Page 37 of Far From Sherwood Forest (Far From #3)

It happens the same way it did before. Reality shifts around us as the trees appear to shimmer in the muted daylight.

Where everything was still moments ago, a gust now blows through with the force of a gale, whistling its way through the trees and rustling our clothes and hair.

Something tingles through me as though I can literally feel the magic.

The sun vanishes. The trees change.

Then the wind dies.

It’s over just as quickly as it began.

We’re back in Sherwood Forest.

My gaze locks with Robin’s, and he gives me a little grin and arches a brow, like maybe he’s waiting for me to suddenly turn back into the Sheriff . Even if he’s Robin Hood again, that’ll never happen. That man is dead and buried. I prefer it that way.

“So what do we do now?” John asks.

Everyone looks at Ivy, but I already know what to expect.

“Don’t look at me.” She holds her hand out in front of her like she’s casually checking her nails. “I’m not allowed to directly interfere.”

“How is none of this directly interfering?” Robin asks skeptically.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I just took you guys on a much needed vacation. I only brought you back in time for the celebration of King Richard’s return tomorrow.” She looks at me and winks. “Good luck.”

Then she’s gone, vanished into thin air.

“Fucking witch,” I grumble with a shake of my head.

“ Spirit. ”

It’s a disembodied whisper in my ear, and I shoo it away like it’s a pesky fly.

“Okay, seriously,” John says, looking between all of us. “What’s the plan here?”

No one answers because we don’t have answers. Ivy just dropped us back in this world, pushed us out of the nest and expected us to fly. She’s lucky I actually like her or I’d be planning on strangling her the next time I saw her.

The night starts to press in on us, dark and quiet, as we all try to come up with an answer to John’s question.

The clearing we arrived in is similar to the one we left behind.

Moonlight shines through the breaks in the trees, bathing the faces of Robin and his Merry Men in silver.

A white halo glows around Robin’s hooded head.

If I still believed in angels, I’d swear he was one.

Maybe he is. The angel come to save the people of this world.

He turns to Will, completely oblivious of the thoughts in my head. “How did you know the prince is planning an ambush for the king if the Spirit isn’t the one giving us any information?”

“We captured one of his guards,” Will answers.

Alan takes over, adding, “We thought maybe the prince had something to do with your disappearance. Of course, that’s before we knew what Will knew.

” He cuts his eyes at Robin’s cousin who ducks his head in shame.

“We know where the ambush is supposed to take place, and the Spirit just said the king’s returning tomorrow. ”

“So we know the when and where,” Tuck says. “Now we just have to stop it.”

Robin nods. “And convince King Richard that the prince was behind it.”

I grunt and cross my arms over my chest. “That’s not going to be easy. John is Richard’s younger brother. If he trusted him enough to leave the throne in his hands while he went off on his Crusade, then he’s not just simply going to take our word for it.”

Robin’s face falls, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

As I stare at him, I compare him with the Robin I knew the last time we were here. He’s different, just like I am. He might be Robin Locksley now, but maybe here he can be Robin Hood again.

I know I can’t think like the Sheriff anymore, but…

I could use him to my advantage.

“Unless,” I say with a slow grin, “it comes from Prince John’s own mouth.”

Robin narrows his eyes at me shrewdly. “You have an idea?”

“I have an idea.”

It’s time to bring the Sheriff back from the dead for one last chase.

I couldn’t go into Robin’s camp with him and the others.

Instead, I’ve settled in on higher ground with a slightly obscured view of the celebrations going on for Robin’s return.

The raucous noise of cheering and laughter reach me all the way up here where I’m resting on the ground with my back against a tree.

There are more than just his Merry Men who make up his camp. Women, children, and entire families are down there, ones who once decided to follow Robin into the forest instead of living under Prince John’s rule.

Once again, I feel that familiar fear that Robin might not choose to return with me after all.

Why would he when he has all these people here who love him?

Robin didn’t want to split up tonight, but my plan wouldn’t work if we hadn’t. Still, I don’t exactly like where my mind goes when I’m alone.

I’ll be glad when all of this is fucking over.

The fires down in the camp continue to burn for a couple of hours, and music that I assume comes from Alan drifts through the night.

I lean my head back against the rough bark of the tree and close my eyes, but I can’t sleep while it’s all going on.

It doesn’t help that I haven’t been awake that long.

It might be night here, but it was morning only a few hours ago.

Eventually, the fires start to die down, and the music stops. Voices and laughter last a bit longer, but as soon as those fade with people heading off to sleep, I try to get some too.

Of course, it doesn’t come. I’m too anxious and lonely and restless.

I think I might be just starting to doze off when the crunching of leaves and the snap of a twig has me jolting upright and drawing my sword from its scabbard where it rests on my lap. I get it halfway out before someone speaks.

“It’s just me.”

I recognize Robin’s quiet voice before I make out the shape of his silhouette standing a few feet away.

“What are you doing here?” I ask as I set my sword on the ground beside me.

He takes a few steps forward and shrugs. “I can’t sleep. Just nervous about tomorrow, I guess.”

“Me too,” I tell him honestly. “Come here.”

I open my legs and motion for him to settle between them.

He lets his bow and quiver fall to the ground before dropping to his knees and sitting back on his heels in front of me.

We stare at each other in silence, the dim glow of the moon on his face.

My eyes dip down to his full lips, highlighted by the silver light.

“I have an idea of something that might help us both,” I tell him, trying to keep my tone neutral, though it still comes out a bit husky. “If you’re interested?”

He licks those pretty lips and nods.

“Take my cock out.”

His breath hitches, and he leans forward to undo my belt. My dick started to thicken the moment this thought entered my head, but I’m not quite fully hard when he takes me out of my trousers. Though, I doubt it would take much to get me there.

“Put it in your mouth.”

Swallowing hard, he shifts his body and lowers himself until he’s partly lying on the ground between my legs. Before he can wrap his lips around me, I grip him by the chin and lift his face to mine. He peers up at me through hooded eyes.

“Don’t suck. Just keep me warm.”

Again, he nods, already breathing a little heavily. I let go of him, and he lowers his mouth onto my cock, letting it rest on his tongue as he seals his lips around me.

I groan and lean my head back against the tree as my dick swells. “That’s it. That’s perfect. Fuck, you really are a good boy now, aren’t you?”

He lets out a little moan that rumbles through my balls. I bring my hand to the back of his neck and rake my fingers gently through the ends of his hair. He doesn’t suck, just like I told him, simply holding me in his mouth and keeping my cock warm.

“I hope you’re ready to go back to being a bad boy again tomorrow though,” I tell him. “We’re going to have to put on quite the show.”

As though to prove he can do just that, he sucks me a little further into his mouth, pressing his tongue against the sensitive underside of my crown.

“Fuck,” I grunt, gripping his hair and pulling him off me.

He smirks up at me, his lids still heavy.

“I said no sucking. Are you going to be a good boy for me tonight?”

“Yes,” he whispers.

When I release him again, he goes back to warming my cock, laying his head on my thigh and getting more comfortable between my legs. His eyes close, and his body begins to relax. After a few minutes, his breathing grows slow and steady.

“You can stop whenever you want, alright? But if you’re able to sleep like this, then don’t let go.”

I sure as hell don’t plan on letting him go.

Ever.