Page 17 of Blood & Roses

“They must have followed us yesterday,” Rowan shouted.

“Gods,” I said, anger whipping through me as I ducked back into the kitchen and pulled several sharp knives from the block. “No one shoots arrows at my house.”

“Izzy!” came panicked shouting from upstairs. Calli and Mora appeared first, both still disheveled from sleep and dressed in nightgowns, followed closely by Lena and Sera. “What's going on?”

“They’re here for the prince,” I replied, sheathing three knives in the waistband of my dressing gown and grabbing two more. “Mora and Lena, get Tristan to safety. Sera, Calli, you know what to do.”

They nodded, already pulling on their magic as they ran to the attic to defend the cottage. Sera’s illusions and Calli’s weatherweaving were the most likely to do damage against armed hunters, and the best vantage would be the highest window in the house.

As for me, I had my knives.

Father had trained me in dagger throwing himself, and I had insisted my sisters learn. My daggers were upstairs and too far to reach quickly, but kitchen knives were basically the same, right?

I heard muffled grunting and soothing voices as Lena and Mora pulled Tristan to safety, Rowan meeting me at the door to the kitchen.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled as I looked out the peephole of the door. He had grabbed his bow and knocked an arrow, pointing it toward the floor at my feet. “Get down!”

“Two at eleven o’clock,” I murmured, sweeping my eye over the garden as another arrow thunked into the door. “And I think there must be another at three.” A flurry of snow blew from the direction of the cottage, and I heard the males outside shout in surprise. That was my cue. “Cover me.”

“What are you—”

I pushed Rowan back as I flung the door open, taking only a second to aim and throw my first knife. The second knife followed, and the screams told me I had hit my mark as I ran for the nearest tree. My feet froze in the stupid flimsy slippers as I scrambled through the snow.

A screech next to me was my only warning that Rowan was joining me, his form shifting from that of a crow so quickly I startled and nearly fell backward.

He caught me, pushing me against the tree, his hand firm on my waist.

“Don’t do that!” I snapped, catching my footing and righting myself behind the tree. “A little warning when you shapeshift, if you please.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” he roared as arrows whizzed past us from the hunters at our three o’clock, our bodies blocked by the tree. “You can’t run out into a barrage, Isolde!”

The storm created by Calli raged behind us, a distraction more than an effective offense, and the screaming told me that Sera had begun weaving illusions to assist.

“I knew you had me covered,” I panted, looking up into his angry face, his eyes blazing with fury. “Don’t you use any other forms?”

I’d only see him use the shape of a crow and a stag, and I was curious what other forms he liked to shift into.

“Now isn’t really the time,” Rowan reminded me, the words coming from between clenched teeth. “How many more?”

“Five more directly at our twelve o’clock,” I replied as another volley of arrows thunked into the bark behind us. “You go high, I’ll go low?”

“You maddening creature,” Rowan growled, as I pulled two more knives from my belt and prepared to attack. “I’m almost certain I’m going to regret this.”

Before I could leap from our hiding spot, Rowan caught my jaw and pressed his mouth hard against mine in a bruising kiss.

This was not my first kiss. I’d been kissed before multiple times, sometimes for pleasure and sometimes for a job. In my experience, kisses tended to be wet. Maybe a little nice, but mostly sloppy and rushed as a prelude to the main event.

But this kiss. This kiss was different. It was everywhere and everything, and Rowan’s mouth fit against mine so perfectly it was like he had been made to kiss only me. I was so startled that I didn’t respond until I felt his tongue sweep over mine, a request and a promise for something more.

It was over too soon, and he pulled away, looking as stunned as I felt. My hands still gripped my knives tightly, ready for death, and all I could do was look at the blasted hunter and catch my breath.

He recovered quickly, grinning as he said, “For luck,” then moved, shooting arrows in quick succession at our assailants. He grunted as an arrow hit him in the shoulder, which startled me out of my stupor enough to move myself.

Rowan shot with deadly accuracy, hunter after hunter going down despite the injury to his shoulder. I took only a second to sight and aim before throwing my knives hard and fast. One embedded itself in the neck of a huntsman, who fell back with a gurgling scream. The other hit the final hunter between the eyes with a sickening thwack.

His body fell to the snow, stained crimson with the blood from our assailants.

“I take it back,” Rowan said, panting slightly as he looked down at me and yanked the arrow from his shoulder. Blood spurted, and I lunged to put my hand over the wound, willing his blood to slow as I steadied him. My eyes met his as he winced, bringing his good arm up to cup my cold face in his palm. “You’re plenty fearsome.”