Page 93 of Princess of Death

Screams erupted from the battle, not those of the dying, but those who feared the dead who rose up once again. It changed the tone of the war, the tide quickly shifting back toward the Southern Isles and the elves of Riviana Star.

I grabbed the dagger from my side and threw it across the clearing, hitting the Barbarian in the neck who had Queen Eldinar captive.

He toppled over, and she was free.

She quickly got to her feet and found my eyes with the same look of fear my father wore.

“Help my father,” I ordered. “These assholes are mine.”

There was a moment of hesitation, like she wanted to disagree, but her eyes flicked away, and she did what I asked and rushed to my father, moving through the dead to reach him in the center.

I spun my sword around my wrist and approached the three Barbarians who had set this forest ablaze, who had tried to take the tree that led to the innocent souls on the other side. I’d been exhausted just moments ago, but now I felt more alive than I ever had.

“Lily!” My father’s frantic voice came from behind me, probably restrained by Queen Eldinar as she tried to help him. “No!”

I ignored him and faced my opponents.

He continued to scream. “Lily, run!”

The Barbarians seemed to ignore him too, because they all stared at me from their golden masks. The one on the left tilted his head slightly as he sized me up. The one on the right changed his grip on his sword. It was the one in the center who spoke. “If the little girl wants to play, let her.”

“Lily, please!” Tears were heavy in my father’s voice.

Wrath appeared at my side and stepped forward, his cape billowing in the nonexistent breeze. “These are no ordinary men. They’re swift and cunning. They have no honor in battle, and they’ll cut your eyes from your face just for sport.”

My eyes followed him as he circled the Barbarians.

“This one has an old stab wound on his left thigh.” He stopped behind the one on the right. “Just enough pressure will make him lose his balance.” He moved past the one in the center. “He’ll try to distract you with his words. Don’t let him.” He rounded the one on the left and began his walk back to me.

My father continued to scream in the background. My focus was so sharp I could block it out.

Wrath returned to my side. “This one is missing a toe on his left foot. A good stomp should piss him off.” He stared at the side of my face.

I couldn’t look directly at him, not without appearing distracted or weak. “Defeat them, Lily Rothschild.”

My father still lived, but in his incapacitated state, it was up to me to lead. With the command of the dead and the strength of a god in my veins, I would defeat these vermin and save everything I held dear.

A fire of blood lust burned white-hot inside me. I’d watched my father take back his kingdom with a rage that could burn the world—and now I felt it too. These fiends had burned our forest and wounded my father, and I was furious. Angry tears scalded my eyes as my hand automatically tightened into a fist, and I slammed it into my chest.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

It was just me in the beginning, the sound drowned out by the chaos of the battle, but the dead joined me, banging their swords to their armored chest plates, slamming their weapons against their shields.

The sound grew in unison, so loud that it brought the entire battle to a momentary halt.

Even my father stopped calling out.

I moved forward and continued to slam my gloved fist into my chest. “You will not take this forest. You will not take my people.And you will not take my father.”

Wrath moved ahead of me, stepping to the side as he watched me with a mesmerized stare.

I beat my chest harder, watched the Barbarians hesitate at my ferocity, clearly not expecting a rage hotter than the flames they’d released onto this forest. Instead of attacking me right away, they seemed paralyzed by the cacophony of drums from the dead I commanded, all of them rising and turning the tide against them.

Wrath continued to stare, wearing the same pride my father wore whenever he looked at me. “All hail the Death Queen.”

I lowered my fist from my chest—and the world went silent. “Let’s go.”

Only the one in the middle seemed unaffected by my display of strength. Perhaps his ego was wounded. Perhaps he was furious that a woman was the one to topple his siege to the ground. He stepped forward first and did a maneuver with his blade, flicking it around his wrist and then crossing his body for another dance, showing a speed I could barely discern. Then he came to a halt. “Ladies first.”

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