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I hurried forward to the gate of the cell.
“I’ll give you a clean path to Hell, free of your crimes against my niece and brother!” The voice grew louder, echoing and bouncing off the walls, carrying down the sectioned corridors of the jailhouse.
I stepped closer, steeled myself, swung in front of the cell—
And my world broke.
“This is what you did to her, you barbarian, and I’ll repay it every—gah—every night! Until you’re bleeding and broken and hate yourself worse than I do!”
Every muscle in my body went rigid at the sight before me. The visual came in spurts, in flashes I’d never forget.
Little John, bent forward over a table. Arms tied down in front of him by the wrists at the other end of the table. Cheek pressed down against the cold stone. Bare from the waist down, struggling with muffled grunts—
As a shorter man stood behind him, bare pants around his knees, bucking his hips wildly as he thrust into my mate from behind. The pelting sound of his hips colliding with John haunted me. Spiraled me into madness.
My jaw dropped.
The man raping Little John felt my presence in the open doorway and his eyes whipped over, his frantic voice cutting off. “Fuck!”
I didn’t recognize him—he was unimpressive, with a plain face and stature. His face looked oily, shining with sweat, and spittle dotted his spotty beard.
A curtain of wrath clouded my vision.
I lifted my dagger and charged in, howling, “You fucking bastard!”
John heard my voice and his head turned, eyes crinkling with sorrow and pain.
The Sheriff of Nottingham cursed again and stumbled back against the wall. His cock swung out of John and I took aim at the lanky little thing, desperate to unman and kill him.
He pivoted and took my dagger in the side with a grunt.
The feeling of my dagger sinking into his flesh gave me satisfaction, but it was immediately overshadowed by the horror of this scene.
I pulled back to strike again, to jab over and over until blood spurted from every inch of his body—
My head whipped back, pain shooting stars in my eyes as he connected his elbow to the side of my head.
I stumbled, world going hazy.
George rushed forward and hugged me against his slick body. He spun us around so my back was to the wall.
All the training Will had given me got tossed to the side just as I did. Any martial proficiency I had escaped my mind as the sole need to kill rampaged through me.
George shoved me off him with a grunt, and I swung blindly, the sharp ache in my temple making me unsteady and unbalanced.
He dashed for the door, waddling with his pants down as he fled.
I charged, gritting my teeth and blinking the pain from behind my eyes. I tried to regulate my equilibrium by shaking my head, but the pain persisted.
I ran after the man anyway, up to the door, and saw his pale, bare ass escaping into the shadows of the hall.
I threw my dagger aimlessly and it clattered against the ground, far from him.
Then I drew my bow, an arrow, and nocked it. My arm lifted, my aim saw two pairs of asses, yet I closed one eye and shot anyway.
It whistled into the darkness and—
Clank.
