Page 38 of A Dagger of Ice and Intrigue
“Move or die,” I grit out. “Commander.”
A flash of surprise slashed through his unwavering gaze.
I had the best spy in my Clan.
I knew that this man, escaped from his frozen land to traipse all over our balmy island, was one of the most dangerous warriors in the Blood Brotherhood. He’d been the only ruler inhistory to sever ties with the Northern Clans and live to keep the secret of how he’d accomplished it.
Though his short hair was so blonde, it almost looked like snow, they called him the Shadow.
Why, I didn’t know–and, damn him, I wanted to.
Too many moments lapsed as we stared at each other.
I’d be foolish to turn my back on him.
So I watched.
I waited.
Finally, when the tension rose so high I thought it might fill this entire maze, the wood in his makeshift shield finally splintered.
I flinched, barely managing to school my features back into the unflinching mask of The Huntress.
But he saw–and his eyes narrowed with curiosity.
He didn’t move. His gaze trailed down my improvised bow, past the twisted vine and wood, with something akin to admiration.
I felt exposed, like he could see all my tricks and the true reason I relied on all of them.
As if he could see all the doubts hidden beneath the titles.
An ominous bell rang in the distance.
That sound was not Protectorate.
The Commander clenched his jaw, his angular face turning even sharper.
I pulled the bow string tighter, my entire body on edge.
His lips quirked in a cold smirk as he inclined his head in a mock farewell.
Then he was gone.
Here one moment, a blur the next.
I hadn’t even seen where he’d run off to.
Had he run or simply levitated out of existence?
Vanished, before I could blink.
Not a trace of the man, only the cold air where he’d stood.
“Like a fucking ghost,” I muttered.
Nobody could move that fast, not even the god themselves.
It was impossible.
