Isolde's Wish Read Free

cold by my absence.” With that, he scooped his ax from the sandy earth and disappeared into the trees at a dead run.

Chapter Two
     
    Sadler balanced on one foot and slipped his legs into his loose breeches, his mind spinning from the encounter with the maid on shore. Or princess, rather. Whatever name he chose to use, it spelled trouble.
    When he had come across the loch at dawn, filthy and exhausted, he had dived straight in, clothes and all. After a cursory wash and a quick swim, he had stripped off his clothing and draped them across a low-hanging branch to dry. They fluttered in the faint breeze, and he bundled them into his arms.
    He knotted the drawstring over his stiff cock and pulled the rough tunic over his head. It tugged against the bars piercing his nipples, reminding him of the princess’s ticklish touch.
    “Ye’ve gone soft in the head, Sadler,” he said under his breath. Gripping his bow and shouldering his quiver, he stepped over the enormous, fifteen-feet-long body of a zeppelgonger , a robotic creature he had managed to bring down that morning after crawling out of the loch. Its bronze metallic shell lay unmoving, massive legs splayed, arms sticking out from its rectangular chest cavity like two tree trunks. Sadler glanced at its head, blocky and miniature in comparison to the body, and saw the usually shifting eyes were still.
    The zeppelgonger army had been created expressly to hunt Sadler after the attempted murder of the king. The Earl of Millvale, the man responsible for inventing the army, had taken personal offense to Sadler and his obtrusive ways. It roamed the hills of the kingdom alone with a whole host of gadgets created to track him.
    Sadler broke from the tree line, hoping she’d fled without him, yet dreading her absence.
    His ill-fitting leather boots sank deep into the mud. He’d happened across a body swinging from the high branches of a tree near the edge of the wood. The noose had nearly severed the wrongdoer’s head from his body, but his boots were still good. Too bad the leather mashed Sadler’s toes.
    Princess Isolde faced away from him, her arms crossed about her waist and her long blonde hair falling heavily down her spine. Sadler’s fingers twitched with the urge to twist the mass about one fist and force her head to his mouth. Except she didn’t need much coercion. A simple “kiss me, Princess” would do, if he were so inclined to say it.
    “Ready?” he asked roughly, stepping up to her side.
    She looked at her feet, rocking a bit on her heels. Her mouth was a fine pink seam, and she refused to look at him.
    “Out with it, woman.” He planted his boots inches from her filthy slippers.
    “I have no wish to inconvenience ye, sir. If ye’ll point the direction, I’ll find my own way back to the castle.”
    Sadler nudged her chin up and stared hard into her eyes, allowing her to see his disdain for her suggestion. “Like hell ye will, Princess. This way.” He took off into the brush.
    His strides were long, and he didn’t bother to hold aside the branches for her to comfortably pass beneath. Behind him, she picked her way through the tangle of trees in silence. A backward glance showed her face, solemn with determination, her ripe lower lip caught in her white teeth.
    Sadler came to a stop. “Did ye really think ye could make it to the castle on yer own, Princess?”
    “Stop calling me that.” She flicked her eyes to his, spitting blue-green fire. Only in a fairy realm would fire that color exist.
    A laugh broke from his chest. He bent at the waist and swept his arm in a mock bow. “What shall I call ye?”
    “I don’t like the way ye say ‘Princess.’” She twisted away from him and headed off, deeper into the woods.
    He trailed behind her, tormented by the sway of her round little hips beneath the golden skirt. Above that, her waist looked impossibly slender, though he knew she wore nothing to cinch it. When he’d reached into the bodice of her