Page 68 of Heart of the Hunter (Band of Bastards #3)

H unter’s leg burned like it was on fire where Payne had stabbed him. His shoulders throbbed from being tied behind him for hours, and he couldn’t feel the tips of his fingers.

“Keep working, Tommy,” he said through gritted teeth as he tried to look over his shoulder at him. The resourceful lad had gotten his hands on a dagger somewhere and sawed with determination at the ropes around Hunter’s wrists.

“Almost there,” Tommy said as he grunted and worked the dagger back and forth over the ropes.

“Good work, mate,” Hunter said in encouragement as the intensity of the commotion grew around them. “When you’re done, put the dagger in my hand, then hide until this is over.”

He’d seen some of Hawk’s soldiers open the door from the chapel where they had gained access through the tunnel, but they’d retreated when archers spotted them and shot a volley of arrows down.

As he surveyed the action, he caught glimpses of Red’s fiery hair and Bard’s chiseled face as they slashed their way along the castle wall with a small army of Hawk’s men behind them.

As long as Payne’s soldiers were distracted with the fight and kept their attention away from him, Hunter would be safe.

Another couple moments, and he’d be free and then he’d find Anora and get her the hell out of here.

Just then her voice rent the air as clear as a bell above the rain, shouts, and clanging metal. He turned to see her pinned beneath a man, her face full of fear as she screamed at him.

“Hurry, Tommy,” he ordered in an anguished voice.

“Anora!”

“No!” Hunter roared as he watched Payne run in the direction of Anora. When the baron had yelled her name, it was full of venom. He wasn’t concerned for Anora; he wanted to hurt her.

Payne stopped then and turned his attention to Hunter.

Good! “Come get me you, fucking prick.” He could feel that his wrists were nearly free, and he was certain if he jerked hard enough, he’d break the remaining strands of the rope.

Payne was only a few strides away from him, his blade poised to strike as soon as he reached Hunter.

“Dagger, Tommy,” Hunter ordered, and felt the blade slap into his palm just as the ropes fell away from his wrists.

His limbs felt like they were held down with lead weights, and he moved with the pace and dexterity of a snail.

His mind and body would not work in harmony, and he felt like he was caught in a dream, a nightmare from which he could not awaken.

He saw Anora rise up from the ground like an angel ascending to the heavens.

She held something in her hand and her mouth was open as she yelled, but he could not hear her.

Her arms swung forward like wings as she came to her full height, and he realized she had a bow in her hand as she nocked an arrow.

He was mesmerized by her. Then a surge of warmth spread through his body, and it caught up to the rush of commands in his brain.

He leaned to the side and swung his arm forward as Payne brought his knife down toward Hunter’s neck.

The blade scraped over his shoulder, and it felt like molten fire had been poured over his ice-cold skin.

He felt his own blade lodge in Payne’s body, then felt the weight of him slump forward.

He tried to pull his knife free to strike again, determined to end the baron once and for all, but Hunter stumbled under the weight of him as he lurched forward.

It was then that Hunter saw the arrow protruding from the man’s back.

He lifted his gaze and saw Anora looking back at him.

He’d never seen anything so beautiful. Her hair, still silvery white when wet, was wrapped around her face and neck as she stood tall, like the most majestic and ethereal archer he’d ever witnessed. Her back was straight, and her head held high like the women warriors of lore.

She was a goddess.

A fucking goddess.

And she was his if he were brave enough to be the man she deserved.