The sunlight was just at the right angle to brighten Jaythen's eyelids while they were closed. He saw a dancing shine in the dark behind them, the heat of the light caused his imagination to think he could have been in the center of the sun.

"My Lord, Master Halden has sent me to wake you," Jaythen opened one eye blurrily to find Warwick standing at his bedside.

"How can he be awake? He was nearly passed out when I last saw him," Jaythen groaned.

"How can any of us be awake?" Warwick asked but not seriously. He yawned and sniffed. "I shall be joining your hunting party today, God forbid I should accidentally hit you with your own arrows though."

He saw Warwick to already be dressed in clothes meant for the forest—a thick cloth tunic and vest with a hunting dagger and boots. He had also laid out an outfit for Jaythen to wear, just like he was supposed to—being Jaythen's valet. "Then it's good that I'm not taking them."

He dismissed Warwick and rubbed his face to rid it of the sleep and sun.

He met his family in the informal dining chamber. To his surprise, Halden was chipper, and eager to head off. His mother demanded Jaythen to see the Count before taking off with the hunting party.

He lightly knocked on the door to the Lord's bedchamber, hoping his father was still asleep.

"Enter," his father's voice was weak.

"Father," he bowed at the threshold once the door was open all the way.

"Son, come closer."

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"This godforsaken fever has me sweating all night and all day," the Count coughed. Jaythen took his answer to mean 'not well.'

"I am going hunting with Halden today…"

"Have you found a bride yet?"

Jaythen frowned, "I only just spoke to you yesterday, there was no time…"

"Excuses! Your mother has informed me that there were many suitable young women at your return celebration last night."

Jaythen pressed his lips together tightly, in order to keep from shouting disrespectfully. How does he think it is so easy to find one?

"Are you even attracted to women?"

Jaythen balked at his father's audacity to ask such a question.

"Of course I'm attracted to women—but you're asking me to find one as a bride. There is a big difference between a lustful tryst and a loving relationship—even I can see that."

"Bah!" His father threw up his hands.

Jaythen turned his back on the Count then, ready to try and kill something to wear off his frustrations.

"If you do not find a lady by this mid-season's eve, I will turn all my wealth over to Halden—I'm sure he would be able to carry this family through successfully."

Jaythen stopped in the threshold, but didn't face what he knew to be his father's glare "Good—I don't want it."

***

"Why so moody, cousin?" Halden asked. He was riding next to Jaythen. His horse was taller so he looked down upon Jaythen. Jaythen liked Halden, and as much as he wished to be someone else—he didn't trust Halden would make an acceptable Count. After all, Halden didn't know anything about the politics and King's laws of holding a Countship. He had learned about it for a full year and knew Halden was ill equipped to take on such a task. He took a look at the sky, which was clouding over the brilliant sunshine of the early morning.

"Those clouds are no help," Jaythen nodded.

"Looks like rain," Warwick noted.

"That will be fantastic! We can track beasts through their prints in the mud!" Halden exclaimed.

Yes but we will all be wet and ill with fever by the end, Jaythen thought cynically, dismounted and retrieved his cloak from the pack on his horse as it was getting chilly again from the overcast.

The rest of the hunting party dismounted their horses and started traveling on foot silently, listening for any rustling noises or animal calls. Jaythen had been hunting when he was younger—about fifteen. He didn't enjoy the thrill of the kill as much as his cousin however.

The two young lords branched off of their hunting party. Halden had been a stocky young fellow while Jaythen was thin and lean. Halden carried a hunting bow and Jaythen carried the quiver of arrows. The darting direction of Halden's eyes silently alerted his younger cousin that he had spotted his prey. Jaythen spotted the doe in the small clearing, nibbling on patches of grass—not knowing of their presence, their scents upwind.

Halden motioned with his hand for an arrow and Jaythen obliged. He watched closely as his cousin knocked the arrow above his knuckle and drew back the string. It was fast, the string snapped and the arrow launched through the air—striking the deer in her chest.

"I got it!" Halden was pleased with himself and hopped over to his trophy kill. Jaythen followed but stared at the deer—it was still breathing—alive. From the entry point, the doe's blood trickled down her chest, muddling the white fur.

"She's still alive—" Jaythen bit his lip, feeling bad for the poor animal.

Halden grabbed another arrow, "Not for long."

Before Jaythen had time to look away, Halden had plunged another arrow into the doe's neck, and it must have been a vein for her blood was sent splattering across their tunics. She didn't move any longer, finally still—and the blank look of her black, beady eyes was haunting.

Jaythen had decided to hunt with a large dagger, as he could throw it—spinning through the air—and hit his target or at least wound it significantly. He had before successfully killed rabbits in that manner—but they were only the pesky ones that upturned vegetables in the courtyard garden.A fog was settling upon them quickly, making it harder to see far in front of them. Along with the clouds and approaching fog, it started to mist. It was wet and clung to their clothes, hair, and skin.

The woods that surrounded Wendbury were vast; the Great Forest is what people called it. The trees were so tall that it seemed like permanent dusk beneath their leaves—even when the sun was high. Fortunately it was early spring and the leaves were not yet grown to their full volume.

The melting of the snow, and added moisture from the misting, caused the ground to be quite muddy but he had on thick leather boots that went up to his knee and wasn't worried about getting stuck. The forest was high traffic for creatures in the spring and that was good for his eager cousin. He took a breath and smiled at the simplicity that a forest seemed to have at first glance but the complexity within it. They heard a noise all of a sudden—it was loud and echoed through them.

Jaythen looked at Halden alarmed—"What on earth was that?"

"Shh!" Halden replied. He looked upwards, listening for any more noises.

After a few moments Halden's body lost its tension and he stood upright calmly, "We've heard it before in days past while hunting. I don't know what it is. It was the call of a very large beast though—one I've never heard before."

Jaythen was surprised to see Halden shaken—even if it was slight. Halden often went hunting and knew what beasts had which cry, and for him to admit that he still couldn't track it was impressive. That noise though, sounded angry and not like any regular call of any regular beast.

"So what are we to do?" he wondered.

Halden smiled, "We find it and we kill it."

***

It was many hours later and Jaythen was sitting against a tree trunk, at a loss. The fog around him was thick, and he could not see more than three or four feet in front of him, no less any member of his hunting party—which he had gotten separated from. The mist had started into a light sprinkling of rain, which only furthered his growing worry. It would soon be dark, and he would be stranded in the Great Forest wet and without food. He sighed, accepting the truth of his situation. I am lost.

It was all Halden's fault though. They had heard the thunder of what was the unidentified beast's call again and Halden had taken off in a sprint with the rest of the party members following. Jaythen had taken that moment to relieve himself by the nearest tree and when he called out to find them no one answered—leaving him by himself. He didn't know the way back to the castle for he wasn't as familiar with the forest as Halden. He sighed again and stood figuring it would be better to at least try and find his way back. Unless, he traveled farther away, which was also a valid worry in the back of his mind. The silence of the forest was eerie, yet almost tranquil with the small raindrops hitting blooming leaves. The eeriness came especially with the gray fog engulfing him. Sometimes he heard a bird's call and he couldn't help but to jump when he heard a rodent scuffle between bushes near him and he always had his dagger in front of him in case he were to be attacked. He found a small creek and followed its edge in hopes it would lead out of the forest. He was getting very hungry, and the tightening in his stomach was uncomfortable. They would have to find him, they couldn't go back to the castle without him—what would his mother do?

His mind began to wander since he was alone with his imagination and there was no one to interrupt him.

"You're the son of Count Wendbury," a girl slid next to him at the table where he was seated.

He was only slightly startled by her. She was smiling at him—very sure that he was the one to be smiling about.

"Yes."

"I want to dance with you," she stated and grabbed his hand nearly pulling him off the bench. He was watching the nightly court festivities, not participating as he had only been in the Imperial City for a week and knew no one he could dance with.

She took him to the middle of the floor and began the steps to a lively dance, holding his hands and twisting around him and underneath his arms. It was a dance too lively for conversation but he spent the whole time studying her. She laughed and every so often flashed him a look of daring. He held her waist, lifted her, and set her down on the other side, while her arms were wrapped around his neck.

Her dress was made of fine red velvet and she was the only lady at the festivities wearing red. She knew how to stand out—and obviously knew what she wanted. She skipped to the left and right, one of her hands on her hips while he held her other hand to balance her.

The end of the dance was nearing, and by then he found himself intrigued with the lass.

"What is your name?"

"Meet me behind the garden orchard at midnight and I'll tell you."

Before he could finish the thought of his memory, he was interrupted.

There was, for certain, an animal—a large one—nearby. The shifting noises gave it away. It was brushing against the leaves, and must have not picked up his scent. The shape was hard to determine for his view was obscured by a mass of tall, unwieldy elderberry brush. He took a deep, definite breath—he would kill that creature. He stepped through a brush of elderberry with his dagger drawn. Two things happened very quickly; he was pushed backwards into the stem of a tree and held there, and he brought his dagger up, blinded with the need to protect himself. There was nothing more though—no fighting, struggle, or pain—but just the feeling of being restrained, and a body of some sort pressed against his—keeping him pinned as such. His eyes cleared and found that he was staring into a pair just as surprised if not wider.

"Are you going to kill me, then?" She asked after a moment, her voice was near wavering. He could tell she was suspicious, unsure about his intentions.

He blinked, twice even—before he realized she was real. The edge of the dagger was touching the soft skin right under her jaw. An upward thrust of force would have easily killed her—he was overcome with relief he hadn't murdered her, and that she wasn't a vicious animal of the woods. He lowered his dagger apprehensively—not knowing how to begin what to say.

She was just as apprehensive, but slowly released her hold of his wrist. Her hand immediately rose to her neck, brushing upwards toward her chin to make sure he hadn't drawn any blood.

Her hands lowered to her hips, his eyes followed and a deep blush crept into his cheeks as he suddenly—finally—noticed that she wore no clothes. He averted his eyes immediately, "Pardon me."

She bit the inside of her cheek and a burning annoyance was set clearly in her eyes, "How can I pardon you? You've threatened my life and have shamed my modesty."

He involuntarily felt his eyes start to wander as she spoke—the girl had to have been no older than seventeen, with extremely long locks of dark golden hair that fell in length to her thighs—such a perfect body Jaythen had only seen in fine works of art. He did spot a thin, silver chain around her neck with a jewel embedded in an amulet that set just above her breasts.

"So very ungallant you are Sir," She crossed her arms over her chest and his eyes were back to focus on her face at once. He coughed with embarrassment before noticing how beautiful those eyes of hers were—like shining emeralds coveted by the royals.

"I apologize, miss. I was tracking animals with my hunting party but have gotten separated from them—I thought that you may have been an animal. I didn't expect to find…" he trailed off as she turned her back on him and he examined her fine shape from her shoulder blades to her lower hips. He shook his head and reminded himself he was being uncouth staring at her so. She had grabbed a pair of undergarments—an underskirt and bodice that were hanging on a low tree branch. She must have been washing them—not that they were dry because it was still sprinkling. He coughed and turned around as to stop staring at her.

She was humming an unfamiliar tune as she dressed. It all seemed so out of place to him—a girl in the woods, all by herself—naked.

"So you are lost?" She inquired. He turned to face her again—studying her calm expression and couldn't help but to notice the way the white garments clung damply to her body.

"I—have gotten a little off direction, yes."

She shrugged and brushed past him, nearly disappearing into the fog. He lunged forward in order not to lose her. Her figure moved steadily away but his hand landed on her shoulder, and she tensed.

"What about you? Are you lost as well? Do you require rescuing?"

She turned to face him and he saw she was biting her lip to keep from outwardly laughing. Her bottom lip was plush under her teeth. The corners of her mouth twitched upward.

"I don't believe so. Do you require rescuing?"

"Don't be ridiculous—I am a man."

"Then I trust you to find your way. Good day."

"Wait!" he stopped her from going further. She sighed with exasperation and impatiently waited for him to finish his thought. He was going to ask her who she was but noticed the rocks near to them had deep gash marks in their surface—something like he never seen or heard of before. Not only were there gashes but also there were dark burn marks of char also apparent.

She noticed where he was looking and quickly began to walk away.

His attention was back on her in an instant, "No, sorry—I was going to ask you if you had any food since I may not be able to reach my hunting party anytime soon." She kept walking though, "I can repay you."

She was barely visible through the fog but slowed and eventually turned to face him, "Why can't you just admit that you are lost?"

"I'm not lo—" he began to deny but her eyes narrowed, telling him that she was aware of the truth. "How can you be for certain?"

"Because you have the look about you—so very unsure and lonely."

He caught up to her so that he was by her side, "How would you know that?"

She glanced at him, and he caught her own description of the emotion flicker through her eyes before she looked away. "Follow me. I know where there is food."

They ended up in a clearing where a fire was barely burning, dug into the ground and had been started on drier tinder. He could smell something delicious. The fire was small, trying to keep its life despite the wetness around them.

He saw pieces of deer leg roasting on top of a makeshift spit. She pulled the meat away from the fire, and pulled the stick out of it and breathed out in tiny gasps while rolling the meat from hand to hand for it was hot.

He intervened, seeing she was in danger of burning her fingers, "Here, let me." He had gloves on, and the deer meat was warm but not scalding in his hands. She gave him a look that he couldn't decipher. He blew on the steaming piece of meat and in a few moments it was rendered cool enough to consume. He handed the piece to her out of courtesy, but she shoved his hand away, "You're the one who is hungry and asked for food."

He felt like a fool and bit into the meat, trying not to notice the way she sat there and studied him. The way her head was cocked to the side, caused her long hair to fall around her shoulder, her brows fixed in a curious manner—like she had never been so close to a man before.

He swallowed a lump of meat and met her gaze, "What is a girl like you doing out in the forest all alone?"

She looked taken aback, her cheeks reddened and her gaze suddenly fierce, "It is not your concern, Sir Hunter."

He held up his hands, and couldn't help but to smirk at her sudden title for him, "Forgive me, I was merely wondering out loud."

He had eaten until full, not knowing when he would be able to find food again. She had only picked at a small portion of deer meat—hardly finishing it before she threw it to the woods where some other animal would have gladly consumed it.

The dark was now surrounding them, and the fog was long from lifting. Coldness was setting in.

"Where do you live?"

The girl with green eyes looked up from what she was focusing on—something within the woods—and frowned at his interruption.

"Where ever I want."

"Do you not have a family?"

She only stared at him, seeming to not comprehend his question—her focus elsewhere.

"Do you not have a home?"

"Shh!"

A growl sounded behind them and he whirled around to see a wolf lunge at him. Its big furry body knocked him over, jumped atop him and opened its mouth wide enough he could make out its sharp teeth. With another growl, its head lunged forward, snapping and biting. He shouted and tried grabbing its muzzle and wrestling it off. He reached for the dagger sheathed at his waist and in that moment, the wolf sank its teeth into his shoulder. He felt it tear his flesh and muscle viciously and he cried out with pain.

The girl with green eyes foolishly rushed at the wolf from above him. The wolf lifted its bloody muzzle with a growl, considered her, and in the next instant leapt away, fleeing into the woods with whimpering howls.

He turned his eyes upward to her with a questioning stare. She ignored it. Instead she looked at his wound and sighed—seeming to think that he had been too much trouble already. She grabbed the end of her underskirt and ripped it across so there was a long strip of frayed fabric. She approached him and knelt by his side, carefully wrapping the material around his wound. He sucked in a breath and winced at any pressure laid upon it.

"You need to go back to your home if you want that properly healed, I do not have the skill to deal with such injuries."

"Eh…well the problem with that is that I don't know how to get home."

She pressed her lips together, annoyed, even though she knew he had been lost from the first sight of him. "If you don't know your own way home, then how shall I?"

"I live in Wendbury,"

"I've never been to Wendbury."

"You seem to know your way around," he smiled maybe in an attempt to convince her to help him, but winced at the pain in his arm a second after and held it, acquiring blood on his fingers, through the fabric even.

She frowned once more, "If we leave right now, you can be there by sunrise."

She pulled him up roughly, making him grunt in pain, and he knew she had done it on purpose. "This way."

The darkness and the fog worked against them on their travel. She would disappear into the fog often and when he was just worried enough to call for her—she would appear next to him. She seemed pleased that he was so dependent on her or amused at it at least. He felt a little ashamed at asking so much of her but was thankful she had helped him. What had he done for her? I almost killed her.

"I owe you very much," he said.

"For what?"

He raised his brows, not knowing if she were jesting. How could she think he did not owe her anything?

"Well you've fed me, and now you're leading me back to my home, not to mention somehow frightened the wolf away. I daresay I owe you my life."

She stopped walking and he stumbled into her, "That's too great of a thing to owe somebody. I think, Sir Hunter, that if you are to owe me anything, it is a great thanks."

"Can you at least give me your name so I may thank you?"

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but after a moment must have decided he was of no harm to her. "Avalyn. My name is Avalyn."

He took in the sight of her with the sound of her name, and nodded, "Thank you, Miss Avalyn. I am Jaythen."

"That is a much better name than Sir Hunter."

A/N: Whew! I uploaded the 1st four chapters consecutively, hoping that your intrigue has been piqued, and for you to take in everything. I do promise this has a big something to do with the original book if you're feeling puzzled.