SeducingtheHuntress by Mel Teshco

even say goodbye.
    The gelding tossed his head, bringing her back to the
present. She relaxed her too-tight grip on the reins and leaned forward, giving
the horse a reassuring pat.
    She had to stop thinking about Reuben. Being a nightmix, he
would never have been a permanent fixture in her life anyway, no matter how
much she might wish otherwise. Being royalty made him ten times as out of
reach.
    A bird called out before it took to the air with a snap of
wings. Bees droned overhead, the scent of pine and honey sharp in the air. Wood
smoke bit into the air, and though she couldn’t see or hear any human activity,
without a doubt lookouts would have seen her coming long ago and warned her dad.
    Would her father see the change in her? Would her friends?
Dear lord, did she want them to?
    The huts looked out of place on the hillside, worn and made
tired by the elements, much like the people.
    She swallowed, longing for the enduring log cabin she’d left
behind, along with the man within it. One of her hands fluttered to her chest.
When had the nightmix suddenly become a man?
    When I finally saw him for the real person he is
underneath. A compassionate, kindhearted person who’d do anything for the
people he loves.
    As her thoughts wandered she let the weary gelding pick its
way through the grass and to the worn trail that led to her father’s house. The
two-story structure was the only real house in the village, their merchant
background giving them the funds to build something more permanent.
    But her dad had found out the hard way that no amount of
money in the world could protect the people he loved.
    She blew out a shaky breath. At least she could reassure her
father that she was alive. At least one of them would be happy at her return.
    People began to appear from their huts, their silent stares
following her as she rode past. Seemed they were stunned she’d come back alive
and in one piece. Or perhaps they sensed her despair.
    The door banged open in her house and her father appeared in
the doorway, a hand shielding his eyes from the sun as he watched her approach.
Even from a distance she could see his bleary eyes. Goddess, he looked as if
he’d aged a decade, his usually neatly trimmed beard scruffy and unkempt, his
face lined and hollow.
    One of his dogs barked greeting from its kennel nearby, its
tail whipping the air. Then her father was running toward her, reaching her even
before she dismounted from the horse and all but fell into his arms.
    “I don’t believe it,” he said raggedly. “You’re alive.
You’re really alive!”
    At her silence and the smile she tried to muster, he drew
back and peered at her. “You’re okay, aren’t you? When we saw the blood on your
horse we thought…” He shook his head, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper.
“That nightmix didn’t find you? Didn’t touch you?”
    If he only knew, she thought despairingly.
    “Of course not,” she lied. What did it matter if she wasn’t
telling the truth? It saved a lot of turmoil and it wasn’t as if her father
would ever find out. “I’m just really tired,” she elaborated.
    “Of course you are, my darling,” he said, nodding
understanding and seemingly uncaring that his eyes were wet. “You can fill me
in on all the details after you’ve rested.” Turning to the ever growing crowd
of villagers, he pumped a fist into the air and roared, “Tomorrow night we
celebrate the return of my daughter!”
    Going by the sudden enthusiastic cheers and clapping,
everyone was all too happy to revel in her homecoming. Pity she felt nothing
short of numb and wanted only to curl into a ball and sob herself to sleep.
    Jacob motioned someone forward to take care of her mount. As
the gelding clopped away she was grateful her dad refrained from asking where
she’d found another mount. And whose extra-large shirt it was that she had on.
But she was even more grateful for his supporting arm as he led her to their
home.
    He’d organized