Page 11 of Kiss of Death
I rushed forward—and the battle began.
Kennt caught my blade with his and made a flurry of hits with his sword, just as fast as the vampires I’d fought below but with more intention in his hits. He wasn’t fueled by orders like the others, but the desire for a conquest.
Our swords danced together in equilibrium as the other men joined the fight. I caught a blade with a vambrace and then stabbed my sword into the neck of my next opponent. Let it hang in his neck while I pulled out a dagger and stabbed the soldier whose blade was caught in the vambrace. I kicked himback while he reached for the dagger in his neck, and I dragged my sword free again, ducking just in time to avoid the blade that swiped at me.
Kennt was on top of me, kicking me in the chest, so I stumbled back hard. My body rolled backward, and I jumped to my feet without a setback. I grabbed another dagger from my belt and threw it at one of his men at his side—hitting him right in the eye.
I had no opportunity to get comfortable or arrogant because it was still nine men against me, all taking me more seriously by the second as they watched their comrades fall.
Kennt changed his orders. “Take her dead or alive.”
One of the men retrieved the bow across his back and fitted a gold arrow to the string. He aimed it right at my face, and while I met the blade of my next opponent, I had to be aware of his fingertips on the string. Not on the moment he released the string, but the shift in his body right before he let go.
I recognized it in the twitch of his fingertips, and I struck down my opponent’s sword before I grabbed his arm and forced him to turn around—to take the arrow straight to his neck.
Blood poured from his mouth, and he immediately gurgled as he started to drop to his knees.
I noticed the daggers on his belt, so I took one of them and aimed it at Kennt, who hit it away with his blade. I grabbed another before he went down entirely, the archer nocking another arrow to the string. Before he could shoot me, I threw the dagger at his face, knocking the arrow off the string and making him drop his bow.
Two men came for me at that moment, and I had to battle both of their blades with my single one, constantly pivoting my body so none of them could get behind me, prepared for the dagger that was thrown at me by another soldier and sidestepping.
“Shoot her,” Kennt ordered.
With a flurry of hits, I overpowered one of the generals and kicked his knee, making him buckle. Then I slid my sword through his neck with the smoothness of a warm knife through butter before I turned back to the other, watching him take the wrong step back and stumble over a small rock before he landed flat on his back.
I ran to him then stomped my heel hard on his throat, making him release a soundless scream before my blade caught the sword of another attack. I slammed my elbow down on his arm then struck the heel of my palm into his face, breaking his nose and causing blood to squirt into the sky. With his vision impaired and his body fighting all the pain signals, I shoved my blade down the front of his armor—and pierced him right through the spine.
Now, it was me versus six—half of their army destroyed.
I faced them, taking a second to catch my breath while they took the moment to catch theirs. “I am Queen Lily Rothschild of the Southern Isles.You will not take my home. You will not take my dragons. You will not take my family.” I slammed my fist into my chest and roared like a dragon.
The only one who didn’t hesitate was Kennt. His expression was hidden behind his golden mask, so it was hard to know if he feared me…or even respected me. He came forward and began a new assault while the others followed in line.
Ferocity was on my side, and I cut them down one by one, handling them simultaneously, so pissed off that I was oddly calm, seeing the world at a slower speed than reality, sidestepping every attack and blocking every hit before I returned with my own.
Finally, it was just the two of us.
Kennt and me.
We slowly circled each other as we took a moment to breathe, our swords at our sides but not limp. The bodies of his fallen comrades were scattered on the stone the way my men were dead near the keep.
The dragons seemed to continue their fight elsewhere because they were no longer above us. I hoped Khazmuda and Zehemoth were okay, but there was nothing I could do about it right now.
I had to finish this.
Kennt came to a halt. “Even if you kill me?—”
“Oh, I will kill you. And it’ll be so fucking quick.” I was still and rooted to the spot, itching to launch myself across the gap and swipe his head clean from his shoulders. I needed that revenge for what he’d done to my father, for the cursed wound that had left him confined to bed all this time.
“Even if you kill me, you’ll lose the battle. But if you surrender, I vow?—”
“I don’t listen to the propositions of snakes. You draw out the inevitable because death marches to your door as we speak. I can hear it knocking.” I cocked my head the way he’d cocked his so many times. “Can you?”
He remained still except for the slight raise of his sword, like he knew the time for negotiation had passed.
I held on to my focus and didn’t give in to the rush of confidence I felt. This was the last hurdle, and then the castle would be safe. My mother and father would be protected. I just had to defeat him.
He pretended to rush me but instead grabbed a golden dagger from his side and threw it at my neck.
