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‘Monster!’

The rebel she had stabbed spun to face Areanel, but the moniker held no weight. Not anymore. Not when it came to avenging her son. If Areanel needed to be a monster to rid this world of something far more monstrous, then so be it.

Baring her teeth, Areanel snarled at the rebels like she wanted to show them exactly what kind of beast she could be.

Striking out with one hand, one woman used the arrowhead to slice at Areanel. Stepping back, Areanel dodged the blow easily, but the creeping feeling of her muscles stiffening warned her she didn’t have long before exhaustion took over.

The sudden attack seemed to reboot her assailants, who moved to flank her. Areanel needed to deal with this quickly. Assessing her opponents, she noted that the one she had cut into earlier hadn’t healed—by the rounded ears, she was human. The one to her immediate right, who had begun to creep closer, had large doe-like eyes and softer features. Either they were young, or they were a nymph. Both could be possible, considering every rebel she had come across so far consisted of a mismatched group of differing species who all held the same idea: to end the Andrean monarchy. The last stood back, waiting, and Areanel kept a close eye on him.

As suspected, the first to attack was the injured woman. With a hand still pressed to her side, she lunged at Areanel, swinging the measly arrowhead across her chest. Areanel danced back, but did not advance. Did not lift her weapons or move to block. She waited, eyes piercing the rebel who stood and watched her.

Again, the woman struck, swiping the arrowhead in the opposite direction—but this time, the young nymph joined her, weapon jabbing from the side. The weak hold on his dagger was detrimental to his strike, but Areanel side-stepped the pathetic excuse for an attack. At the same time, she moved away from the trunk they’d tried to pin her against. At least they were smart enough to try to trap her.

Tangy lemon seeped into her mouth, flooding the copper taste and the air behind the male warped. Nymlaris.

A flash of movement had Areanel pulling back. The sudden strike to her neck had been too damn close! Her senses were starting to fog; that shouldn’t have happened so soon.

The black-tipped arrowhead whooshed in front of her face, and again she felt that same vacuuming sensation as it passed. Areanel’s patience wavered. She’d had enough of playing games!

In a whirl of movement, Areanel flicked both her curved blades around her fingers, their familiar weight a comforting strength. And as the nymph jabbed again, Areanel dashed forward, slamming the dagger out of his hand. She grabbed his outstretched arm, bringing him closer so the air whooshed out of him. His chest collided with her back, sending her spine rattling, and she pushed his body over her shoulder. His weight wasn’t enough to send her toppling, but effective at sending her other opponent off course.

As the nymph’s body flew, sailing at her other attacker, the woman tried to hurry out of the way—but was too late. It slammed into her, sending them both crashing to the ground. But damn, the woman was quick, even with the injury to her side. Regaining her footing in a matter of seconds, she grabbed the nymph’s fallen dagger and shot forward.

Aiming one way, Areanel struck, only to change direction at the last minute. Confusion. That was all she needed to gain the upper hand.

The woman didn’t know where she was going to strike or how best to defend herself because Areanel’s assaults were unpredictable. Lethal and precise with her blades, Areanel played with her opponent just as her wolves had done. Slash. Strike. Jab. Areanel landed blow after blow, never hitting the same place twice and never striking the same way.

Cuts, large and small, marred the woman’s body—but still, she fought. She was damn resilient, that was for sure! Something vicious glinted in her. That was frustration in her eyes—not desperation. She was annoyed.

The realisation almost made Areanel laugh. Where the nymph smelled of fear and the male of curiosity, this woman was angry; Areanel respected that.

Growling through clenched teeth, the woman spoke over her shoulder to the male. ‘Are you just going to stand there? Help me!’

Satisfaction ran through Areanel at the look of pure shock that graced the woman’s face. The male was bound on his knees, a dagger placed at his very vulnerable, exposed neck. Nymlaris roughly tugged at the male’s hair, making him grunt.

Looking over her shoulder was her first mistake. The second was turning her unprotected back to Areanel.

In a flurry of movement, Areanel pulled the woman’s back to her chest, trapping her arms in her hold. With one deft motion, Areanel slid the curved edge of her blade along the woman’s throat, creating a wonderful ruby necklace that had the woman falling to her knees and choking as blood sprayed across the ground.

The bound male’s throat bobbed on a noise that sounded oddly like a snarl and a sob, but had he been more concerned about the woman, he surely would have helped her.

‘Do you savages always have to kill first and ask questions later?’ Nymlaris asked, looking around. Areanel rolled her eyes. He hadn’t even been in the fight.

She wanted nothing more than to smack his smug look away. He was acting like he was the only one who managed to subdue a rebel. But his outward impression could not hide his dark circles or the haggard look in his eyes. Nymlaris was beyond exhausted.

‘I find it works effectively,’ Elmrynn’s gravelly voice spoke as he marched towards them. His chest heaved as he gulped air, blood causing his leathers to stick to him.

‘How long has it been since you’ve been in a real fight?’ Nymlaris laughed.

‘Shut up,’ their brother all but growled.

Areanel could answer that—two decades. The last time Elmrynn was in a real battle that challenged him was almost over two decades ago, when the war still raged, and by the looks of it, Elmrynn had missed the fight. His bloodlust knew no bounds. A little taste, and it looked like he was ready to take on an entire kingdom, if not the whole of Idyssa.

Maybe that was why their father hadn’t named him the next heir. Why give Elmrynn a kingdom if unsure he wouldn’t kill everyone within?

She ignored her brothers’ bickering, having learnt not to get involved. Their arguments often either turned violent or, well… violent. There was really no winning.

‘How is Sev?’ Areanel asked, concerned for her gentle brother.