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The wreath of white flowers settled on my head, cool petals brushing my temples as my maids wove black tendrils of my hair through the branches. They fussed and murmured about how pretty I looked—how lovely a bride I made. I tried to pretend I didn’t hear them, but the entire village had been holding its breath for this day. The day Grimr would finally claim his bride. We had been betrothed since we were youngsters.
It was tradition, of course, to be captured.
Even so, I couldn’t help smiling. The simple white gown felt light on my body, and my bare feet pressed comfortably into the earth I’d grown up running across. These woods were mine long before they were Grimr’s hunting ground. I knew I wouldn’t be easy prey. It wasn’t good to be too easy, nor too difficult. There was an art to being a sweet catch—a timely one.
The Gothi lifted his hands and gave his blessing, and I bolted. My head start carried me far ahead of Grimr, and the thrill of it made my blood sing. But even with the tradition in mind, a prickle crawled up my spine. As though something watched me. Judged me. Was I not fast enough?
I glanced back. No sign of Grimr yet. Relief fluttered in my chest, but the unease didn’t diminish. My heart hammered anyway, urging me onward. I ran unfettered, fleet of foot, until the river’s rush filled my ears. I paused at the bank, breathing quick, and looked back again.
There—Grimr’s pale hair flashed between the trees as he sprinted toward me.
“Haethr!” he laughed. “I have already found you!”
“You have not caught me yet, husband!” I called back, laughing as I splashed through the shallowest part of the river. Cold water clung to my gown, plastering it to my skin until it turned nearly sheer. I heard Grimr’s sharp intake of breath behind me.
“Gods above,” he murmured, and I felt heat rise in my cheeks as I darted deeper into the woods.
Clouds gathered overhead, swallowing what little light remained. Shadows thickened, and the first drops of rain pattered through the canopy. Slowly at first—then the sky split open, and the downpour crashed around me. An ill omen, some would say. Grimr never cared for such things, but the thought wormed its way into my mind.
I kept running, though my feet slipped in the forming mud. I braced against a tree, breath ragged, my pace slowing despite my will. The eerie feeling returned, stronger now. The hair on the back of my neck rose. Blood roared in my ears.
I looked back just as lightning cracked across the sky.
Grimr was running—then another flash—and he was down. A dark form crouched over him. Another flash revealed a spray of red. Thunder rolled so close it shook my bones.
I stared, frozen, horror sealing my throat shut. The creature lifted its head toward me. Lightning struck again.
It changed.
What had been bestial transformed into a towering man, blood dripping from his mouth, down his chest and abdomen, from his hands as well. His eyes glowed—unnatural, iridescent, reflecting the storm’s fury.
The lighthearted game shattered into terror.
My scream tore free at last, a high, thin sound swallowed by thunder as I ran. I didn’t think. I didn’t breathe. I only fled, desperate to reach the village. To reach safety. Surely someone could… could what? Kill that thing? What kind of power would it take to stop a creature like that?
Stones sliced into my bare feet, but I didn’t slow. Warm blood marked my trail. A roar ripped through the forest, vibrating in my bones. My answering scream felt small and pitiful.
Then the world tilted.
Something slammed into my back, and I hit the ground face‑first, mud filling my mouth. My flower crown tumbled ahead of me, my black hair falling around my face in a wild curtain. Fire lanced across my back—hot, sharp, and blinding.
“HELP!” I screamed, clawing at the sodden earth.
Rough, enormous hands seized my dress, and I was dragged back. Fingers weaved themselves into my hair, causing pinpricks of pain as he pulled my head back. The angle forced my back to bend cruelly, and his lips brushed against my ear.
“Oh look. I’ve caught my bride.”
It was tradition, of course, to be captured.
Even so, I couldn’t help smiling. The simple white gown felt light on my body, and my bare feet pressed comfortably into the earth I’d grown up running across. These woods were mine long before they were Grimr’s hunting ground. I knew I wouldn’t be easy prey. It wasn’t good to be too easy, nor too difficult. There was an art to being a sweet catch—a timely one.
The Gothi lifted his hands and gave his blessing, and I bolted. My head start carried me far ahead of Grimr, and the thrill of it made my blood sing. But even with the tradition in mind, a prickle crawled up my spine. As though something watched me. Judged me. Was I not fast enough?
I glanced back. No sign of Grimr yet. Relief fluttered in my chest, but the unease didn’t diminish. My heart hammered anyway, urging me onward. I ran unfettered, fleet of foot, until the river’s rush filled my ears. I paused at the bank, breathing quick, and looked back again.
There—Grimr’s pale hair flashed between the trees as he sprinted toward me.
“Haethr!” he laughed. “I have already found you!”
“You have not caught me yet, husband!” I called back, laughing as I splashed through the shallowest part of the river. Cold water clung to my gown, plastering it to my skin until it turned nearly sheer. I heard Grimr’s sharp intake of breath behind me.
“Gods above,” he murmured, and I felt heat rise in my cheeks as I darted deeper into the woods.
Clouds gathered overhead, swallowing what little light remained. Shadows thickened, and the first drops of rain pattered through the canopy. Slowly at first—then the sky split open, and the downpour crashed around me. An ill omen, some would say. Grimr never cared for such things, but the thought wormed its way into my mind.
I kept running, though my feet slipped in the forming mud. I braced against a tree, breath ragged, my pace slowing despite my will. The eerie feeling returned, stronger now. The hair on the back of my neck rose. Blood roared in my ears.
I looked back just as lightning cracked across the sky.
Grimr was running—then another flash—and he was down. A dark form crouched over him. Another flash revealed a spray of red. Thunder rolled so close it shook my bones.
I stared, frozen, horror sealing my throat shut. The creature lifted its head toward me. Lightning struck again.
It changed.
What had been bestial transformed into a towering man, blood dripping from his mouth, down his chest and abdomen, from his hands as well. His eyes glowed—unnatural, iridescent, reflecting the storm’s fury.
The lighthearted game shattered into terror.
My scream tore free at last, a high, thin sound swallowed by thunder as I ran. I didn’t think. I didn’t breathe. I only fled, desperate to reach the village. To reach safety. Surely someone could… could what? Kill that thing? What kind of power would it take to stop a creature like that?
Stones sliced into my bare feet, but I didn’t slow. Warm blood marked my trail. A roar ripped through the forest, vibrating in my bones. My answering scream felt small and pitiful.
Then the world tilted.
Something slammed into my back, and I hit the ground face‑first, mud filling my mouth. My flower crown tumbled ahead of me, my black hair falling around my face in a wild curtain. Fire lanced across my back—hot, sharp, and blinding.
“HELP!” I screamed, clawing at the sodden earth.
Rough, enormous hands seized my dress, and I was dragged back. Fingers weaved themselves into my hair, causing pinpricks of pain as he pulled my head back. The angle forced my back to bend cruelly, and his lips brushed against my ear.
“Oh look. I’ve caught my bride.”