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CHAPTER NINETY-EIGHT

Ryker

The stench of death mingled with the tang of blood as screams, crashes, and clangs echoed throughout the night. The whistle and thud of arrows bombarded us as the ground grew slippery with blood.

There’s too many of them. They’re overrunning us.

When two guards went at a black-clad figure who I was fairly certain was Callan, I lowered my shoulder and charged them. I knocked one aside as the minstrel plunged his sword into the heart of another.

The guard shrieked and fell away while more rose to replace him. When a fist smashed into my cheekbone, the impact rattled my teeth, and lightning flickered across my fingers before I repressed it.

I couldn’t unleash my lightning here. If I did, they would know exactly who I was and even if I could kill them all, I couldn’t be certain that someone from the town wouldn’t see me.

However, I may not have a choice, because if they took me, they’d also find out who I was. I had to fight my way out of this to survive… hopefully with my secrets intact.

Fingers tore at my hood, and I grasped the wrist to halt it as I jerked my head away in time to keep from being exposed. I seized the guard by the throat, lifted him, and crushed his windpipe before tossing him away. I didn’t have time to kill him.

The man clutched his throat as he rolled across the ground, but his cohorts didn’t stop to check on him before falling in to replace him. Nearly two hundred guards were stationed in Nottingshire, and I was fairly certain all of them had descended on us.

Hands clawed at me, tearing at my clothes and threatening to reveal the layers I wore as I battled back two guards who swung their swords with ruthless intent but little expertise. They sought to carve me into pieces while also trying to expose me.

When a hand clawed at my shirt, I grasped the fingers and yanked them back. I tore them away as bones broke beneath my hand.

Tucker’s men were well-trained but greatly outnumbered. The off-duty guards had arrived far faster than we’d anticipated.

A blade sliced through the crowd. I jumped back in time to avoid it cutting me in two, but it still cleaved the side of my neck. The blood spilling from the wound soaked my clothes.

The prisoners huddling by my side whimpered as they tried to avoid being stampeded by the guards. There was nowhere for them to hide, and one of the women nearly lost an eye when an arrow skimmed her temple.

I plunged my sword into the belly of the guard who had cut me and twisted it. As I did so, another grabbed me from behind.

Planting my feet apart, I fought to keep from being dragged down, but when another and then another crashed into my sides, I knew it was only a matter of time before they took me down.

If I didn’t expose myself, they would destroy me.