With calming sounds, Keira soothed her stirring horse, eyes trained on August as he said his final goodbyes to the Meronis and his parents. His father patted the backside of his mare and his mother bit her lip nervously as August went to join his friends.

  Clicking her tongue, Keira manoeuvred her horse to follow and mingled with the other servants on horseback, keeping as close to August as she could without seeming conspicuous and drawing attention to them. Her stomach did a somersault at the thought.

  They were so close, and he’d worked so hard to get her into the hunt. It would not do to do anything to confirm his mother’s suspicion now, nor trigger Miles’, who cast long glances after August when he thought no one was looking.

  Holding her breath, Keira eyed the Hunt Masters, counting the beats of her heart until the second horn sounded.

  Then they were off.

  Multiple pairs of hooves thundered through the woods, the ground shaking as they flew over it and passed the lake.

  Ahead, August and his friends hollered with excitement, their lips cracked into wide grins as they challenged one another, betting on who would catch the stag – the ultimate prize of the annual hunt. Then, group by group, they began to disconnect from the others to go their own ways.

  Her heart twinged ever so slightly as she saw August’s group shoot off to her right while hers continued onwards. But it was the plan, and she had to stick to it.

  She had to keep her eyes on the others, judging and calculating the right time to disappear, when the hunt had swallowed them entirely and they no longer cared for anyone but securing the stag – any stag – for themselves.

  The moment came with a ‘Whoop!’ and a gesture in the air, and her group kicked off after the spotted prey, leaving her behind. A cloud of dust was the only thing that remained after them as Keira brought her own horse to a slower pace, smiling smugly to herself.

  Amateurs, the whole lot of them.

  They would be scaring off every animal, extending the hunt by hours upon hours.

  Perfect. It would take them ages to return.

  Clicking her tongue, she steered her horse onto a different path, trudged up by animals only, and kicked her heels. The horse took off into a trot, each step pumping excitement into her body.

  It did not take long before she reached a secluded section of the lake.

  Partly hidden by low-hanging willows was a small fisherman’s hut that had been out of use for years. She paused her horse beside it, listening for sounds, yet heard nothing but the rustle of leaves in the wind and gentle ripples of water lapping against the side of a tired-looking rowboat resting on the bank.

  Impatiently, she kicked her leg over the saddle and slid down gracefully. The moment her foot hit the ground there came a sound of rustling foliage, and her chest fluttered alive.

  Unable to suppress her excitement any longer, she turned around and beamed at the figure who had stepped out from behind the bushes, his smile mirroring her own.

  ‘Finally,’ August said. ‘Some time alone.’

  2

  CAUGHT

  ‘Did anyone see you sneak away?’ August asked and closed the door to the hut behind them.

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Keira turned to face him, nervously fumbling with her riding gloves. He stepped closer and took her hand, holding her gaze while he carefully manoeuvred her fingers free, one by one, from their leathery prison.

  ‘Good.’

  The rapid beating of her heart seemed impossible with the stillness of the moment.

  His voice lowered to a whisper. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  There. Her heart skipped a beat. Staggered and collapsed in confusion and feverish delight. They’d been meeting in secret for a while now, basking in stolen moments lived in the shadows here and there. Still, she could not believe such words to come from his lips. That this was real. That he was here, with her, looking at her like he had only done in her dreams before.

  ‘Come.’ He led her by the hand to the small bed pushed into the corner and sat down. She lowered herself with him, half by his guidance, half because she did not trust her legs to be able to stand. He cupped her face in his hand, and she leaned into it, taking in how the warm morning light lit up the auburn-coloured streaks in his pale hair. Shining in the colour of the season to which belonged his name.

  ‘It has been torture, these days apart,’ August murmured. ‘Every time I see you, I just want to kiss you. Grab you and hold you in my arms forever.’

  She closed her eyes. She knew the feeling well. For years now, she had watched him, hiding behind house corners, seeking him out. By the vines, heavy with clusters of grapes, in the cornfield working away with his father. Sometimes with his shirt on and sometimes without.

  How she had watched him, longing to be the sweat rolling down his back. Longing for him to see her as more than just a servant girl.

  She opened her eyes, finding his own still upon her. She had nearly not believed it when he sought her out at the beginning of summer. When he began to gaze at her a little longer as she handed him water. When he settled on the concrete next to her outside the stables, not saying a word, his pinkie inching closer to hers. Even less had she believed it the first time he asked her to meet in secret. And here he was, telling her he wanted to hold her like there was no tomorrow.

  ‘You could, you know,’ Keira murmured. ‘If you told your parents.’

  He pulled back, and she regretted her words instantly. Regretted the chill that filled in the space between them as a result.

  ‘I thought we’d been over this.’

  ‘I’m simply trying to understand why.’

  ‘You know why. We can’t make our relationship known until I’ve inherited Thornfell. You know my mother. She will not see you the mistress of it.’

  ‘But if you only told her how you felt… If you only...’

  ‘You rebuff me,’ August said. ‘You blame me, as if you can’t see how much it pains me to be away from you.’

  She reached for him, gripping the soft material of his velvet jacket. The rich fabric gleamed scarlet between her fingers. ‘Oh, but I do. Please, forgive me. I’m just as equally anxious to be with you.’

  At this, he turned his gaze back at her. ‘Do you really mean that?’

  She nodded vigorously, her mind scrambling for the right words to say. ‘I do. I’m so sorry. I’m being insensitive.’ She leaned into him and pressed her cheek to his chest, holding him close.

  Soon after, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. ‘It’s okay. I probably overreacted. It’s the stress of it all…the hunt…my parents…’

  Keira looked up. ‘Is there something I can do to help?’

  August hesitated for a moment, and a shade of pink crept up his throat and over the bridge of his nose. ‘There’s one thing I’ve desired for a long time now…one thing that I can’t get out of my head. One thing that would help me take the edge off.’

  She took his hands. ‘Tell me.’

  He leaned closer and caught her bottom lip between two fingers. ‘I’d really love you to…take me in your mouth.’

  She blinked, the words registering without their meaning, her mind struggling to comprehend – to believe – what he was saying. To kiss him, was that what he meant? Because surely, he wouldn’t ask her to…

  Perhaps reading the questions in her eyes, his own wandered downward and beckoned to his crotch.

  This time, the blush on her cheeks surely surpassed his. ‘But we are not married!’

  ‘But we will be. It’s only a matter of when.’

  She creased her brows and bit her lip, thinking it through. Aside from the scandal it would cause if anyone found out, she did not even know how to do…that. Unease swelled and crept through her like mud, making her insides squirm.

  She’d wanted to be with August for years, that was true. She’d even taken notes from Isolde’s escapades, as well as enjoying some fantasies of her own once or twice. But the thought of this act, of all the things there were to do, filled her with discomfort. Made her feel vulnerable. Less…confident.

  He must have seen, must have read in her eyes what she thought, as he pulled back from her. ‘I see,’ he said, and brushed off some lint from his breeches. ‘The thought disgusts you. You’re disgusted with me.’ He rose, and a pressing confusion rose in her chest along with him. ‘Well, I’m glad to know of it now, before the union between us would have been complete.’

  ‘Wait!’ she gasped and grabbed his hand. He stilled and half-turned to meet her pleading eyes. Panic coursed through her, racing almost as fast as her thoughts. He had shared something with her, and she had not responded the way he wanted. If she did this wrong, if she made the wrong choices, she could end up losing him. She could not stand the thought. It was one thing to have loved him from afar and never know what it meant to feel his lips against hers. Another entirely to have loved him and lose him. The ache of that thought alone…

  But could she do what he asked? If someone saw…if someone saw, then they would treat her no better than the Nightladies. But if they didn’t, and she and August married, then what would it matter if they did it before or after the wedding? Who would care that they explored each other’s bodies, if only a little?

  But to do it in such a way, on her knees as if she were somehow beneath him… And the act… She did not even know how to⁠—

  Discomfort and awkwardness squirmed within her, and once again it must have shown on her face, because August’s hand tugged away from hers.

  ‘I–I’ll do it!’

  He paused and turned fully. Studying her. She swallowed her unease and held his gaze, afraid he might not believe her and turn to leave again if he caught the slightest whiff of her uncertainty.

  His hands moved to the front of his breeches, carefully starting to unbuckle the buttons. ‘Are you sure?’

  She did not trust her voice not to wobble and jutted out her chin in stubborn determination instead. If this would prove her love to him, she would do it… She wouldn’t⁠—

  His breeches fell and it stood up before her. She did not know how she had expected it to look, or if she had ever considered how it would look at all. She had heard the tavern-maids gossip with the Nightladies about the different kinds they had seen. Small ones. Big ones. Ugly ones. Pretty ones. But looking at it, she could not tell whether it was one or the other. She understood, however, by the look in August’s eye that he was expecting some kind of reaction. She swallowed again. It seemed to do the trick. His mouth curved slightly, and he reached out a hand for her. She took it, letting him pull her from the bed to her feet.

  Once she stood before him, he dipped his chin and somehow, her legs obeyed and lowered her to the floor so that she was face-to-face with it. It remained in high attention, like a king before its kneeling subject. She half expected it to tap her shoulders.

  August led her hand to wrap around it. Skin against skin. The muscle was solid and hard, yet the skin was soft against her palm at the same time. Her eyes darted back up to August, who raised his brows expectantly. In your mouth, his expression seemed to say. Tilting her head towards his length, Keira parted her lips ever so slightly but hesitated by the tip, her insides squirming so terribly that she feared her jaw might clamp together and bite it if she brought it any closer.

  A musky scent filled her nose, one that smelled partly of August, partly of buckskin and sweat.

  His hand came to rest at the back of her head. It startled her, like the gun that would signal the start of the hunt, and her mouth opened and closed around him.

  A gasp escaped his lips, and his fingers dug at her skull.

  She stilled, uncertain what to do next, the edges of her mouth already pinching at the unfamiliarity of the shape within. Her tongue buckled, trying to find space to move, and August sighed and trembled against her lips. She tried to move her tongue again, with the same result.

  ‘Suckle on it,’ he whispered, and she frowned in concentration, attempting to do as he wished. Yet somehow, she could not make her lips and tongue work in the way she wanted them to with the length obstructing them. She could barely breathe.

  Perhaps, she thought, she should stop and try it another time. But one glance up at August and she caught something akin to impatience in his countenance. His other hand came down to rest on her shoulder and she tried again, feeling a scorching flame of embarrassment and frustration creep up her throat, her cheeks, around the edges of her mouth.

  Finally, she attempted to pull away, but before her jaws could fully relax, August’s grip on her head and shoulder tightened and pressed her towards him at the same time he thrust his hip forward, his member poking against the back of her throat.

  She gagged, the muscular reaction causing her to clamp her lips tighter around him. He moaned and pulled back again before driving it in once more. Her whole jaw ached with the force of it, and tears rose into the corners of her eyes at the strain: the strain of housing his manhood, the strain of breathing, the strain of her panic at how utterly miserable and awful she felt about what they were doing.

  Seemingly unaware of her struggles, August kept on thrusting into her mouth, his gasps coming in rapid breaths and grunts. She grabbed his thighs, nails boring into his skin in an attempt to hold him back, but he must have misunderstood her. Like a whip to a horse’s flank, he spurred on instead. Faster, harder, until she thought her lungs would burst and her head with it if he didn’t⁠—

  Something rapped on glass.

  Instantly, August pulled out, his face turning to the window while Keira grasped her throat, soothing her heated cheeks and bloated lips, drying the tears out of her eyes.

  She froze.

  Peering through the glass were three wicked faces, Miles being one of them, their mouths open in raucous laughter and their fingers pointing in her direction before they disappeared. August turned serious and buckled up his breeches, hiding himself from view.

  ‘I’ll talk with them,’ he said curtly, heading for the door. ‘Make sure they don’t tell.’

  ‘August,’ Keira croaked, her mind a chaos of fractured thoughts. He turned, his face collected and calm as if what had just transpired had been nothing special.

  It occurred to her then that perhaps, to him, it hadn’t been. She was pretty certain she had been terrible at it. Perhaps so terrible that she had disappointed him.

  Her chest quivered at the thought. That after all that, not even something good had come out of it. ‘Was it…was it how you wanted it?’

  He pursed his lips. ‘It was fine, Keira,’ he said matter-of-factly, and left the cottage.

  3

  OBSESSION

  ‘Well, hello love, didn’t expect to see you here,’ Isolde said, pouring deep berry-red wine into a couple glasses as Keira entered her hut. She was dressed in a white camisole of sorts, laced tightly over her luscious shape. It complemented the glow of her brown skin, making her look ethereal. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be joining the hunt?’ She looked up, perhaps about to offer Keira a glass, when she caught sight of her face and stilled.

  ‘One moment,’ she said, then carried the two glasses she had poured into her bedroom to serve the two women sprawled over her bedcovers. Echo and Makenna both waved their fingers at Keira in greeting, Echo wearing a panelled corset and undergarments, Makenna wearing nothing at all – all three clearly being in the middle of an afternoon of indulgence – before their expressions shifted and changed into concern, just like Isolde’s had done.

  Returning, Isolde picked up another bottle and tilted it towards Keira, looking questioningly upon her through her curtain of fiery red hair. ‘Wine?’

  Still trembling, Keira bit back her rejection and nodded. She needed it after what had gone down between her and August.

  It had taken her some time to scramble off the floor, most of it spent chastising herself for having been so completely unprepared for what to do with his thing in her mouth, the other part spent worrying what people would say if they heard, if Miles and his friends spread the gossip before August could stop them. There was a part of her mind that thought darker thoughts too, a part where she felt used and humiliated and something else, but she had not allowed herself to linger on those for long enough to put words to the emotions.

  ‘I’m sorry for interrupting,’ Keira said, taking the glass of wine, and glanced around the familiar space of Isolde’s hut to avoid her gaze.

  The wooden walls and roof were filled with dried bundles of nettles and corn, flowers and straws. All were hung up to dry around the cottage like meat at the butchers. Either they were plants that smelled good, leaving a fresh, earthy scent, or herbs that could be used in a potion or two. It was the mark of a good Woodland Witch to know how to utilise them for every purpose – from healing a tummy ache to stopping the heart of a man – and Isolde was the best at both, the leader of her clan.

  ‘Tell me why you’re interrupting, and I’ll let you know if an apology is warranted or not,’ Isolde crooned and took a sip of her wine, raising a brow.

  ‘Can’t I simply call upon my closest friend without a reason?’ Keira asked, picking up a dry rose petal from Isolde’s worktop table and crushing it between her fingers, avoiding her piercing gaze.

  ‘You can. But it is the first day of the hunt and the sun is still up, so I repeat myself for the last time, Keira, what are you doing here?’ Isolde clicked her tongue against her teeth. ‘Surely, you’re not tired of hunting August already?’

  Keira felt her smile stiffen. Once she had come off the floor, she had decided to act like nothing. To act like what had happened had been a perfectly natural thing to occur between two young adults who loved one another, that she was confident it had been the right choice, and that she had done it right. But as Isolde turned her eyes upon her, she felt her bravado falter, her inner turmoil brewing, and the mood in the cottage darkened as the witch saw through her.