Norin grins while the others raise their weapons. “I do.”
Everything happens fast.
Too fast.
Char spins, shielding me with his large body, pressing me against the wall with both hands positioned around my head, making me feel smaller than I am.
He grunts, and I know he’s been struck. By what? I’m not sure. He grunts again, and I force my hand between us, reaching for my blade, but I can’t lift my skirt, not with Char shoving his body against mine.
Then suddenly, I don’t feel his weight against me anymore. He’s gone, being pulled away and forced to his knees.
The broken glass held to his throat.
The same place my blade had been.
But it’s not my hand holding the object that can end his life.
It’s Norin’s.
My blade. My blade! I reach for it with lightning speed, pulling up my skirt and yanking it free. Norin’s grin only grows when I hold it in front of me.
“Now, where did someone like you get something like that?” His eyes rake over me, and I try not to shiver. “Boys, grab her,” Norin demands, and I hold my blade firm, my eyes meeting each of theirs, daring them to advance. To make the first move.
My actions need to be planned, premeditated, otherwise, we won’t survive this, not with so many of them and only one of me.
“I don’t know, Norin. I don’t want to get sliced.” One of the men physically winces, even though my blade hasn’t even touched him.
“I said grab her.” Norin’s jaw sets, and it’s clear who the leader of this group is.
“Get away from—” Two of them rush me at once, something no amount of training could have prepared me for. I’m fast, but notthatfast.
I duck right as one of them tries to grab me. Moving straight past him, I make my advance on the taller one with dirty blond hair.
I drive my blade deep into his upper thigh, and he screams. I have no doubt that I hit his femoral artery, and I freeze as panic and dread grip me in a way that I’ve never experienced.
He’s going to die.
I’ve never killed anyone before. This blade has never actually pierced human skin. It’s never actually harmed anyone.
Until now.
My heart speeds up, and my pulse throbs in my ears, but I can’t stop. I have to keep going.
I rip my blade from his leg with only one thought on my mind.I’m so sorry.
But I keep myself from saying it out loud.
They did this. Not me.
The man I dodged is back in my line of sight. I lift my arm, preparing to drive my weapon into the soft flesh just above his collarbone, but he grabs my wrist, squeezing so tight I know he’ll leave a bruise.
But bruises don’t matter if you’re dead.
I aim a kick at his groin, a cheap shot he anticipates. With his left hand still holding my wrist, his right grips my ankle, yanking meforward and knocking me off balance.
Another makes his advance, working quickly to pry my fingers open.
My blade falls to the ground, and my heart stops.
