The hunting party rode in a tight column through the dense pine forest, late afternoon sun cutting gold between the trunks.

Princess Elara sat rigid in her saddle, silk riding skirts hitched high enough to bare the pale skin of her thighs, jewelled crop clenched in one white-knuckled fist. The six royal guards rode around her like a living cage—Captain Roran at her right, the massive dark-haired brute whose scarred face never smiled; lean, sharp-eyed Torvin on her left; the twins Kael and Rian behind; broad-shouldered Garrick ahead; and the quiet, cold-eyed Soren bringing up the rear.