Page 94 of Princess of Death

“What a gentleman.” I lunged forward, and that was when the assault began. The other two converged on me and I was surrounded on all sides, but I could move my blade far fasterthan I ever had, even on my best day, even after the greatest night of sleep I’d ever had. Not only did I have speed, but whenever my hits landed, they landed hard.

Like I had the strength of a man six and a half feet tall.

Wrath circled us and watched. “Dagger from the right.”

I ducked and kicked the Barbarian hard in the chest before I raised my sword and blocked the blade from the man in the center. I could process movements now quicker than I could before, blocking hits and then doing damage within the same second.

“Your left.”

I ducked then slammed my boot down on my opponent’s left foot. I hit the spot perfectly because he stumbled back and screamed.

“Quick.” Wrath came forward. “Slay him.”

I ducked the blade coming for my head and kicked him in the chest until he landed on his back. Then I stabbed the tip of my blade right down the center of his neck.

“Behind.”

I left the blade there and rolled out of the way.

The blade meant for me went down on his ally, and he grunted and died with a loud gurgle as more blood poured from the mortal wound in his neck.

I got back to my feet and grabbed the blade before I dodged the next attack.

The one in the center grabbed the other by the arm and tugged him back.

I flicked my sword around my wrist and then did an elaborate routine similar to the one he had done, only able to perform it because I had the strength of a powerful man inside me coupled with my own strength. I wished I could see their expressions, wished I could see the fear in their eyes that they must feel. “Who’s the little girl now, asshole?”

They must have said something to one another because the leader released his hold and stepped back. They seemed to be retreating. One made a hand gesture to someone in the crowd, and then a horn was blown—a white flag.

I moved forward with my blade at the ready. “And you think I’m just going to let you leave?” I asked with a maniacal laugh. “You think I’m going to let you walk out of here after what you did to my father? I’m going to cut you down, and then I’m going to burn you alive.”

The battle fell apart. The enemy began to flee, escaping through any opening they could find in the forest. Some of the elves tried to pursue them, but most of the survivors were too tired and relieved to do anything.

But I wasn’t letting these brutes leave with their heads on their shoulders. They turned to the edge of the trees and began to run.

Wrath suddenly appeared before me, both hands on my shoulders. “Let them go.”

I shoved him in the chest. “I will not?—”

“Your father.” He grabbed me again and held me back, his eyes showing concern rather than anger.

So lost in my fury, I’d forgotten the reason I was so livid in the first place.

“He needs you.”

It was the only thing that could snap me out of my rage—the thought that this might be the last time I ever got to speak to him. I didn’t know his condition, didn’t know if he was still alive.

The look in Wrath’s eyes told me the situation wasn’t good.

I turned away from him and sheathed my blade.

Queen Eldinar had removed the blade from his body, and she applied pressure with the cloth she’d ripped from her own clothing. She secured it in multiple places to stanch the flow of blood. Uncle Ezra ran over, bloody himself but not nearly as bad.

I hurried over and kneeled at my father’s side.

His eyes were already glazed over, but when he looked at me, they sharpened just a bit. His hand took a moment to rise from his heart, weak and barely able to move, but he found mine and gave it the faintest squeeze. “You promised me…” His breaths were deep and labored, breathing through the pain and the weakness.

The guilt that flowed over me pounded harder than a waterfall. When he’d seen the army of the dead, he’d known it could only come from one place—a deal with an evil god. “It’s not what it seems…”

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