Chapter Nine
They had been so close. Christian could have had the book if he had searched in the rain. It annoyed and angered him.
Willow was before him on the horse as they rode. She had settled back, resting her head on his shoulder. She fit comfortably against him, and for a while, he thought she was asleep. The aroma of roses wafted to him, and he remembered she used some liquid when she cleaned her hair to make her locks smell like flowers. Every time the scent came to him, he thought of her.
His arms were around her, and he secretly enjoyed holding her. She was incredibly beautiful and smelled so good.
They had always been comfortable together. When he lived with the Hawkes, she used to sit so close to him their shoulders touched. When John wasn’t around, she would snuggle into his lap and cuddle against him. Sage would roll her eyes, and Raven would glare at her. Christian grinned at the memory. That had been a long time ago. Until Christian had kissed Willow. And John had discovered them.
The memory faded. His home had been with the Hawkes. It had been the closest thing he had to belonging somewhere since his mother died. He had believed he was part of their family.
But he had been wrong.
He had been young and naïve. He hadn’t known where to go or what to do after leaving. He had been lost. He’d roamed, taking odd jobs to survive. He had considered going to the Templar Knights, but they were John’s friends.
He had no choice. He’d returned home like a lost puppy with his tail tucked between his legs. He ground his teeth at the memory. It had been a mistake. He had wanted them to be like the Hawkes, caring for each other, willing to do anything for family. He scoffed. How wrong he had been.
His father was still cold and hateful. He had not changed. Neither had his older brother, Simon. They were both hungry for the king’s favor. Hungry for power. Hungry for more.
Not like Willow.
His hand hooked around her waist for comfort. He instantly felt the square shape of a book beneath her armor. Was it his book? Was she keeping it from him, so he helped her find Sage? Or was it the book she said Brother Nicolas gave her? Had Brother Nicolas given her a book? Was she lying?
“There,” Willow said and straightened away from him.
Startled, Christian reined the horse to a stop. “What?”
“There,” she repeated, pointing toward a patch of grass.
The area she indicated was flattened as if a horse had left the road and moved into the brush. He heard the gurgle of a stream in the distance. While it could have been anyone’s trail, giving the horse a rest and a needed drink wouldn’t hurt. Christian guided the steed off the road, following the bent stalks.
When he stopped the horse, Willow swung her leg over the neck of the horse and slid to the ground.
“Careful,” Christian advised, scanning the area. They didn’t know who had stopped or if they had left. The location was quiet and vacant. Birds sang in the distance.
He dismounted and led the palfrey to a stream, tying the reins to a tree branch. When he looked back at Willow, she stood in the middle of a clearing, trees surrounding it. She turned slowly, staring at the ground. “There was a fight here.”
Christian approached her. The ground was trampled and crushed. Farther from them, footprints covered the ground, and the leaves were flattened. It looked as if there had indeed been a fight. In one of the trees, he spied a gash in the trunk. He stepped closer to inspect it, running his finger along the gauge. “A sword fight.”
Willow gazed over his shoulder. “And not long ago.”
Christian nodded. He glanced at her and caught the concerned furrow of her brow. “It might not have been Sage.”
“No,” she agreed.
He knew by the look of trepidation in her eyes that she thought it was her sister. She scanned the area and stepped away from him, exploring the ground.
Christian watched her for a long moment. Her worry touched him. He was sure she was searching for a body. He wanted to protect her by calling her away and shielding her from anything she might find. But he knew he couldn’t do that. She wasn’t his to protect.
He inspected the cut in the tree bark, straight and deep. A sword had definitely inflicted it. But what were the odds it was Sage?
“Christian,” Willow called.
He glanced at her. She stood in the center of the wooded area, inspecting the ground. He approached her, dread bubbling in his gut.
“It was Sage,” she said with a strange hitch to her voice.
He quickened his pace. Had she found her sister’s body? What was she looking at?
