by M. Lynn
“Dammit!” Edmund kicked the wall. “I knew this was a trap.”
“Edmund.” Tyson pressed a hand to Will’s wound and looked up at his panicked friend. “I think the time has come to cease keeping secrets.”
Edmund turned his back to Tyson and breathed out. When he spoke, his voice rumbled through the air. “Will is one of the Merry Men.”
Tyson’s eyes widened. “He’s the Hood’s man?”
Edmund finally turned to face him. “You need to go Ty. I’ll help Will. The Hood needs you. Ander’s guards knew he’d be watched. They counted on it. They’ll find her.”
“Why me?” Tyson swallowed. “Why is she our concern? Stop lying to me, Edmund.”
“You don’t need me to say it, Ty.”
Tyson pulled his hand away from Will and jumped to his feet. He stumbled back. It couldn’t be true. “Amalie,” he whispered, knowing the truth in his gut. He should have known the moment he saw John alive.
He’d have to sort through it all later, because she needed him. He ran from the alley, scanning the rooftops as he did. She’d have to be around there somewhere. A troop of palace guards ran along the shadows on the other side of the street that led toward the woods. Their recognizable armor shone in the moonlight. Anders wouldn’t be among them. Tyson was sure of it. But they’d find the Hood’s trail.
He sprinted after them, veering off the stone streets of the village to head into the woods he’d never wanted to visit again.
“I’m coming, Ames.”
Drawing his sword, he prepared to meet the first group of guards. He lifted his free hand, curling his fingers into a fist to draw moisture from the damp earth. His magic molded it, expanded it. He’d almost reached them when he opened his palm, sending a blast of water at the three guards. The force knocked them to the ground sputtering. Before they could pick themselves up, Tyson was there with his sword.
He told himself he was doing the right thing. These guards weren’t his mother’s normal men. No, they belonged to Anders, and the captain only accepted those into his service who took no issue with finding wanted men of Gaule by any means necessary. They terrorized villages, stole from the poor, and brutalized any who held information.
Tyson’s sword cut a clean path through the men. They never stood a chance.
He didn’t slow even as his legs grew heavy. Using that amount of magic weakened him after his recent injuries.
He curled his fingers tighter around the hilt of his sword and pushed through hanging branches, stumbling over a fallen tree.
He didn’t slow until he caught sight of more guards surrounding a small figure in a hood. She shifted from foot to foot, never lowering her bow.
“Try to come closer.” She turned to aim the arrow at a guard behind her. “I dare you.”
The four guards advanced as one, and the Hood danced between them, dodging arcs of their swords. She released an arrow, striking one of the guards in the neck. She nocked a new one before he’d even collapsed.
The guard in front lunged toward her, and she bent backward. The sword skimmed the front of her tunic, missing her body entirely. When she straightened, she wasted no time in pulling another arrow free and ramming it under the guard’s chin.
Two more.
Tyson reached her as she fought one guard. The second jumped for her, his sword almost reaching her back before Ty’s blade blocked it.
Tyson kicked his foot out, catching the man in the stomach. He grunted, but didn’t fall. All sound from the other fight ceased as Tyson continued to fight off the man in front of him. Their blades locked together.
“I know you, Prince,” the guard growled. “Why do you protect this whore?”
Anger burned through Tyson, and his magic swirled in his fingertips. Water rose from the earth, and the guard’s eyes widened seconds before a torrent of water flooded his throat. He coughed and sputtered, dropping his sword.
Tyson release the last of his magic, and the guard crumbled to the ground.
A voice sounded behind Tyson. “You drowned him.”
Tyson’s shoulders dropped as the energy drained from him. He turned toward the Hood, the shadows still hiding her face. But he knew her. He’d always known her.
He crossed the space between them in three strides and pushed back her hood.
Amalie’s wide eyes greeted him, and relief flooded his mind. She was safe.
“Ty,” she whispered. “I’m—”
He cut off her words by crushing his lips to hers. She stilled for only a moment before gripping his shoulders and spinning him so his back hit the nearest tree.
Adrenaline raced through him, and he remembered Amalie’s every dip, every curve. The shape of her lips had once been burned into his mind. He’d tried so hard to forget, but he realized in that moment, there was no forgetting Amalie Leroy.
She gave him life.
He pressed his palms against the rough bark of the tree and rested his forehead against hers. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Ty,” she breathed. “Your mother sent you here to hunt me down.”
He wished he could erase every bit of pain in her eyes. “You had to know I’d have protected you. Always.”
A tear slid down her cheek, and he wiped it away before kissing her once again. This time, he took it slow, soaking in every emotion she brought out in him.
She put a hand to his chest and pushed him away with a shake of her head. “Don’t you get it, Ty? I can protect myself now. I needed you once, and you didn’t come.” She brushed past him, but he grabbed her arm.
“Ames, you forced me to leave. I didn’t have a choice.”
She pulled her arm free. “And when I called for you? When I sent John with the letter? What then?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Ames, you know me.”
She stepped away. “I thought I did once. I won’t make the same mistake again.”
Her feet crashed through leaves and sticks as she widened the distance between them until Tyson couldn’t see her anymore. He leaned back against the tree and rested a finger against his lips.
Chapter Nineteen
Two Years Ago
Death came calling as Amalie thrashed her head from side to side. Pain ripped through her, and she knew her end was near. At least the child was now free of its mother’s ailing body. A healthy girl she couldn’t bring herself to name.
She thought she could ignore the child growing inside her, that her life as the Hood didn’t have to end.
She was wrong. It wasn’t only the Hood who would disappear from Gaule, but Amalie Leroy as well. Would anyone mourn the daughter of a traitor, the sister of a traitor?
“They’re all gone.” Tears blurred her vision as a cough shook her chest.
“Who, Ames?” Tuck knelt beside her, gripping her hand. “Who is gone?”
“My father. My sister.” She sucked in a breath, feeling it burn in her lungs. “Tyson.”
Tuck shook his head. “Tyson is coming. He’ll be here.”
Each word was a struggle. “Shouldn’t…” She took a short breath. “Have sent letter.”
Tuck bowed his head. “Amalie, Tyson loves you. He’ll be here.”
Six months ago, she’d forced the man she loved to return to Bela. He’d fought for her, but she couldn’t let him become involved in what she saw as her future. The life of an outlaw was not something one wished on the ones they loved. He hadn’t seen it then, but she’d done it for him.
At the time, she didn’t know of their child.
But now she was weak. In her final moments, she needed him. The burden she’d place on Tyson by allowing him to come was one she knew he’d accept. Especially after the letter she’d sent John to deliver begging Tyson to return to her. She told him of the child, but not her illness.
Tuck jumped to his feet as John burst into the room. “Is he with you?”
John fell to his knees at Amalie’s bedside, and his eyes scanned her face. “I was so wor
ried I’d be too late.” He buried his face in her shoulder. “I love you, Amalie.”
She attempted a smile as he lifted his face and placed a kiss on her forehead.
Tuck gripped John’s shoulder and pulled him up. “Where is he?”
Amalie had seen despair many times before, but when John looked to her with glassy eyes, she knew the words he wanted to say. She’d never imagined silence could break her more than her failing body had.
“He didn’t come,” she rasped.
John shook his head. “I delivered the letter, but he would not return to Gaule.”
She bit her lip to still its quivering and nodded. “Then I am ready.”
“No, Ames.” John pointed to the door. “I retrieved something better than Tyson Durand.”
A caramel skinned young woman stepped from the shadows of the doorway. Candlelight lit her corkscrew curls.
“I know you.” Amalie tried to push herself up, but failed.
“I am Maiya.” The girl smiled.
The Draconian healer. Amalie’s eyes widened. She’d taken Alexandre Durand to Maiya and her father when he suffered a curse. The Draconians had magic, but not that of the Belaens. Theirs was a prized healing power.
John moved out of the way to allow Maiya near the bed.
Maiya pulled a knife free of her belt and cut away the fabric of Amalie’s tunic. She stopped when the skin just below Amalie’s neck was exposed.
Amalie held her breath as Maiya placed her palms on the bared skin. After a moment where nothing happened, warmth seeped into Amalie, chasing the chill away. It spread down her chest, easing Amalie’s breathing before attacking the pain in her lower abdomen. Amalie’s skin buzzed with the power.
She’d spent many years in the Draconian war surrounded by those with magic in their blood, but she’d never experienced it for herself. She’d never felt as if it was a part of her.
In the moments after Tyson Durand broke her heart for the last time, she finally understood him. The magic was everything.
After a while, Maiya pulled her hands back, her chest heaving from the exertion. She wiped sweat from her eyes. “You will live Amalie, but you will remain weak for some time. My magic used your own body’s energy to heal. Eventually, you will be whole.”
When death comes, it is supposed to take you away from the pain of life. It’s supposed to be unbeatable. Amalie had longed for the relief of death.
Worse than dying was being forced to live.
In the end, Tyson never came. But a dying girl sent that letter. Amalie Leroy grew weak in her final moments.
The Hood was her strength. That identity was all that mattered now. One of the maids entered the room holding a baby girl that could have no place in that world.
Amalie turned her face away. “Take her. Please.” In order to protect the child, she had to let her go.
Present
Amalie threw her bow on the table as she entered her sitting room. Why did Tyson have to kiss her? She wanted to hate him, needed to hate him.
Yet, being that close to him, felt just as it had before. He was her family, once. Her whole world. Legally, he was still her husband. Practically, he was the man sent to arrest her.
And then there was Anders. She cursed as she poured a cup of wine. After taking a sip, she slammed the cup down. Burgundy liquid splashed over the sides, but she didn’t care. None of it mattered anymore. Not her house or the estate.
Even her mission as the Hood seemed to be ending. Could she continue while the queen kept sending her people in search of a criminal? They already knew the Hood operated on her lands. How long would it be before they connected her to the outlaw?
“It was a trap,” she growled before picking up her cup and chugging the rest of the wine. “A trap.” Anger burned through her, and she hurled her empty cup against the wall before ripping the hood from her head and dropping it to the ground. She stomped back into the corridor and went in search of Tuck, finding him outside the barracks.
“How’s Will?” She’d calmed enough to hide her anger.
“Lucky the wound wasn’t deep.” Tuck ran a tired hand through his hair. “Edmund brought him back, and Maiya has tended his injury.”
“Good, what of the others?”
“Cameron awaits orders. Do you want me to send for John as well?”
She considered that for a moment. Did she trust John after what he’d done to Ty? Should she care about what happened to Ty? John protected her with every breath he took… but he was unpredictable. She shook her head. “No. We fell into Anders’ trap, and he is still a danger. We don’t want to make contact. Tell Cameron to assign a watch to Anders for the duration of his time here. He’ll know he’s being watched so we must be careful he can’t connect them to us here at the estate. Cam is to only use men from the forest, not those who also serve here. Send our guards to the forest instead. There are men to bury.”
Tuck nodded and moved to walk away.
“Tuck,” she called one final time.
He turned.
“Has Tyson returned yet?”
He dipped his head. “I’m sorry, Amalie. He has not.”
She gestured for him to go before entering the barracks to check on Will. Where would Tyson have gone in the middle of the night? She tried not to worry that something happened to him, but worrying was part of who she was.
She’d always fear for those she cared about and despite all desire to stop, she cared about the prince.
Chapter Twenty
Tyson knew he shouldn’t return to the woods where the outlaws lived. There would be no warm welcome for a prince among thieves in the middle of the night.
The criminal who escaped his mother’s death sentence had things to answer for.
The small huts they called home came into view in the middle of a clearing. No candles burned at this hour. Some of these men and women would be following Anders no doubt, but there was one Tyson hoped was home.
It was time they faced each other. Despite still being weak from using so much magic, the thought of facing John Little didn’t frighten him. Tyson had confronted many worse people in his life.
He barely saw anything else as he made his way to John’s home and slammed his heavy boot into the door. Wood splintered. He kicked again, and the roughly built door burst inward.
Tyson stood in the doorway, his chest heaving as John scrambled from his bed, a long knife in hand.
“What do you want, Prince?”
Tyson stepped forward, drawing his own blade. Blood from the guards he’d slain coated the steel. John’s eyes flicked from the blood to Tyson and narrowed. “What have you done?”
Tyson glanced at the blade as if he hadn’t noticed its state. The silver light made it shine. “I protected her.” He didn’t need to say who he meant.
John swallowed. “Please, tell me what has happened. Is she okay? Is that why you’ve come?”
The fear in John’s eyes matched his own. “You’re in love with her.”
John swallowed but didn’t respond.
Tyson advanced and knocked John’s knife out of his grasp with a flick of his sword. He closed the remaining distance, his eyes wild, and lifted the blade to press the tip against John’s chest. “Years ago, something happened to Amalie. She thinks things of me that are not true. You will tell me the truth.” He gestured back to the bed with his sword. “Sit.”
John lowered himself, never once taking his eyes from Tyson.
“Speak,” Tyson ordered. He lowered his sword and dropped into a chair near the bed. While waiting for John to find the words, he lit the candle on the table beside him, bathing the small room in its orange glow.
John sighed. “You were never supposed to return.”
“Why? Because of Amalie’s mission as the Hood?”
John’s eyes widened in surprise. “You know. Are you going to arrest her and take her to your mother?”
Tyson leaned forward against the hilt of his sword as he dug its tip i
nto the dirt floor. He hadn’t considered what any of this meant. His mind still couldn’t grasp that the shy girl he fell in love with was now one of the kingdom’s greatest outlaws. She must have known where Simon was this entire time. She’d lied and broken laws.
But the thought of watching her dangle from a noose stole every bit of life from his bones. No, just as he’d said to her, he would protect her even if it meant defying his mother.
“If I answer your question…” Tyson fixed his eyes on John. “Will you answer mine?”
John only nodded.
Tyson sighed. “Amalie is safe from me, but this night, one of my mother’s most ruthless captains almost ensnared her.”
John shot to his feet. “I must help her.”
Tyson scowled. “Sit down, man. If she wanted you, she’d have sent for you. Amalie is fine.”
John’s eyes rested on the bloody sword again. “You killed your mother’s men? For the Hood?”
“Make no mistake, John Little. Not every royal guard who comes through these parts is loyal to the queen. I know what you all think of her, but my orders were to bring the Hood in alive and find the guard who’d been abducted. The men who came tonight wanted the Hood dead. That was the captain’s doing. If we are going to protect Amalie, we can’t be trying to beat each other bloody at every opportunity.”
John’s shoulders dropped. “I’ll do anything.”
“I have answered your question, now I need the truth. Amalie claims I didn’t come for her when she asked and somehow I know you were involved.”
“I’ll tell you, but I don’t want you holding a sword while I do.”
Tyson considered him for a moment before setting his sword aside. “I’m waiting.”
John sighed. “Amalie was sick. We thought she was dying. She…” He squeezed his eyes shut as if the words hurt to say. “She wanted you there… in the end. She sent me to Bela with a letter.”
“I received no letter.” Tyson crossed his arms over his chest, his hatred for the man before him making it hard to sit still.