The Hunt

by Frost Kay

  The Hunt

  Twisted Kingdoms Book One

  Frost Kay

  Contents

  Also By Frost Kay

  The Twisted Kingdoms

  History of the Twisted Kingdoms

  Prologue

  1. Tempest

  2. Tempest

  3. Tempest

  4. Tempest

  5. Tempest

  6. Tempest

  7. Tempest

  8. King Destin

  9. Tempest

  10. Tempest

  11. Tempest

  12. Tempest

  13. Tempest

  14. Pyre

  15. Tempest

  16. Tempest

  17. Tempest

  18. Tempest

  19. Tempest

  20. Tempest

  21. Tempest

  22. Tempest

  23. Tempest

  24. Tempest

  25. Tempest

  26. Pyre

  27. Tempest

  28. Tempest

  29. Tempest

  30. Tempest

  31. Tempest

  32. Tempest

  Let’s Chat!

  FREE BOOK

  Copyright

  The Hunt: Twisted Kingdoms Book One

  Copyright © 2020 Renegade Publishing, LLC

  First Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any format or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  For information on reproducing sections of this book or sales of this book go to www.frostkay.net

  Cover by Story Wrappers

  Copy Editing by Madeline Dyer

  Proofreading by Kate Anderson

  Formatting by Renegade Publishing

  Beta Reading by Andrea Coble & Samantha Corkin

  Created with Vellum

  Also By Frost Kay

  THE AERMIAN FEUDS

  (Dark Epic Fantasy)

  Rebel’s Blade

  Crown’s Shield

  Siren’s Lure

  Enemy’s Queen

  King’s Warrior

  Warlord’s Shadow

  Spy’s Mask

  Court’s Fool

  DOMINION OF ASH

  (Post Apocalyptic Fantasy)

  The Stain

  The Tainted

  The Exiled

  The Fallout (2020)

  MIXOLOGISTS & PIRATES

  (Sci-Fi Fantasy)

  Amber Vial

  Emerald Bane

  Scarlet Venom

  Cyan Toxin

  Onyx Elixir

  Indigo Alloy

  THE TWISTED KINGDOMS

  (Epic Fantasy/Fairytale Retelling)

  The Hunt

  The Rook

  History of the Twisted Kingdoms

  Once upon a time… Elves, Shapeshifters, Giants, Dragons, Humans and Merfolk were all at peace—all equals. Their lands and kingdoms were prosperous, and their enemies didn’t dare attack for their armies were formidable. Generations passed and the people began to forget what was most important—love, courage, loyalty.

  That was their downfall—for in self-indulgent ignorance they allowed darkness to creep into the land like a thief in the night. It started out slowly.

  The Merfolk let vanity take root deep in their hearts, the Dragons became greedy from the skies, the Giants grew bloodthirsty, the Humans covetous, the Shapeshifters prideful, and the Elves allowed apathy to squeeze compassion from their hearts.

  It was said that the earth rumbled and cracked, shaking the core of the world. When the tremors ceased, the Jagged Bone Mountain range surrounded the Elvish kingdom, cutting the elves off from every other living creature.

  The Dragons abandoned their own kingdom and made their home in the Jagged Bones, threatening all who approached their lairs—making it impossible to pass through the mountains—though the Giants tried. As if the mountains of the Jagged Bones craved blood and hatred, many lives were claimed in the senseless violence there.

  Upon witnessing such death, the Merfolk retreated to their watery homes, content to bask in the beauty of the sea and their own splendor, only occasionally consorting with pirates when it amused them.

  Years passed and the myths faded from the world’s mind.

  The Elvish kingdom became the Wilds, the Giants sequestered themselves in their own kingdom of Kopal. The Fire Isle Kingdoms were forged by mercenaries—the offspring of pirates, Sirens, and Merfolk.

  For a time, the Shapeshifters of Talaga held an uneasy peace with the Humans of Heimserya. The two kingdoms needed each other to survive, that all changed with the birth of a new plant and a royal son.

  An extraordinary flower—the Mimikia—was discovered in Talaga. When distilled, it was a powerful drug capable of healing any wound. It was practically magical. The applications were limitless and its worth immeasurable. In their pride, the Shapeshifters boasted of their discovery, of their brilliance.

  Word reached the Humans of this new source of wealth. They coveted this new miracle plant and the temptation proved to be too much for the newly crowned king who sought to enrich his kingdom. With his greed dawned a new era of bloodshed, prejudice, addiction, and depravity.

  Welcome to the Twisted Kingdoms.

  Prologue

  The world wasn’t always a place of war, depravity, and death.

  Her mum used to tell her stories of a time when Shapeshifters, Elves, Giants, Merfolk, Dragons, and Humans shared love and unity. A time when kings were honorable, their men chivalrous and valiant.

  A time of peace.

  Those were times of fairytales.

  In the icy land of Heimserya, fairytales didn’t exist.

  Not anymore.

  Tempest

  The pungent scent of herbs perfumed the air as she pulled a plant from the ground just like Mama. Delight filled five-year-old Tempest as a ladybug crawled across her dirty knuckles, a bright splash of red against her own pale skin.

  Her nose wrinkled as a horrid odor blew through the glen, polluting her playground. Tempest tipped her head back and scanned the meadow as the scent grew stronger. What was that? It didn’t belong in the forest. Her brows drew down as she spotted wisps of smoke swirling on the wind.

  A sheen of sweat broke out on her body, and she pushed her hood from her tiny face, frowning. It was so hot today. Her mum said it was going to be chilly.

  A worm wiggled in the dirt, pulling her attention from the smoke. Temp pushed some dirt over the top of him. “Goodnight little worm,” she whispered as she pulled another herb from the ground.

  She paused as another wave of heat rolled over her. Tempest straightened and pulled at the neck of her frock, hating the heavy, itchy fabric. Something just wasn’t right. It was warmer than normal. Too hot for spring.

  Unnatural.

  She froze as a scream pierced the air. The herbs tumbled from her fingers as she recognized the voice.

  Mum.

  Tempest abandoned her collection of plants and bolted back toward the cottage, her little heart hammering in her chest. Why was her mama screaming like that? Was it a spider? A monster?

  Her feet pounded against the loam-covered ground, the heat increasing with every step. Tempest slowed and her mouth gaped as she spotted the biggest fire she’d ever seen. Gargantuan licks of flame teased the tops of the trees that stood like giant sentinels around her home. Terror filled her body down to her very soul. Something wa
s horrifically, painfully wrong.

  She picked up her speed and sprinted toward the hissing, fiery beast. A rock jabbed into her slippered foot, but she scarcely felt the pain. All she could think about was getting home and finding her mum. Mama would know what to do. She could tame the fire.

  Her breaths came in pants as she broke through the ring of trees surrounding their home. Tempest stared at the towers of fire that greeted her, five times taller than her little form. Fire demons had almost engulfed everything. Her house was being devoured before her very eyes.

  “Mama?” she whispered.

  Her mother was nowhere to be seen.

  A soul-piercing scream caused Tempest to jump and the hair along her arms to raise. Was her mama in there? Her eyes searched the flames desperately, seeking the owner of the screams. She took one step forward and held up her arm to block the heat from her face. The blaze caused tears to leak from her eyes.

  "Mama," she tried to call out, but she choked on black, poisonous smoke. She coughed and tried again. "Mama, where are you?!"

  She screamed as the windows exploded, raining fragments of glass. Tempest winced as she accidentally stepped on one, the heat of the glass burning through her slipper. She blinked at the thousands of scattered shards on the ground, looking like the first frost of fall.

  It was wrong. It was spring not fall. Even though none of it made sense, it was almost magical how the glass glittered on the ground, reflecting the writhing flames and clear blue sky high above.

  A hysterical giggle started in her belly, and she took another step toward the house. The flames danced like fiery demons above her home. Why were they there? She and Mama were good people. They’d never done anything bad. Her mum always helped those in need. In fact, the week prior Tempest had found a stranger in the meadow near her home. She’d dropped her flowers when he’d stumbled out of the darkest part of the woods, covered in blood.

  So much blood.

  Perhaps another little girl would have cried at the sight of him—but not Tempest. She had asked him if she could help and he’d promptly passed out. Her mama had always said it was their responsibility to help if they had the power to. When Tempest had screamed for help, her mum came running to her side, and between the two of them, they'd hauled the man back to their cottage to tend to his wounds. He had strange, animalistic ears poking out through his hair. They were different from hers, but she didn’t care. Temp had only wanted to touch them because they looked so soft.

  Her mum had called him a shifter.

  Tempest didn't have much experience with shifters. Their cottage was far from any nearby villages, so they didn’t have many visitors. Much to her disappointment, the man certainly hadn’t been talkative, since he’d slept on Mama’s cot most of the time.

  The shifter. Maybe he could help. “Shifter! Help!”

  He didn’t come.

  A wave of heat slammed into Tempest, instantly drying her tears and leaving her cheeks dry and itchy. Unbearable warmth pressed down on her, causing her to sob. The fire raged and a sense of helplessness settled over her. She needed help.

  “Help!” she wailed again. The shifter had to help her.

  A flash of movement through one of the broken windows caught her attention. She wiped her stinging eyes with her sleeve and squinted. There he was: the shifter. He leapt through the window and scrambled across the glass-covered ground, coughing.

  Tempest glanced back to the window, waiting expectantly for her mum to follow. Nothing. Smoke billowed from the jagged-toothed window, but her mum still didn’t appear. She turned her attention back to the man. He lifted his head, and his eyes met hers. They stared at each other as the world burned down around their ears.

  “Where’s Mama?” Tempest croaked.

  It was as if her speech had broken the spell. As soon as the words had passed her lips, he fled through the forest.

  “Where are you going?” she screamed. “My mama is in there. Help me!” Why hadn’t he helped Mama? Surely, he heard her screams? “Come back!”

  A chill ran down her spine and she stilled, tears dripping down her dry face. How could he leave Mama? What was she supposed to do? Mama was screaming for help…

  Tempest twisted back around to face her burning home. Something wasn’t right. It was quiet. Too quiet. Aside from the roaring of the fire, she couldn’t hear a thing. No screaming or shouting. No cries for help.

  Nothing.

  “Mama!” Tempest yelled. “Answer me, Mama!”

  Again. Nothing.

  Terror for her mum pushed past Tempest’s fear of the fire, and she found herself reaching for the front door’s handle, despite the danger raging around her, determined to find her mum. As much as she was afraid, she knew she couldn’t leave her mum alone. They were a team. Always together.

  The metal was blindingly hot; she flinched away, whimpering, before wrapping her hand in her thick winter cloak and forcing herself to touch it again. With a desperate push, the door wrenched open, rewarding Tempest with a solid blast of boiling air and thick, acrid smoke. Her lungs screamed. She closed her watering eyes as she took a few unsteady steps into the cottage, the heated floorboards scalding the soles of her feet through her shoes.

  Every instinct in Tempest’s small, fragile body begged her to run away. She would die in here if she stayed, but she couldn’t leave Mama. Tempest forced her streaming eyes open and took trembling step after step into her rapidly deteriorating home.

  The cottage groaned as if it was in pain and she shrieked when a beam crashed from the ceiling, blocking her path. Tempest darted to the left and scurried toward her mother’s bedroom.

  A figure slumped in the doorway, blackened by soot, and dangerously close to being burned by the cruel touch of a flame.

  “Mum—Mama!” Tempest sobbed, closing the distance between her and her mum without thinking about the encroaching fire. “Mama, wake up.” She struggled to turn her unconscious mum onto her back, willing for her to be awake. She shook her mum’s arm. “Please get up.”

  But she didn’t. Tempest laid her chapped cheek against her mum’s chest. It was too still. Understanding dawned and she pulled back, shaking. Her mum wasn’t breathing.

  “Please wake up,” Tempest begged. “Please. Please. Pl—ah!”

  She flinched away when a searing pain crawled through the bottom of her feet and up her legs. The flames surrounding them burnt away her leather slippers, reaching her skin even as she watched it happen, helpless.

  Tempest’s gaze swung from her mother to the front door and back again. She wasn’t strong enough to get the two of them out of the cottage—her mum was just too big, and she was so tired. Sobs racked her chest and she hugged her mama, barely able to stand the heat any longer.

  Her mum’s voice floated into her mind: If I’m not here, you must take care of yourself, Tempest. If there is danger, flee. I will come for you.

  “I love you, Mama,” she wept.

  She kissed her mum’s cheek, and, with one final tear-filled glance, Tempest stumbled toward the entrance of the cottage. She blinked at her mum’s bow laying abandoned on the floor somehow untouched by the flames. Kneeling, her little fingers curled around the heated wood of the bow and she dragged it out of the only home she’d known.

  Numbness seeped into her bones. Tempest didn’t feel the glass cut her feet, nor the burns on her hands and legs as she wandered to the edge of the trees that bordered their land, dragging her mum’s bow. She turned and stared blankly as everything she loved was consumed by the fiery beast. The cottage released one last protesting groan right before the entire building collapsed. The earth rumbled beneath her abused feet as if acknowledging the end of a life.

  Her breath came in wheezing pants and Tempest’s legs crumpled. Time ceased to matter as she watched the flames rapidly consume what was left of her home and flicker out of existence. It was all gone. She tipped her chin up when her belly growled, realizing the sun had moved across the sky.

  Slo
wly, she stood on shaking legs and began walking into the forest. The sun said its final farewell and the stars came out to play, but she kept walking. Her mama said the forest wasn’t safe at night, and even though her feet ached, her throat parched and scratchy, and her brain numb, she knew her mama was right. Tempest huddled deeper into the remains of her tattered cloak as the blanket of a bitterly cold night set in.

  Tempest tripped when she stumbled across a cottage. One second she was in the woods, and the next surrounded by homes. Her eyes rounded as she counted the cottages. Two, three, four. No, five, then ten. It was the largest number of houses she’d ever seen before.

  A village. She’d always dreamed of visiting the village, but now it seemed to lack the excitement. All she wanted was her mum or… her papa.

  “Papa,” Tempest whispered, the word a puffy little cloud upon the air.

  He’d not visited her in a long time, but her mama said that he loved her even if he couldn’t come. Her face screwed up as she tried to remember what else her mama had said about Papa. He lived in a city. She eyed the houses around her. Maybe he lived here.

  “Hello, there!” a stranger called. He lifted a lantern high in the air.

  His smile fell when he shuffled closer, his eyes widening behind his spectacles. Tempest held her hands up and stared at her pale arms streaked with soot. Her clothing was blackened and burned. So dirty.