Chapter 17
Rowan, ever quick, had already drawn his sword, his playful smirk replaced by something sharper—excited, but focused. "Well, well," he mused. "You did promise me some excitement."
"Try not to enjoy it too much," I shot back, scanning the shadows. The forest was thick here, the perfect place for an ambush. A rustling in the underbrush gave me only a split second's warning before figures emerged, their faces obscured by hoods.
Three of them. Just as planned.
Barca, Jon, and Gareth played their roles well, weapons drawn and stance aggressive. They didn't call out demands or announce themselves—just moved in swiftly, giving the illusion of a well-coordinated attack.
Rowan wasted no time. He wheeled his horse around to put himself between me and the attackers. His sword gleamed in the moonlight as he blocked an incoming strike from Barca, the clash of steel ringing through the trees.
Jon lunged toward me, and I forced myself to act the part, gasping as I fumbled for the dagger at my waist. He knocked it out of my hand easily—perhaps a little too easily—and grabbed me roughly by the arm.
"Rowan!" I called out, struggling. "There's too many of them—go!"
Rowan glanced over his shoulder, his expression shifting into something I couldn't quite place. "Not a chance," he growled.
Then he moved.
In a flash, he twisted his sword free from Barca's block and struck at Jon, forcing him to release me. I stumbled back just as Gareth lunged at Rowan from the side, who parried expertly.
"Stay close," he muttered. "I'll get us out of this."
He was fighting expertly. Not just defending himself, but actively protecting me. If this were a real ambush, I might've been grateful—but this was a test. Damn it, Rowan! At this rate, he's going to kill them.
I caught Gareth's glance over Rowan's shoulder. A silent question: Should we push him further?
I gave the slightest shake of my head.
Gareth hesitated, then gave a sharp whistle. The agreed-upon signal. The knights broke formation, disappearing into the shadows as if they were retreating.
Rowan kept his sword raised, his breathing heavy as he scanned the trees. "Cowards," he muttered. "If they come back, I'll—" He turned to check on me, his free hand instinctively reaching out. "Are you hurt?"
I blinked up at him, still half-playing my role. "I... I'm fine."
His eyes flickered with something unreadable. His grip on his sword tightened before he let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulders back. His usual smirk returned, but this time it was tempered with something softer.
"Well," he exhaled, "that was fun. A good warmup."
I could only stare at him, my mind racing. He had passed the test, that much was clear. He hadn't run. He hadn't hesitated. If anything, he had thrown himself into the fight without a second thought.
Just as I was about to signal for Gareth and the others to reveal themselves and end the charade, another whistle sliced through the night air—sharper, more urgent.
That wasn't one of ours.
Rowan stiffened beside me, his sword still raised. His gaze darted to the trees, and I saw his expression shift—his usual lighthearted arrogance replaced with something sharper. He felt it too. The air had changed.
A second arrow flew, faster than before, embedding itself into the ground between us. Then came the sound of rustling leaves—too many footsteps for just three knights.
And then, they appeared.
Dark silhouettes, slipping from the shadows like wraiths, their movements smooth and practiced. There were at least six of them, all clad in black cloaks, their faces obscured. And this time, I caught the glint of something unmistakable.
A tattoo. The mark of the Black Dragon. Panic shot through me. This isn't part of the plan.
Rowan cursed under his breath. "I knew something felt off." He shifted, his stance adjusting, and for the first time since I'd met him, he looked genuinely serious.
I forced myself to stay calm, but my mind was already racing. Julian didn't plan for this. We don't know how many there are. We don't even know if Gareth and the others have realized what's happening yet.
"Rowan Blackwood," one of the men said, his voice low and gravelly. "You shouldn't have stuck your nose where it didn't belong. Surrender now, and we'll give you and your little friend here a painless death."
I shot rowan a panicked look. The Black Dragon. I thought he said he was certain they couldn't track him down? Fear gripped me. I'd forgotten who I was dealing with, and now I may just have to pay the ultimate price.
Rowan let out a short laugh, tilting his head. "Oh? You're making demands? See, that's funny. Because I hate ultimatums."
He moved before they could react.
His sword was a blur, slashing toward the nearest attacker. The man barely dodged in time, stumbling back as Rowan pressed forward, his movements fluid, both calculated and reckless. But his range was limited, as he was protecting me.
I barely had time to process before another man lunged for me. I twisted away, my heart hammering, but he was fast—too fast. I tried to grab my dagger, which was pulsing wildly under my cloak as if ready for action. His fingers grazed my arm before a sudden force yanked me backward.
Rowan.
He grabbed my wrist and pulled me behind him, putting himself in between me and the attacker as he took on the brunt of the attack, creating a deep gash in his side.
I stifled a scream as thick red blood spattered on my face.
My eyes were wide, and my heart was pounding in fear. This wasn't just a book, this was real.
With no more than a slight gasp of pain, Rowan pivoted expertly, using the close proximity to the attacker to stab his blade through and push him back. Then as more approached he pivoted expertly,, deflecting another attack "Alright, princess, change of plans," he said between blows. "You run."
"I—"
"Run!" he barked, shoving me toward the trees.
I hesitated for only a second before turning and bolting into the forest. Not because he told me to. Because I needed to find Gareth and the others.
Behind me, I heard the clash of steel, Rowan's quick footwork remained steady as he deflected blow after blow. He was good—better than I had expected. The wound seemed to hardly phase him. It's like he's not even human. But there were too many of them.
Just hold on, Rowan.
I ran blindly through the trees, my breath coming fast. Then, just as I broke into a small clearing, a dark figure stepped in front of me.
Another one?!
I barely had time to react before the man reached for me. I went for my dagger, but he was faster, grabbing my wrist and twisting it sharply. Pain shot up my arm, and I bit back a cry.
"You're not going anywhere, little lady," he sneered.
Then, out of nowhere—A flash of silver. A blur of movement. And suddenly, the man wasn't holding me anymore.
I stumbled back, my head whipping around just in time to see Gareth wrench his sword free from the attacker's side.
"Lady Rosaria!" Gareth's voice was sharp with alarm. "Are you hurt?"
"No," I gasped. "But Rowan—he's fighting alone—"
"He can hold his ground. My lady, we must get you to safety." Gareth helped me to my feet as the other knights joined in.
"No," I gasped, thinking of the wound Rowan had endured, because of me. He was strong, almost inhumanly so, but who knows how long he could hold out against that many enemies? "You have to go back," I was breathless, not only because of my run but because of fear.
"My lady—" Gareth began.
I locked his gaze. "I order you to fight," I said, setting my mouth in a hard line.
Gareth didn't need to hear more. He backed away grimly, nodding at Barca and Jon who turned on their heels toward the fight, weapons drawn. "My lady, you must stay hidden here."
I nodded, and he turned around quickly to join the fray. I clutched the pulsing dagger under my coat, which seemed to mimic my beating heart. I'm useless, I sighed. I listened to the clanking of metal on metal as swords clashed, which intensified more as my knights joined the fray.
Please be alright, I prayed grimly as my breath began to settle.
I didn't know how many Black Dragons had attacked, or how strong they were.
I had rashly sent those knights in there, possibly to their deaths.
I was a failure tonight, in more ways than one.
No one will follow me if I can't make good decisions in times like these.
After what seemed like an eternity, the clash of metal slowed down. My heart stopped, and I rose from my hiding place. Please... I gripped the dagger as if it would provide me some sort of protection, and made my way carefully toward the clearing