Page 22 of Queen of Sherwood

“But?”

“It goes back to the other but you spoke of. I don’t want to dissuade you, love. I want to make you think.”

“I’m always thinking, Robin. It’s half my problem.”

“Aye. But think of this: What happens after your duel, and you’re victorious?”

“My father’s estate falls to me. I give it to Ravenshead, as I said I would. Initiate Brandt is dead. Everyone’s happy.”

I tilted my head, my fingers walking up his chest to the base of his neck. When he swallowed, I watched his throat bob and then gently wrapped my hand around the column of his neck.

“Remember when you choked me, Will?”

“Every time,” he said, his voice little more than a groan. “What are you playing at, thorn? Because my cock is harder than a blacksmith’s anvil, when I should be thinking about battle strategy. You’re making this, erm, harder than it needs to be.”

I unleashed my hand from his neck and he inhaled raggedly. A sense of something I wasn’t used to rushed through me—like a mix of headiness and need. Darkness, even, as I imagined tightening my hold on his neck until his veins popped and his brilliant sapphire eyes bulged in fear.

I have never caused that kind of fear in anyone.

Blinking, the gruesome thought faded. I furrowed my brow.

What the hell am I thinking? What was that about?

“You okay, lass?” he asked, concern etched in his voice.

I nodded with a shallow breath. “Aye. Uh. I’m fine. I had a point I was trying to make.”

He smirked that smug little smirk of his, which always got my blood boiling. He knew just how to get to me.

“Which is?” he asked.

I thought through the fog in my brain, then snapped my fingers. “Choking. You think if you kill Initiate Brandt, this will be over? You heard the older one. They have a writ of ownership—whatever the fuck that is. It sounds official. Which means he truly does have the law on his side. There are no good ways this can end, Will, and you know it. The Templar Knights will return. Maybe not tomorrow, or even this month. But they’ll be back . . . and when they do, they’ll choke the life out of this hamlet and everyone in it.”

I took a deep breath, my heart beating faster. It throbbed against my throat, even as I looked at his and just wanted to take a bite out of him.

The invasive thought sent me spinning, and I stepped back.

Will Scarlet said nothing for a long time. He simply watched my face, his concerned expression flattening.

He needs to come to this decision himself. He spoke abruptly, making that challenge in a moment of rage—as he’s keen to do. All I can do is offer a rebuttal, even if I don’t have any great alternatives.

To win in this world, we must make terrible sacrifices, I thought, trying to steel myself for the chiding I expected. Tough decisions that no one wants to make, such as letting his father’s honey farm go. A farm that Will, honestly, didn’t frequent very often, and would likely mean very little to him if it weren’t for the man who’d lived in it.

“You know I’m right, Will,” I said, growing exasperated that he had nothing to say in his defense. “Just like the Merry Men, the Templar Knights won’t forget their own. Especially if you kill the lad. They’ll—”

“The Templars are nothing like the Merry Men, Robin. You may be right—I can’t argue with the logic of your words—but logic has no place here. Not where my family is concerned. You expect me to back down and let these outsiders stomp all over my home?”

I bit my bottom lip, giving Will a pleading look with my eyes. I knew I couldn’t stop him, yet I had to try. “What kind of a leader would I be if I didn’t at least make you think of the consequences, love?” My voice cracked at the end. “I—”

A shadow moved behind Will, startling the life out of me. It was so swift I nearly missed it, and wondered if a squirrel hopped across that branch behind him or—

No. Too big to be a squirrel!

“Will!” I screamed.

His eyes bulged and his hands went up for his swords, just as he prepared to spin around.

He was going to be too late—

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