Alaric's Bow: A Book of the Amari by KateMarie Collins

bargain . It had taken a year to bury the rumor of the lost prince of the Islands. Another for “Islander” to become synonymous with his new name, and skill with a bow. This last year, they’d finally gotten settled in. Trystian had taken up with a young woman in Evenshire, their latest home. Things were encouraging. There were no Amari to be seen. And that meant no slavers waiting to turn Fin into a pet. Or chain Alaric and send him back to face his brother.
                  Outside of Fin and Emile, no one knew his parentage. He had no clue if Trystian and Gwen knew. If they did, nothing was said. He didn’t have the outward signs, did no magic.
                  Unless you counted his aim. He had grown deadly with his bow, using his marksmanship to both keep them fed and earn their keep as they moved around. The beard was gone, his brown hair longer. Six years on the run now, and his body had changed. He was no longer some soft prince, used to feather beds and savory meals. He was leaner now, more muscle than fat. Wary and suspicious of everyone they met. And, as always, watching out for Fin’s safety.
                  He leaned against the window frame now, alert. Wishing the rain would let up enough they could get back on the road. The others slept on cots behind him. They’d left Evenshire a week ago, after Trystian’s lady had begun asking questions. About Fin, Emile. Why he traveled with such companions, took on such danger to protect one person. Emile was fairly certain it was jealousy, but didn’t want to wait to have that confirmed. Trystian could’ve stayed if he wanted to. Instead, he bid his lady good-bye. Told her he’d be back one day, when his task was complete. Alaric knew his companion would keep that vow. He wasn’t so certain about the lady.
                  They got as far as the inn, the last bit of Dunegan hospitality before crossing over to Lorien. The capital was a good month or more west. He prayed Emile would choose to go around the city. Somehow, he doubted it.
                  “Is it dawn yet?” Fin called out softly from behind him.
                  Turning, Alaric glanced at her. Her red hair half unbraided, she lay on her cot. Not ready to get up, really, but done sleeping.
                  “I think so. The clouds are lighter.” He kept his voice low so he didn’t wake the others.
                  She threw aside the blanket and sat up, stretching. Her tunic, wrinkled by sleep, hid her slender form. Alaric quickly looked back outside. Thoughts of what might be under that tunic still in his mind.
                  He heard her moving about, pulling on a pair of trousers. Their life didn’t allow for fancy dresses she once told him. It was far more practical to ride in breeches. There was one night, a year ago. A celebration in a town square. She and Gwen had both agreed to dress in borrowed gowns for the event, as they didn’t want to anger the man who was letting them stay in the barn and work for a few coins. It was the first time, the only time, he’d seen her dressed up.
                  The sight of her in the blue dress burned in his mind. A woman’s body rested under the corseted top, one that took his breath away.
                  She leaned against the wall across from him, her fingers deftly undoing the braid. “It’s been doing this for days. We’re not going to get to Lorien in time if we don’t leave soon.”
                  “In time?” he asked. “I didn’t know we had a deadline.”
                  Fin shrugged, “It’s an anniversary of sorts. Emile and I go back there every ten years. He found me there. I don’t know if he’s hoping he’ll find another to keep free or what, but he’s insisted we go back.” She finished undoing her hair and shook it loose. “Not that it’s a huge thing. This is only