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How to be merciless.
She’d been born for this.
Yet Lara said nothing because words would not convince these people who believed—rightly—that she was a liar.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
She moved.
These were battle-hardened warriors, but the element of surprise was hers. And she was what she was. Holding nothing back, she whirled, fists and feet a blur as she disarmed the soldiers around her, knocking them down. Driving them back.
Ahnna launched at her with a scream, but Lara snaked a foot around her leg, and rolled with her, coming up with the tall princess in a chokehold, the other woman’s knife in her free hand.
Silence filled the room, the warriors regaining their feet and eyeing her with a new and healthy respect even as they considered how they could disarm her.
Lara cast her eyes around the room, meeting each gaze individually before releasing Ahnna’s throat. The other woman rolled away, gasping, eyes full of shock. Lara rose to her feet.
“You need me, because I know our enemy. I was raised by them to be their greatest weapon, and you’ve seen firsthand what I can do. What they never considered is that their greatest weapon might turn on them.” And Lara wasn’t the only weapon they’d created: There were ten other young women out there who owed her a life debt, which she fully intended to call due.
“You need me because I am the Queen of Ithicana.” Twisting, she threw the knife in her hand, watching as it embedded in the map, marking Vencia—and Aren—with perfect precision. “And it’s time my father was brought to his knees.”
* * *
