by M. Lynn
Tyson’s chest rose and fell steadily beside her. He was so close yet so far away. Her arrest put a distance between them that hadn’t been there before.
The village needed a warrior, John had said. Someone with good intentions and an even better aim.
She rolled over and away from Ty. The queen, Ty’s own mother, had taken the only thing that belonged to Amalie. Her estate. And she’d ignored the village beyond those walls. Amalie climbed from the bed and paced across the cold stone floor, weighing the decision in her mind.
The people needed John. With a final glance at Tyson, she pulled on a cloak over her silk sleeping gown and drew the hood up over her hair.
There was no time left for indecision. Two weeks had passed since her imprisonment and each day felt as stifling as the one before. She stepped from the room and walked toward the stairs that would take her to the lower level.
The lone guard outside the cells was one she’d heard laughing about the traitorous villagers getting what they deserved. Her father forced them into a situation that now meant the crown would not come to their aid. They’d marched to the gates of the palace, ready to fight because they’d had no other choice. They didn’t get to decide if they’d betray their king, yet they were labeled traitors all the same.
If he wasn’t already dead, she’d have turned her father in herself.
She crept in the shadows readying herself to make the jump Etta had taught her. When a man is bigger than you, incapacitate him before he knows you’re there. And don’t let him see your face.
She stood on the bottom step, judging the distance. Releasing a shuddering breath, she bent her knees and launched herself at the man, driving him sideways into a wall. Flattening her palm against the back of his head, she slammed it sideways into the stone. He collapsed to the ground, and she landed on top of him.
Rolling off, she unclipped the keys from his belt and ran toward the cells.
John must have heard the commotion because he was already on his feet. She unlocked his cell. He didn’t speak as he gave her a quick hug.
Before she could stop him, he crouched beside the guard, drew the other man’s knife, and slid it across his throat.
Revulsion rolled through Amalie. “What are you doing?” she hissed.
“Do you want your estate back?”
“The queen will just send more of them.”
He shook his head. “I overheard this one say she no longer cared about the Leroy lands. That she didn’t have the stomach to keep them.”
Amalie hugged her arms over her chest as she watched the candlelight flicker across the guard’s crimson blood. The John she’d known as a child wouldn’t have the ability to end a man’s life without even a flicker of emotion.
“Come on.” He tugged her arm.
Each guard they met faced a similar end. John cut through them with precision and coldness until each of the guards were only a symbol of what the queen did to her. A carcass of trust now broken.
The Leroy men on guard held no regard for the queen’s men and left them to their fates, disappearing into the barracks to avoid the deadly assassin in their midst.
John left as he’d come, the ghost of a future that scared Amalie. Before he left, he made her promise to meet him in the woods two days hence. She’d agreed, never planning to fulfill the promise.
He left her with an estate full of dead men, the looming prospect of life painted as a traitor, and the exhilarating knowledge that she’d taken back what was rightfully hers.
When she climbed back into bed in the early hours of the morning, her husband pulled her frozen limbs against his heated ones, letting her cold heart meld with his warm soul. She changed with each passing moment, and she feared more than anything leaving him behind.
Present
When Amalie woke that morning three years ago, the bodies of the slain royal guards were gone, but rumors remained. That was the day Tyson began seeing her for something other than the sweet noble lady he’d met at court. The one who’d spent her entire life believing she’d marry his brother, the king.
But still, he hadn’t seen their end coming as she had. Tyson was always too good for his circumstances.
Now, she dug her heels into the flanks of her horse and wound through the village streets with Tuck close behind her. Feeling for her bow tied to the saddle behind her, she clenched her jaw. Her fault. If John hurt Tyson, she’d never forgive herself. Somehow, keeping her secret wasn’t as important anymore. Protecting herself wasn’t worth what could happen to Tyson out there among her men.
She snapped her reins, picking up speed as the horse’s hooves pounded along the path leading from the village into the woods. Wild trees gave way to well-used and familiar paths that marked the way to the forest dwelling created by a few of her wanted men who could no longer show their faces in public.
She stopped at the twisted tree she knew so well. “I hope we aren’t too late.”
Tuck nodded grimly. They’d both known the type of men they consorted with. Even John, someone Amalie had known as a shy little boy, never tried to hide the danger inside him. She loved them all despite their darkness and sometimes because of it.
But she’d never expected that darkness to affect Tyson as well.
Rustling sounded from the trees behind her and she froze. As much as she wanted to save Tyson, she also didn’t want outsiders stumbling upon the forest dwelling. Those who wouldn’t understand her need to protect the rough men who lived there.
The enclave wasn’t too far off the road. To any passing traveler, it only looked like a small grouping of simple folk… as long as they didn’t linger long.
But someone was following her. She stepped off the path and her boots sank into the soft, leaf-covered floor. Tendrils of white moss hung from the branches above like a veil.
A stick snapped, and she gestured to Tuck as she raised her bow. Her friend had already drawn his sword and lunged into a bush to his left.
A grunt exited the twisted thicket before Tuck pulled Edmund free. Amalie breathed out heavily and lowered her weapon. “What are you doing hiding in the woods, Edmund?”
He pushed Tuck off him and rested a hand on the knife sticking from his belt, a move Amalie didn’t miss.
Edmund’s face darkened, a look she’d rarely seen on him. “I was looking for Tyson.” He brushed his hand down his pants to rid them of the leaves clinging to the fabric.
“I figured.” Amalie matched his scowl. “But that doesn’t explain why you were in a bush.”
“I saw them take him.” He glanced to Tuck. “You told me to leave, but there’s something you don’t know about me. I never abandon my friends. I’ve been looking out for Tyson since before La Dame tried to destroy Bela. I’m sorry, but your word that no harm would come to him wasn’t enough for me.”
Amalie met his eyes. “What did you see? When they…” She swallowed. “Took him.”
“A group of men I assume were working for you jumped him in an alley. I was watching at a distance but by the time I’d sprinted across the market square, they were gone. I tracked them to the woods, but heard someone coming and didn’t have time to think. I jumped for the nearest cover.”
It made sense. Tuck didn’t know Edmund, but Amalie did. She knew Edmund would never allow Ty to be put in danger unless he was by his side.
Tyson wasn’t any different. He’d give his life for Edmund. When they were wed, Tyson’s desire to go home was one of the things tearing them apart. He felt he’d abandoned his family and was torn between staying with her and returning to Bela. She’d refused to move to Bela when she was needed in Gaule, but eventually she’d pushed him to go home.
Finally, she broke eye contact. “There are dwellings up ahead.”
Edmund narrowed his eyes. “I know who you are, Amalie Leroy. And I don’t trust you. If something happens to Tyson, nowhere will be safe for the Hood.” He started walking. “I felt like you should know.”
What she didn’t
say was if something happened to Tyson, there wasn’t anywhere she’d hide. She’d let them have her.
“Edmund,” she called. “I appreciate the threat and all, but I feel like I need to tell you something as well.”
He froze, but kept his back to her. “What?”
“You’re going the wrong way.”
He turned and brushed past her without another word.
For so long, the Hood had been a mask she wore to protect her from herself. Amalie Leroy had lost everything. The Hood gave her a purpose. But what if that mask took from her as well? What if Tyson wasn’t lost because of her family name, but her secret one?
Then who would she be?
How could she hide her brokenness when each face she wore bore the same cracks?
Chapter Fourteen
Tyson struggled to retreat from the quiet of his own mind. Fog invaded the space between sleeping and waking. A dim light came into focus as he opened his eyes. A candle sat on a table beside where he lay on the floor of a one-room hovel.
His eyes searched the darkened surroundings. When had night come? A thin pallet lay only feet from him, so why was he on the packed dirt floor?
His head throbbed, a reminder of what happened. Someone abducted him. Was this how Simon disappeared too?
His eyes flew to the door as voices entered on the chilly breeze. The Hood could stand just on the other side of that door.
Tuck’s words came back to him. He truly believed the Hood was a force for good. But no one good abducted a prince and held him prisoner.
A hand pushed the door flap open, revealing a man Tyson had seen twice before. Tyson’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. John Little was supposed to be dead, shot by an arrow and buried in an unmarked grave outside the Gaulean palace walls.
The beard still coated his cheeks, but Tyson got the distinct impression it didn’t belong there, as if the man was trying to hide.
He probably was. As soon as they’d realized his body was missing, his mother would have issued a warrant for the man’s arrest.
A grim smile settled on John’s face. “Hello, Prince Tyson.”
Tyson ground his teeth together. “What does the Hood want with me?”
John stopped in front of him and crouched down. Tyson wasn’t restrained. He could have attacked the Hood’s man right there, but how many more were outside that door? He felt for his sword, knowing it was gone before brushing his hand over the empty scabbard. He could use his magic, but how many people would he have to kill?
John studied him for a moment. “The Hood does not know you’re here, but she will understand.”
Tyson’s blood froze. She? After all his searching, this was his first clue. But to follow the lead, he’d have to get free.
“Listen to me, Prince, and listen closely. I don’t want to hurt you. Believe it or not, the Hood doesn’t appreciate violence. But I care more for protecting her than making her proud, so I will do what I must.”
Tyson swallowed. “What do you want from me?”
John straightened. “The most valuable thing you own. Information.” He reached down and hauled Tyson to his feet before pushing him out the door.
Tyson stumbled before righting himself and taking in his surroundings. Tall, thin trees stood in a circle around a clearing. At his back, a row of small ramshackle forest dwellings sat, looking as if mud and rusted nails held them together. Was this how people outside the villages lived?
Faces swam before him, each one rougher than the next. Hard eyes glared at him. These were the kind of people the Hood associated with? And yet, Tuck was convinced of the nobility of her fight.
There was nothing noble about these men. Only one woman stood among them, her skirt soiled with dirt. Thick black curls fell about her shoulders, and a grim smile slid across her lips. Tyson looked away.
How did he get here? A prisoner in the woods of a kingdom he both hated and loved. A prince tasked with a mission doomed to fail.
John gripped the back of his neck and urged him forward. “Welcome to our home, Prince.” He gestured to the group before him. “Meet the Merry Men of the forest.”
The Merry Men. He’d heard that term before.
John continued. “The king’s guard raided a village four days ago. There were rumors of Hood impersonators tearing up the countryside.” He bent and jerked Tyson’s head back so their gazes locked. “Tell us everything you know.”
Everything he knew? Tyson had never been invited to take part in any of his mother’s schemes, but he had a hard time believing she’d ordered the raid of one of her own villages.
“I know nothing.”
John released his head, straightened, and circled Tyson. His foot collided with Tyson’s back, sending him sprawling into the dirt. He spit dirt and rocks from his mouth with a groan. A tingling began in his fingertips as his magic begged for an escape. He could end this right now, but what good would that do?
If he escaped now without resolution, they’d only come for him again. And they were his only connection to the Hood. If he wanted to succeed in his mission, he had to hold his power back. At least for now.
Getting his arms under him, he pushed himself onto his knees.
John paced in front of him. “I know of the power you possess, Tyson Durand. And I do not fear it. You need us as much as we need you.”
“You have some way of showing it.” Tyson wiped the dirt from his face.
John stopped moving. “When are they coming?”
“Who?”
“The guard!” His scream echoed through the woods. “When will they be upon us? How much time do we have to evacuate our people from the village?”
Tyson pulled back in surprise. How many of them were there? If he was being honest, he hoped the guard wouldn’t come at all. His mother sent him on this mission for a reason. She’d betrayed Amalie once when she took control of the Leroy estate—even if she never believed Amalie would return to Gaule. She wouldn’t send in the guard to terrorize a village on the Leroy lands. But as long as Simon was missing, the queen would be unpredictable.
Yet, there was a reason they’d called Tyson from Bela. He was the one person his mother thought could accomplish anything under the watchful eye of Amalie.
She’d underestimated the girl’s hatred of the prince.
Tyson didn’t tell them that. He didn’t say there was nothing to fear yet. Instead, he climbed to his feet.
A few of the people watching drew their weapons.
Tyson ignored them. He saw his chance and had no choice but to take it. “The guard moves swiftly over the land, giving my mother a long reach. It’s almost too late. You’ll never get your people out in time.”
“How long?” John growled.
“Even if I knew the answer, I wouldn’t tell you.”
A roar ripped from John and he slammed his fist into Tyson’s stomach. Tyson doubled over, trying to catch his breath. A force drove him to his knees, and his magic swirled within. It wanted to fight, was meant to fight.
A kick knocked him onto his side. The last thing he saw was a boot flying toward his head as a piercing scream ripped through the air.
“Noooooo!”
Amalie?
But he was already gone, lost in a darkness where the sun never rose.
Chapter Fifteen
“John!” Amalie ran into the clearing. She was too late.
John froze with his knife hovering over Tyson’s still form. “You shouldn’t be here, Amalie.”
“And neither should you.” She pushed through her men who were looking anywhere but at her. She’d had no delusions about those she allied herself with, but seeing them hover over an unconscious Tyson, made her rethink every choice she’d made since becoming the Hood.
She dropped to her knees at Tyson’s side and felt his neck for the telltale thumping that would allow her to breathe again.
Tuck and Edmund moved to each side of her, keeping John at a distance. She dropped her bow on the ground
and pushed the hair out of Tyson’s face.
He never changed. When the world turned around them, everything becoming unrecognizable, his face remained the same.
Tears pushed at her eyelids, but she refused to let her men see how much Tyson meant to her. He was supposed to be the past, a pretty fantasy crafted by a girl who’d been raised to be a noble lady. The Hood was emotionless, strong.
When two worlds collided, she no longer wanted to be strong.
Edmund, sword drawn, pointed it at Alan, Gilbert, and Regina who watched them with cautious eyes. They wouldn’t come near or threaten them, not while she was there. But Edmund didn’t know that. He didn’t know that she’d suffered much alongside these people. That they’d become her family when she’d had none. That they’d healed her when she was broken.
Tuck put a hand on Edmund’s arm. “It’s okay. They aren’t a threat.”
Edmund shifted his glare to Tuck. “We found them beating Tyson into unconsciousness and you tell me they aren’t a threat? I could kill them for what they did, and it would be well deserved.”
Amalie had once wished someone was as loyal to her as Edmund, Tyson, and Alex had always been to each other. She’d longed for that kind of bond.
Now that she had it, it threatened to drown every other part of her life. She flattened her palm against Tyson’s chest one final time before wrapping her fingers around her bow and standing.
She hated what they’d done to Tyson, but it had a purpose. “What did he tell you?”
Edmund turned to her. “That’s what you care about? They abducted him and beat him, yet this is what you do now? Will we find Simon beaten in some cell?”
Amalie ignored him, focusing on John.
John glanced once more at Tyson before facing her. “Nothing. The man is as useless as he always was.”
She shook her head. John hadn’t known Tyson well. After Ty left, she’d sent John with a letter she hoped would bring Tyson back to her. In it, she wrote the words that should have shaped their future, but that letter was written by a scared girl facing her own mortality. Tyson never returned, and all John brought her were regrets from the man she’d thought had loved her.