Ryen was lying in the grass not ten feet from him.
Bryce rose, cradling his side, which had suddenly gone numb. He took a hesitant step forward. She wasn’t moving. Images of her lying in the mud at the Battle of Agincourt flashed through his mind. “No,” he whispered, the agonized gasp wrenched from a suddenly tight throat.
His steps increased in length and urgency until he was running and he skidded to a halt in the wet grass and gazed at her. She can’t be hurt. I will never forgive myself. “Ryen,” he groaned, fear etched in his dark eyes. He dropped to one knee beside her, his gaze sweeping anxiously over her body. There was no blood, unlike at Agincourt. She was all right. He knew it the moment her large eyes turned up to him. He knew it the moment she pressed the dagger against his throat.
He was so startled that for a long moment he could not move, did not breathe. The treacherous little wench, he thought. And I was worried for her safety. Two can play at that game.
Gasping for breath, Bryce doubled over, holding his ribs. There was pain spearing through his body from the impact of the lance, but he had experienced the agony in battle before and knew the results would be only dark bruises.
The dagger was immediately replaced by caring hands and Bryce knew he had won. He seized the wrist of her dagger hand and drew her close, crushing her in an embrace so powerful that it threatened to break her ribs. “I learn quickly, Angel,” he murmured into her ear.
He felt the outrage surge through her body, felt her push against his embrace, but he did not let go.
“You knew I would come to your aid,” he said with admiration in his voice. “You knew my only weakness would be you.” Her impudent silence was answer enough for him and he chuckled as she increased her struggle. “And I guessed your only weakness would be me.”
“You arrogant –” Ryen shoved against his chest.
When he glanced down at her, there was sorrow in his dark eyes. “I never meant to hurt you. But I could not risk losing you.”
Suddenly she wrenched away from him. Disbelief flashed through her bright blue eyes, then suspicion. “Sword!” she called, replacing the dagger in her belt. “I thought you were returning me to France,” she snarled, as Grey ran up and handed her a sword.
Bryce tried to ignore the glint of amusement that lit Grey’s face as he backed away. “If I had wanted you returned to France, I would have taken the gold and let Dumas have you.”
“One bag of gold,” Ryen murmured, and swung the blade.
Bryce ducked as the blade swooshed over his head. Had that been disappointment in her voice? Bryce’s throaty chuckle reached her ears. “Angel, there were more than two carts full in the courtyard.”
Shock rounded her eyes as she stared at him, the sword held at the ready beside her head.
“You did not think I would let you go for one tiny bag of gold, did you?”
Talbot rushed to Bryce’s side and handed him his sword. Bryce stared at it for a long moment before lifting it from Talbot’s hands.
“Two carts?” she gasped.
Still, Bryce did not raise his sword to her. “Don’t you know what you mean to me? My life was complete in those days we were together. Those days when you were happy with me. I want that happiness again. For you and for me. Somewhere… somehow… you became more to me than my enemy, more than France. You became my Angel.” Bryce stared into her large blue eyes. They had softened, and for a moment he dared to hope. Would she give up everything for him? Would she lay down her weapon to be his wife?
For a long moment, nothing happened. Then he saw her fingers tighten around the handle of the blade. It was only instinct that saved him from her blow as he raised his own weapon and blocked her swing.
The swords rang out through the battlefield.
“Do not make me fight you. I do not want that, Ryen,” he stated between the crossed weapons. “I want you willing.”
“Willing?” she echoed.
“Willing to spend your life with me. Willing to be my wife.”
“You want me?” she asked in disbelief, yanking her weapon back.
“I have wanted you since the first day I saw you,” Bryce stated. He saw the conflict in her until her brows crashed together and he had to block another swing.
“I will not yield to you,” she ground out between clenched teeth.
“Then I have no choice,” Bryce said. He swung mightily, meaning to knock the sword from her hands, but Ryen blocked the blow, using two hands to hold her weapon. The blades crossed and he stared at her between the sharp edges of their swords. “You cannot possibly win under my strength.” He forced the weapons closer and closer until their lips were almost touching. “Believe what I say, Angel. I love you with all my heart.”
She faltered and he easily pushed forward, brushing her lips with his. He could have won, he had no doubt, but it was far more pleasurable to feel the warmth of her soft lips than the taste of victory. His body trembled with wanting, not just physical, but the need for her at his side, with him always.
When he pulled slightly away, he saw her eyes darken with desire. “If you yield, you swear fealty to me,” he stated quietly. “It means forsaking your family, your country, to remain at my side. You would never be able to return to France. Would you give that up for me?”
Her lips moved and he could have sworn they had whispered an affirmation. But in the next moment she was shoving him away. He fell onto his back and barely had time to roll out of the way before her sword arced to the ground. “Do you think I betray my vows so easily?”
He pushed himself to his feet.
“You must defeat me first, Prince of Darkness,” she challenged. “Then and only then can I swear fealty to you.”
Bryce’s eyes narrowed and his spine stiffened as he drew himself up straighter. “As you wish,” he answered. He raised his arm, swinging the blade. Ryen deflected the blow and countered with an arc toward his side. Bryce stepped back and dodged, spinning to attack again.
The blade slammed down above Ryen’s head and she parried with a mighty swing.
She is an admirable opponent, Bryce thought. Yet even as I enjoy the swordplay, I must bring this to an end. He attacked Ryen relentlessly, driving her further and further back under a barrage of powerful swings and blows. But Ryen was quick, easily dodging or deflecting his attacks.
Finally, with a loud growl of frustration, Bryce swung his blade. Ryen’s sword was knocked loose from her hand and the blade spun into the air. She slipped in the mud and went down to her knee.
Bryce paused for a long moment, breathing heavily. Her head was down, her long hair wet with rain, falling to the ground. He stepped forward and calmly put the tip of his sword beneath her lovely neck. With the slightest hint of pressure, he forced her head up until her eyes locked with his.
He could read no emotion in those deep blue eyes. “Yield to me, my Angel,” he whispered.
She moved her body slightly and did not say a word. Then a small smile slid over her lips and she replied, “I can think of no one better to spend the rest of my life with, no one I love more.”
His face exploded with joy and a smile that threatened to clear up the gray skies. He lowered his sword and took her chin in his hand to study every detail of her face, her rain-moistened skin, her mist-kissed lips, and those sapphire eyes that had captured his heart. “You are everything I could possibly want. I have been a fool not to recognize my happiness for what it is. I love you, Angel.” His gloved fingers traced her cheeks from her soft hairline to her lips. “You are so beautiful.”
Ryen’s mouth dropped open. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“More than all of England.”
“Then…when you were my prisoner…under the truth powder –”
Bryce grinned, a boyish, shy smile that filled Ryen’s heart completely. “It was the only truthful thing I told you that day.” He was drawing closer to kiss her when he felt something press against his ribs. He glanced down to see a small dag
ger in her hand resting against the gap in his armor.
He pulled back sharply to gaze into her eyes once more.
“We’ll never know,” she whispered.
He frowned as she lowered the weapon. “Know what?” he asked.
“Who’s the better warrior,” she murmured, and leaned forward to press her lips against his.
Bryce framed her head with his hands, pulling her to her feet without breaking the kiss. She had yielded…she had yielded of her own accord! The better warrior, he thought. But the kiss deepened and he pulled her closer against him.
Then he scooped her up into his arms and spun her around in the misty rain, joyous laughter bubbling from his throat.
Epilogue
France
Darkness descended over the hillside, covering it like a blanket. The flickering lights of campfires dotted the darkness. In a thicket not far from the camp, a hooded figure huddled in the shadows thrown by giant trees.
Jean Claude De Bouriez stepped into the thicket under the watchful gaze of the silent figure. He glanced about the small clearing and stood motionless for a long moment.
Then the hooded figure moved into the moonlight, its pale glow washing over him, making his robe glow. Jean Claude’s head turned. He stared hard, perusing the figure from head to toe.
Slowly a slender hand emerged from the folds of the robe and pushed back the hood. Dark hair tumbled riotously from the confines of the material. Ryen De Bouriez, now Ryen Princeton, stood proudly and somewhat uncertainly before her father, trying to see into his unreadable eyes. She did not move forward, but waited cautiously. “You wanted to see me?”
“Ryen,” he gasped, and she heard the pain that gripped his voice.
Ryen’s heart coiled tightly and she stepped closer. “We’ve brought Lucien back.”
Jean Claude nodded. “Yes. He’s safely in camp,” he replied. “He is determined to return to England for you.”
Ryen shook her head. “Do not let him.”
Jean Claude looked away from her toward the bright moon. “Ryen. I thought you were dead. I – I cursed myself…”
Anguish twisted Ryen’s heart. “Father –”
He shook his head. “Then the ransom came to Dumas. Oh, Ryen. I was wrong. I never should have betrothed you to him. I did not realize what I had done until I thought you were gone.”
Ryen stepped toward him.
“Please,” Jean Claude said, holding up his hands and bowing his head. “Let me finish. I will never see you again. You will not be able to return to France. I must disavow you, Ryen.”
Ryen raised her chin. “I understand.”
Jean Claude shook his head sadly. “I will not see my grandchildren grow and become fine warriors. Most importantly, I will not see your happiness.” He lifted his head to her and Ryen saw the tears glisten in his eyes. “I want you to be happy, little one. I have failed you.”
“No, Father,” Ryen stressed. “You have made me strong.”
“I have hurt you,” he insisted. When Ryen shook her head, he added quickly, “Do not deny it is so. I have seen the agony in your eyes.”
“Do you see agony now?” she wondered.
“No,” he replied with a sigh. Hesitantly, he reached out and took her hand in his own. “My child.”
Ryen watched the play of emotions over his features. Sorrow crept its way into the somber scowl he wore; regret rent his brows into a furrow. Finally, these emotions dissolved and acceptance speckled his relaxed features. He suddenly looked old. Old and tired.
Tears glistened in her eyes. She would never see him again and she wanted to say so much. Tell him how much she would miss him.
“You love him.” It was half statement, half question.
“With all my heart,” Ryen replied.
Jean Claude nodded. “As I did your mother.”
He nodded his head and a sad smile twitched the corner of his lip, longing filling his eyes. But there was something else there, too. Beneath the pain and the acceptance, Ryen saw it. It was the same look he had bestowed on Lucien and Andre so long ago. As he gazed down at her, his eyes glowed, a slight grin on his lips. Pride puffed up his chest. “You are a fine knight, Ryen,” he said sincerely. “You always have been.”
Tears welled in Ryen’s eyes and she threw her arms around his strong shoulders. For a moment, she enjoyed the feeling of his embrace. “I love you, Father,” she whispered finally.
She felt him squeeze her tightly.
“Ryen,” a voice from behind her called softly.
She stepped away from her father and turned. Another hooded figure, taller and broader than she, stood waiting in the shadows. Ryen saw the glint of a sword beneath the robe he wore.
“We must go.”
Ryen nodded at Bryce and turned back to her father. His hands dropped to his side, but she caught one of them and held it tightly. When she stepped back, he did not release her hand. Only when she had taken another step did he relinquish his grip on her.
Ryen took one more step backward, watching her father, trying to memorize his face. Then she turned and walked into the shadows where Bryce waited. Her head was bowed for a long moment, and when she looked up at him, he nodded and gently touched her cheek. Then he reached around her to pull the hood up over her head. He grasped her hand tightly. “Our war is finished, Angel,” Bryce whispered.
Together, the Angel of Death and the Prince of Darkness disappeared into the shadows of the night…
- The End -
About Laurel O'Donnell
Critically acclaimed novelist Laurel O’Donnell sold her first book, The Angel and the Prince, to Kensington after being a Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart finalist. She has gone on to win many more awards including the Holt Medallion Award for A Knight of Honor and the International Digital Award for Angel’s Assassin.
Born in Chicago, Illinois, Laurel began writing in junior high school when she carried a pen and paper around wherever she went. In college, she took fiction writing classes to further her skill. Her love of the medieval time period led her to work at King Richard’s Faire in Wisconsin where she learned stage combat and sword fighting. The Faire fed her insatiable appetite for the medieval era.
Laurel has many books yet to write and hopes you will join her on her journey to bring the medieval era to life!
Please visit Laurel at her website www.laurel-odonnell.com for the latest information about upcoming releases, contests, and to contact her.
More Books by Laurel O'Donnell
Medieval Romance Boxed Sets!
Heroic Tales of Medieval Romance
Heroic Tales of Medieval Romance on Amazon
Heroic Tales of Medieval Romance contains four full-length medieval romance novels! My Noble Knight, Midnight Shadow, The Lady and the Falconer, and A Knight of Honor.
Legends of Medieval Romance - The Complete Angel Assassin's Trilogy
Legends of Medieval Romance contains the complete Angel's Assassin collection, including Angel's Assassin, Cherished Protector of Her Heart, and Beloved in His Eyes.
Legends of Medieval Romance on Amazon
Medieval Romance Novels
My Noble Knight
My Noble Knight on Amazon
A #1 Best-Seller in Medieval Romance!
Layne Fletcher desires to joust in a real tournament, using the skills she has been taught by her brothers. Griffin Wolfe, an honorable knight discovers her facade and demands restitution. Will he be able to teach her how to behave like a lady and hide his attraction to her while keeping his focus on the jousting tournament?
A Knight With Grace
A Knight With Grace on Amazon
Book One in the Assassin Knights series!
Lady Grace Willoughby defies her father’s orders to marry Sir William de Tracy and escapes with a friend. She has no intention of wedding a cursed man, a man ostracized from the church, a man who would only doom any future children they might have to the fires of Hell. She prays
for a knight to rescue her.
Angel's Assassin
Angel's Assassin on Amazon
Winner of the International Digital Award!
Damien is an assassin, a man with no home and a tortured past. Sold into slavery as a young boy, he is trained to kill with cold calculation, without remorse. Lady Aurora of Acquitaine is the epitome of purity and goodness, beloved by all her people. When Damien enters Aurora’s life, tempting her with promises of dark passion and forbidden lust, he threatens to tear her peaceful world apart.
The Lady and the Falconer
The Lady and the Falconer on Amazon
“Medieval readers will find The Lady and the Falconer a highly satisfying, well crafted story that fills their craving for a tale of medieval intrigue and passion.” - Romantic Times Magazine
A mysterious Falconer. A ravishing green-eyed Lady. A castle under siege. A killer hiding among them. Traitors are revealed. Family loyalties are betrayed. Can hated enemies find common ground in each other's arms? The Lady and the Falconer is an exciting medieval romance filled with action, intrigue, suspense and a desire that defies every sinister obstacle put in its path.
A Knight of Honor
A Knight of Honor on Amazon
Winner of the Holt Medallion Award for Best Medieval Novel!
Taylor Sullivan is a raven-haired hellion fleeing the flames that destroyed her family. She arms herself with a quick sword and a sharp tongue, hiring herself out as a mercenary, willing to do whatever it takes to survive. Slane Donovan is a knight of honor, sworn to uphold his oath and his word. He seeks the woman who wears the Sullivan ring, determined to bring her back to Castle Donovan.
Midnight Shadow
Midnight Shadow on Amazon
When the unjust rules of a neighboring lord terrorize her friends, a Lady dons the mask and cloak of her childhood hero to right the wrongs and save them from oppression. Torn between the woman he longs to trust and the outlaw he has vowed to hang, a Lord vows to find the truth. Will a legendary hero find love in the arms of her enemy?
Heroes of Honor: Historical Romance Collection Page 54