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But my mouth hung open wordlessly.
Because Will wasn’t inside his tent.
Chapter 40
Will Scarlet
Once the ribaldry of camp had died down and everyone had retreated to their tents—or to someone else’s—to sleep, I crept out just north of our glade.
And waited.
Hiding like a shadow in the night, I toyed with a dagger in my palm, spinning it and wrapping my sash around the hilt to see how it looked. Quite regal, if I do say so myself. Not practical, though. The fabric of the sash will get in the way of a good stab. A pity.
Robin had not seemed herself. Her other lovers may have thought everything was rosy. I knew her better than that. Knew her better than Alan, Tuck, and even John did. Or at least I thought so.
She was planning something.
When she denied my advances next to Tuck’s tent, while we watched the goings-on in camp and spoke with lewd words . . . that raised the first alarm bell in my head.
Call me arrogant, but it struck me as odd. It was the first time Robin had ever turned down a secretive tryst like that—a clandestine affair in the middle of the night, which I knew thrilled her. It wasn’t just the pure, animalistic sex we had that ignited her passion for these tight-lipped events. It was also the implication and risk associated with them.
My little thorn and I were both risky individuals. Thrill-seekers. Daredevils. I saw it in her because I saw it in myself, too, and I knew both of us better than I knew anyone.
Robin Hood loved to get fucked when she thought people might be watching, listening, and hearing her lose her mind. She enjoyed the exhibitionism, even if she wouldn’t admit it, and the near-violent sex we’d had on numerous occasions within torchlight of other people was proof of that.
So, I waited.
Nearly an hour passed, and I stayed hidden in the shadow of two trees. There was an odd fog sweeping through camp, which lent an eerie quality to the atmosphere.
Perfect weather to hunt my little thorn and rail her against this tree, I thought blithely, my face slicing with a smile.
I was hard, my hand sliding along the protrusion bulging up near my waist. Nearly uncontainable. My patience was wearing thin, which was alarming because I was typically the most patient hunter out of all of us. It was why I made such an excellent tracker, spy, and scout. I could move where others couldn’t, because of my stature, and I could do it in a way that no one saw me coming.
It was how I’d caught Robin that first time, during our little wager where we ended up wrestling around on the ground in front of the Grinning Oak, both of us seeking the high ground and absolute pleasure.
As I’d told her then: She might have been sprightlier than me, but I knew the forest better. I had years of experience on her, navigating these woods. When she went for the hill that led up and then down to the Grinning Oak, I had already cut a path through briars and rosebushes, not minding the nettles and sting of their needles as I waded knee-deep in wildflower patches.
The pain was worth it, because it helped me catch up to her. It helped me win . . . her.
Ahead of me, coming from camp, a twig snapped.
I sheathed my blade soundlessly, my grin creeping wider.
Finally.
A blur of a shape snuck under low-hanging branches, shuffling forward, trying to not make a peep.
I could read the forest better than my little thorn, and could hear every snapping twig, every cracking leaf underfoot, and every wave of her arm through leafy branches. I could tell the shifting of the wind itself as she pushed through, toward me.
As she drew closer, I finally stepped out to confront her. “I knew you couldn’t stay away, little thorn,” I rumbled low in my chest, hoping to scare her.
Part of our dynamic was the tinge of fear we caused each other. She was frightened of me, even if she wouldn’t admit it, and I was frightened of losing her.
“Just what have you got planned in that fascinating head of yours? Because, unfortunately, I’ve thwarted you once again.”
She inhaled sharply, and I swaggered over to claim my prize, still smiling.
My smile faltered when she didn’t stop. She just kept pushing forward, head bowed, hood drawn, even though she was within arm’s reach now.
