Page 3 of The Wicked Prince

Robin’s nostrils were flaring and her breath was huffy as he held up a wanted poster. They’d had wanted posters for Robin ever since her first appearance, but those had been different. Vague descriptions and a drawing of a hooded figure. This was the first one that identified her as a woman and had her face. John held the wanted poster up to her face to compare them side by side.

“Let’s see how close I was,” John said. “I only got a glimpse of you, and the light was fading, so small inaccuracies can be forgiven.”

But there were none. John was excellent with details. The face on the wanted poster was a perfect recreation of Robin’s, down to the intensity of her eyes and the freckle on her right cheekbone.

Stunning. Breathtaking.

His handiwork, he meant.

He asked, “What do you think? It’s your face after all.”

“Unlike you, I don’t spend all day staring at my own reflection.” She tried to kick at him, but the guard jerked her back. “Some of us have more important things to do, like taking care of the people you rob blind.”

“Everyone has to have hobbies, even regents. Don’t you have any?” John lowered the wanted poster, starting to carefully fold it up again. “And no, crime doesn’t count.”

Robin went silent, still visibly fuming at him.

“Nothing else you want to get out? You were quite vocal on your way in.” No response. John leaned in a little, unable and uninterested in keeping his glee from seeping into his voice as he cooed at her. “Come on, all birds sing, don’t they? While our first night together was one I won’t forget, you weren’t very vocal. I like you much better when you speak. Or you can scream if you like.”

John narrowly ducked back in time to avoid Robin’s forehead slamming into his nose.

“You disgusting,vile—”

He caught her chin in his hand, tilting it up to look at him. His voice darkened. “You should be a little nicer to the man who has all your Merry Men’s lives in his hands. I imagine you’re quite attached to them.”

Now that had her attention.

Robin’s nostrils flared again, and she ground out, “Stop playing games and get to the point.”

“The point is I don’t want toexecuteyou.”

Robin still eyed him warily. He adjusted his grip, softening it and cradling her face rather than gripping it. When had his heart started pounding?

This was it. The moment for the history books. His eyes darted down briefly before returning to hers. He had the outlaw. Now…

“I want to marry you.”

She started to jerk her head back, but he resecured his grip, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes were so wide they might as well have popped right out of their sockets. “Are you mad?”

Not the worst reaction he had anticipated.

“Not even a little.” John reached forward with his other hand and brushed her wild, tangled hair out of her face, smoothing it down. His voice was soft, barely a whisper as he moved to paint his best work yet with it. “Doesn’t that sound nice? Being a princess? No more running around the woods and sleeping on the cold dirt? Dodging arrows every day? Always looking over your shoulder?”

He was pleased to feel Robin lean into his palm and see her eyes flutter shut as he spoke, envisioning the possibilities. The tension she had been wearing as her armor started to melt away and why wouldn’t it? That was the real secret to his plan, giving her the thing she could never admit to herself that she wanted. Even the legendary Robin Hood could be tempted if someone only knew what weakness to press on.

He’d seen it in her eyes beneath the hood. She was tired. That kind of life would wear anyone down over the years, especially someone like her. She wasn’t just tired; she was absolutely exhausted. He knew it well. She was ready to give in. He had her exactly where he wanted her.

He’d won.

His smirk grew when she let out a soft sigh. He brushed his thumb over her lip, and Robin’s eyes flew open, burning brighter than the sun. And then she bit him.

Shebithim.

John jumped back with a high-pitched, undignified yelp as searing pain ripped through his now bleeding hand. Did she have blades for teeth? What kind of savagebitessomeone?

Her mouth was coated red as the Sheriff’s men grabbed her and started to haul her back. She spat John’s blood onto the floor and screamed, “I’d rather shove a hot poker through my own chest than marry you!”

Fine. Maybe she wasn’t quite ready to give in. She still had some fight left in her yet.

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