2. Baron
BARON
Icrashed through the forest, branches reaching out to snag at my arms and the underbrush crunching beneath my boots.
They didn’t understand. They couldn’t understand.
Every single one of the Merry Men stood there nodding along to that reckless, suicidal plan as if they were discussing the weather, not volunteering Laurel for a death sentence.
It wasn’t the danger to me that mattered. It was her.
I snapped off a low-hanging branch viciously as I tramped on, the splintered wood sharp against my palm. Her so-called friends had presented the idea of her working alongside her worst enemy as though it was some ingenious plan. How was she so at ease with it?
None of them had any idea. They didn’t know what Prince John was capable of, but I did.
I had seen the brutal treatment of his servants; I’d even participated in doling out those punishments when called upon.
I’d seen the kinds of men he attracted: mercenaries with dead eyes and bloodstained fingernails.
A wide stream cut across my path. I grabbed the nearest rock and hurled it into the water.
The splash slapped back against me, cold and satisfying.
Anything could happen to her. Anything. How would I be able to keep her safe?
And Robin Hood’s men expected me to pretend like this was some grand adventure?
Laurel would end up dead within a month.
I wasn’t going to stand for it. I kicked at the dirt on the path.
Loose pebbles flew into the air and ricocheted off the trunks of trees.
A twig snapped. I turned and found Laurel standing there, arms folded, watching me with her shrewd, perceptive stare that always made me feel simultaneously seen and flayed alive.
I turned away.
“Quite the temper tantrum you had back there,” she said mildly. “If you’d woken those two Sleeping Beauties before Alan knocked them out again, we’d need a whole new plan.”
I didn’t answer. Any plan—any other plan—would be better than the one they’d concocted. If Prince John learned who she was… the vengeance he’d unleash would make my father’s punishments look merciful. They would torture her until they broke her. The thought alone made my stomach twist.
“Baron, talk to me,” she said. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. “I don’t think this is a good plan. There’s too much at risk. Do you enjoy putting yourself in danger?”
“That isn’t it.”
“Then what is it? What am I missing? Everyone is acting like this is a good idea, but they don’t know what they are getting into.
” My fists clenched. I tried—truly tried—to control my temper, but the thought of Laurel walking unprotected into that nightmare on purpose had scraped me raw.
I remembered, with a jolt how she once told me my rages frightened her.
I inhaled slowly, trying to force air into a chest that had gone painfully tight.
I couldn’t lose control around Laurel. If I did, she might leave me without a second thought.
I would be rejected, cast aside, and cut out of her life.
I looked to the sky as if searching for my answer there.
Was this the life I had signed up for? When I agreed to leave my father’s camp with her, I thought I would be able to protect her.
When she’d been chained to me, I had protected her—even if it meant being the villain who kept her tethered.
Now she was free, and somehow she felt more at risk than ever.
Laurel didn’t fill the silence. She simply watched, those bright eyes steady and unwavering.
I couldn’t watch Laurel risk her neck over and over. Sooner or later, gambling with her own life would end it. It went beyond wanting to keep Laurel safe. I needed to keep her safe. Losing my mother had nearly destroyed me. Losing Laurel? I couldn’t imagine it. My world would go cold and empty.
I went to sit on a decaying log, but it buckled under my weight with a loud crunch, and I ended up falling backward into the newly created pile of crushed wood. I stood, cursing, and brushed off the seat of my trousers.
“Smooth,” she said, one corner of her mouth lifting. “I know you aren’t scared,” she went on, stepping closer to me. “So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t want you to die,” I burst out, the truth ripping free before I could cage it. I pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose, breathing hard.
Her arms slipped around me—small, warm, and grounding.
I froze for a heartbeat, then slowly, helplessly, wrapped my arms around her too.
The anger leeched out of me with every breath I took against her hair.
Being held by Laurel never felt like an intrusion.
It felt like relief. It felt like redemption.
How could one person carry so much fire and still be so soft?
She was everything I wasn’t. She lived for adventure. She was vibrant where I was grim, hopeful where I was hardened. Her heart was gentler than she’d ever admit, hidden as it was behind stubbornness and arrogant bravado.
But me? I'd never looked out for anyone but myself.
I'd become a traitor so well practiced I could switch loyalties like changing coats.
I'd betrayed one person after another, working my way up my father's ranks and backstabbing anyone in my path.
I had always despised myself for living that way, but my whole life had been nothing more than survival.
Until Laurel.
When they chained her to me, I’d expected she’d slit my throat the first chance she got.
Instead, she stunned me with her defiance, her courage, and her stalwart confidence.
I found myself soaking in every moment we spent side by side.
When she escaped, I tracked her with a purpose beyond duty.
She fascinated me, challenged me, and terrified me all at once.
All those months, I had been increasingly disgusted with myself as I selfishly forced Laurel to stay imprisoned because I was too cowardly to do the right thing and let her go free.
I rationalized it, telling myself that I was doing it for her own good.
I told myself that she would’ve died on her own.
But it had been a lie. She was clever and resourceful and would have been fine.
Hadn’t she proved that time and again? It was I who would have been tormented by her absence.
It tore me apart, having the woman of my dreams so close and yet still so far out of reach.
The slow torture hurt worse than anything my father ever inflicted upon me.
I thought I would be driven mad by it. So many times, I nearly reached my breaking point, about to beg her to stay with me, but I always held myself back.
A girl like her had no business being with someone like me.
I was terrified that she would become aware of my feelings and be repulsed by me.
If I had professed my love for her and she rejected me, or worse, laughed at me for even thinking there was a chance with her…
It was a thought too painful to bear, so I always resisted.
I reminded myself continually that it was impossible. We were too different.
I had resigned myself to care for her from a distance and protect her in whatever small, secret ways I could until she escaped for good.
But then the impossible happened. She asked me to run away with her.
She wanted me, or at least the best parts of me that I let show around her.
For the first time, I saw a version of myself that might be worthy of her, complete with a future I never would have been brave enough to choose alone.
Even a small chance with her was better than no chance at all, and I hadn’t hesitated to turn on everyone else I had known. It was what I was best at.
When Laurel finally released me, she smiled.
It wasn’t her usual smirk or the infuriatingly cocky grin she wore most of the time.
She smiled softly in a way that looked like sunlight breaking through storm clouds and it hit me square in the chest. She was so beautiful.
She always had been, but that smile… it made something inside me want to never stop looking at her.
“Baron,” she said quietly, “there will always be risk when we’re doing the right thing.
But I don’t go looking for death. If Prince John is really planning a revolt, we have to strike first, before he can gather momentum.
The only thing worse than dying would be living with the guilt of knowing I could’ve stopped him but didn’t.
” Her eyes shone with conviction. “Sometimes there isn’t anyone else to step in.
Sometimes I have to be that person. If I don’t, who will? ”
A knot twisted in my stomach. The cost of her courage was what I feared. She didn’t see the danger the same way I did. She hadn’t grown up watching men torture servants for amusement, or listening to Prince John laugh at someone’s screams. She didn’t know what awaited her behind those castle walls.
Laurel must’ve noticed my hesitation, because her voice softened but didn’t waver.
“Baron, I’m doing this. With or without you.
” The certainty in her tone was a punch to the gut.
“I can’t sit back and do nothing. I want your help and I trust you.
I feel safer with you beside me. But whether you join us or not… it won’t change what I’m going to do.”
My heart lurched. She had already decided. Just like that. She was going to throw herself into the path of a revolt she had no hope of stopping alone. How could one girl—one impossible, brilliant, maddening girl—stand against the combined power of Prince John and every loyal knight in his command?
I tried to picture myself returning to the Cresswell Crags. I would be the Sheriff of Nottingham and would accept the future my father had always wanted for me. Before Laurel, it had been my dream. But now the thought curdled my stomach. I didn’t want it anymore. I wanted something better.
I wanted her.
Laurel’s fingers brushed my cheek. “Please help us, Baron,” she whispered. “I need you.”
Blast it all.
She always knew exactly what words would undo me.
“I’ll help,” I muttered, defeated by the inevitable.
Her entire face brightened and she grabbed my hand without hesitation. “Come on, then! Let’s figure out a way to stay alive and cause a little chaos for Prince John.”
She tugged me forward, already half pulling me back the way she’d come.
I followed, though reluctance gnawed at me.
I was still convinced that this plan would be doomed to failure.
It was a futile siege. But better to include myself in the plans.
I couldn’t walk away. Even if it meant risking my own life, I needed to figure out how to protect Laurel from Prince John’s army… and from herself.