Like I did every night.
She finished brushing Rosie with quick, expert flicks of the soft brush and then slung the saddle over her back on its pad, tightening the girth and checking the bit and bridle. Her competence and her independence were wildly sexy to me—so many fucking women made a habit of helplessness. But not Anika. And I fucking loved that about her.
With an expert use of her shoulder against Rosie’s flank, she checked her hooves for debris and then patted her backside with a firm spank. Placing her foot in the stirrup, she easily mounted all by herself, graceful and strong.
Anika click-clicked to tell Rosie to walk on, nudging her with her heels. Rosie responded with a snort and did as she was told. On Anika’s face was the purest, most uncomplicated joy. This is when she was freest, happiest, and even more exquisitely beautiful.
This was her release from the often stifling demands of court, and despite my fears for her safety I admired the hell out of her for taking it. And I found myself smiling too, because now it was time for one of my favorite parts of all.
The chase.
I slipped out of the gap at the back of the stable, and made a running mount of my horse. I took off after her, riding hard, but she had the jump on me. She’d given Rosie her head to run, and I had to use all my senses to track her, listening between my own horse’s hoof beats for the crack of twigs and hush of rustling leaves up ahead while trying to stay just far enough behind to keep my own cover.
For a minute, I was certain I was right behind her, and slowed my pace. But then I knew, instinctively, that she was further away from me than I’d wanted. I’d noticed that happening with her more often now than ever before—I just knew, fucking knew, when she was close. And felt it in my bones when she was far away. Like an ache.
The dense leaf cover swallowed her up, hoof beats and all.
Damn it.
I scanned the forest for any sign of her. Up ahead, near ground level, I spotted a clump of ferns swaying, and not with the breeze.
Gotcha. I drove my heels in hard, and my horse shot forward into a full gallop.
But no sooner had he taken off running than he skidded to a halt and reared, nearly throwing me off. Like the ground had dropped out from under me, I found myself half-way airborne. He landed hard and wheeled around in a panicked circle. I tried to get control of him.
“What the fuck,” I muttered, trying to calm him down.
But then I saw it, too.
It was Rosie, running back toward us, wild-eyed and terrified…with an empty saddle on her back.
She’d been ambushed by highwaymen. My rage at seeing her in danger was so overpowering that it damn near fucking blinded me completely. Staying low, I looped the horses reins over a brand keeping them hidden. I assessed what we were up against. Fucking highwaymen. Parasites of the forest. My first act as king would be to string every single one of them up by their balls.
Four of them had ambushed her. One of them she’d killed herself already, with a kill-shot to the heart. The second lay moaning, clutching his belly, trying to stifle the blood seeping from a wide gash. The knife wound was plenty bad enough to keep him off his feet, and it would kill him, but it wasn’t deep and it would be a slow death. It would take days of shit and a puss and agony and fear out here in the forest for him to find the grave, most likely finished off by wolves or a bear.
Not fucking slow enough, I thought, as I cracked my knuckles, and sized up the other two, grudgingly impressed by the fact they hadn’t fled at the first sign their chosen quarry might fight back.
They were both armed, one with a dagger and the other with an ax. Anika’s fox was nipping at their ankles, chattering and squealing, trying to get them away from Anika. The ax wielder had her from behind, either with her hands bound or her thin wrists clasped in one of his huge hands, I couldn’t tell. The one with the knife searched her pockets, feeling her up, looking for coin or valuables.
As he slid his hand between her legs, he froze. “Now what do we have here?”
Fucking fuck.
“You’re no lad, now are you?” He ripped off her hat and her long, beautiful hair spilled down her shoulders like a copper waterfall.
Now that she was revealed, she let loose a primal, ear-splitting scream, and kicked wildly at both of them, even sinking her teeth into the big one’s arm pulling her hands free and swinging at the air.