reformed, sealing and protecting.

Emery snapped her mouth closed in amazement at the power of the alchemist’s potions. Her gaze met his. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Princess.” He turned to the huntsman. “You are fortunate I am passing through.”

“I am in your debt, sir,” Rowan said, his voice hoarse.

“You are a huntsman?” The alchemist cocked his head.

Rowan nodded.

The alchemist slowly rotated Rowan’s arm to reveal a small network of black lines beneath the freshly healed skin.

Emery frowned. What were those marks?

Before she could ask, the alchemist leaned closer. “An Inkling.”

The mark shifted under his touch as he traced the webbed lines. They fractured like branches of lightning against a stormy sky as they moved beneath Rowan’s skin.

“Curious,” Cardel said.

Rowan stilled. “What of it?”

“Nothing.” Cardel smiled. “In exchange for saving your life, grant me some of your blood?”

“Why?” Rowan asked, his gaze focused on the alchemist.

Emery stilled, watching the interaction between the two men.

“The animus are a curious people, their secrets so guarded.”

“There is a reason for that.” Rowan growled. “What do you want with my blood?”

Cardel inclined his head. “I wish to study it, perhaps uncover the magic behind it.”

Rowan sighed. “Do I have a choice?”

“There is always a choice,” Cardel replied softly. “But I vow your secret is safe with me.”

After a tense moment, Rowan nodded his agreement.

She watched the alchemist slide a blade across the new skin. Red liquid shimmered as it dripped from the dark mark beneath Rowan’s skin into a vial. The alchemist corked the bottle and tucked it into his satchel. Then he poured more healing liquid on the small incision he’d made.

“My thanks for your aid.” Emery stood as Cardel helped Rowan to his feet.

“I am your humble servant.” He bowed low and wandered down the path toward the waterfall. She watched until he disappeared beyond a thick copse of trees.

“Princess…” Rowan’s rough voice pulled her attention from the mysterious alchemist.

“Emery.” She warmed as his bright eyes fixed on her face and a small smile appeared on his lips.

“A lovely name.” Rowan inhaled deeply, and she helped him find a comfortable position against a rock. “Thank you for your kindness.”

“Thank you for saving me.” Her gaze fell to the wolf lying in a pool of blood. When she looked back at him, Rowan’s eyes had darkened.

He turned his attention to the freshly healed wound on his arm and covered the mark with his palm.

Emery fidgeted with the stained cloak, a hundred questions racing through her mind. Relief mingled with curiosity about on the man sitting before her. An animus. She’d heard stories of huntsmen who bore the mark of the Inkling. They were myths. Legends. Monsters who dwelled in darkness.

Rowan looked nothing like a monster. He was, in fact, a handsome man. His wavy dark hair hid his eyes as he studied his arm. His fingertips traced the dark lines beneath his skin. She pursed her lips and bit back the questions forming on her tongue.

Soft strains of birdsong filtered through sun-dappled leaves. Her restraint snapped at the tension humming between them.

“You came to my rescue.” Her gentle words made him look up. “In the meadow.”

He nodded, and his handsome face, hewn from stone, betrayed no emotion.

“You bear the Inkling.” She sat beside him, her hip brushing his thigh. “May I…?”

Rowan held out his arm, brushing the shredded remnants of his tunic away to reveal the newly healed skin.

Emery moved his arm so it lay across her open palm. She studied the mark, tentatively running her fingers over the intricate pattern. The lines forked like branches of lightning in the night sky.

“Those who bear the Inkling are cursed to wander for eternity. Any huntsman with the mark finds only suffering.” Rowan’s words were quiet but steady.

“Why do you hide it?” she asked.

“To protect ourselves…not only from the world but from our own kind.” He groaned as he shifted his weight against the rock. “Most do not understand our gifts.”

She blinked at him, wonder filling her. In all her life, she’d never met someone who bore the mark. Stories from her childhood, legends and myths of the animus arose unbidden in her mind.

“What do you seek in the Whitemaw Mountains?”

Rowan sighed. “Wintermoore, the birthplace of my kind.”

“And Silas?” She licked her lips. “Will he be angry you’ve revealed your secret?”

He nodded as he held her gaze. “We are not brothers by blood, but I have known him my whole life. We’re bound together in many ways.”

“Thank you again for saving my life.” Emery placed her palm to his, intertwining their fingers. The heat of his touch pulsed through her. “I am in your debt.”

He squeezed her hand. “You owe me nothing, Princess. ’Tis I who am in your debt.”

Her body warmed with the intensity of his gaze. She lifted his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

He sucked in a breath at the contact. “What was that for?”

“I…” She turned away, her face heating with shame and embarrassment.

“Princess.” He hooked a finger beneath her chin and lifted it, forcing her to look at him. “You have nothing to fear from me, from my kind. I promise.”

“I’m not afraid.” She leaned into his touch. “Not of you.”

“Then why are you trembling?”

“Because…” Emery licked her lips, unable to form the words. Her mind rioted at the conflicting emotions inside her. All of this was so new, so raw…and yet, she could not deny a connection, a desire drawing her closer to the huntsman. “Because of the way you make me feel.”

His eyes widened and a slow smile curved his mouth as his shoulders sagged in relief.

Thunder sounded in the distance. Or was it her heart pounding inside her chest?

Rowan’s attention shifted to the road. “They have arrived.”

“Who?” Emery searched the trees, where slowly, figures on horseback materialized. Equal parts fear and relief infused her. “James.” Her brother’s name slipped from her lips.

Rowan released her hand as she rose to her feet, their quiet moment shattered by the arrival of her brother and his men. Silas rode behind one of the men and slid from the saddle the moment the horse came to a stop. He raced to Rowan’s side and dropped to his knees.

“All is well.” Rowan assured him as Silas gripped his arm, searching for the injury inflicted by the wolf.

“What…?” Silas glanced between Rowan and Emery. “It’s healed. How?”

“An alchemist.”

Rowan recounted the story, but his voice dimmed in her ears as James dismounted and tossed his reins to one of the guards.

“Emery.” His tone when he said her name scraped like a blade against stone.

He jerked his head to the side and drew her away from Silas and Rowan. She clasped her hands together and followed.

When they were alone, he rounded on her. “What the hell were you thinking racing off like that?” He raked his hand through his hair. “Father will be furious.”

“Then don’t tell him.”

“After this”—he gestured to Rowan as Silas helped him to his feet—“I have no choice.”

“What do you mean?” She pressed her hand to her chest where tendrils of fear crept higher to wrap around her throat.

“You abandoned safety for your own selfish amusement.” He sighed. “This man told me he and his brother found you surrounded by wolves. How they managed to fend off a pack of wolves, I know not, but they—and you—are fortunate to have survived such an attack.”

Silas did not reveal their secret. She could not reveal it, not for her own defense. There was nothing to defend. She’d acted carelessly, recklessly, and these two men came to her aid. Even though she could not take back the actions that caused so much pain, she could mend the rift, if only to keep her brother from uncovering the truth and divulging it to their father.

“I was wrong.” Emery hung her head. “Please forgive me, brother.”

James released a heavy sigh. “I must tell Father something.”

“Tell him of the attack. Say Rowan and Silas came to our aid.” She purposely left out the details of the incident. “They are huntsmen, and they protected me.”

“You sound as though Father should offer them positions as your personal guard.” He scoffed.

“He should.” The selfish idea took root in her mind. “It would be an honor to have two such loyal huntsmen as my personal guard.”

James narrowed his eyes, shaking her confidence, but she held her ground. He shook his head. “If they can make you listen to reason, then perhaps it would be worthwhile.”

“You will speak to Father then?” she asked, hope unfurling within her.

“Come. We will speak to him together.” He gestured for her to mount his horse.

One of the guards gave Rowan his horse, and they retreated to the safety of the castle. Darkness would fall before they reached the gates, but Emery feared neither the darkness nor the wolves prowling the forest.

She looked at the man riding beside her. Rowan.

Could it be she was taken with a man she’d only just met? A huntsman. An animus.

He smiled, and fear slunk into the shadows once more.

Whatever this was, she wanted it.

She wanted him.

When she looked to his companion, she found Silas watching her watching Rowan. His dark eyes danced with questions, but his face remained impassive in the fading light. He turned his attention back to the road.

Emery did the same, unwilling to face the prospect of failure…or heartache, should her plea fall on deaf ears.