Page 72 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

I will.

Even if it means I have to fight until my dying breath.

With my mouth set, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. A moment passes before I straighten my back and hold my head high. Though I may not be the Captain of the High King’s Guard anymore, I’m still a warrior and I will carry myself as one.

Despite the implications of what we’ve learned from Arella today, I know more about my enemy. Ceren’s words echo in my mind, a reminder of what I have to do.

“If you do not first know your enemy, how do you expect to defeat them?”

An enemy I know is an enemy I can destroy.

But…

What if my enemy is someone close to me? Will I have the strength to do what must be done?

I swallow. Perhaps I won’t know the answer until the time comes.

“Asheros.” Savell’s voice breaks the silence, demanding both his and my attention. Savell motions his head to the left. “The window.”

The tenderness in Asheros’s face vanishes, a shift to lethal stillness evident in his demeanor, and his eyes slide to the window on the cottage’s left side. “What did you see?”

“Someone was watching us,” Savell says, his tone serious.

“Kheldryn, Gryska, and Orim,” Asheros commands, “stay with Arella.”

Still holding Arella, Kheldryn’s brows pinch together, her expression laced with worry. Orim nods, and Gryska takes a protective stance in front of Kheldryn and Arella.

To Savell and Ronan, Asheros orders, “You two, with us.”

Like a military commander leading his squadron, Asheros moves swiftly to the door, and then outside the cottage. Night has fallen in the time we’ve been inside speaking with Arella. Keeping his body close to the cottage’s exterior walls, Asheros takes carefully calculated steps, his eyes and ears alert.

Following him, I do the same, muscle memory and instinct driving my movements. At my back, Savell and Ronan stay close.

The sounds of crunched earth sail across the light wind.

Asheros and I pause. He holds up a fist, and I feel Savell and Ronan stop behind me.

A figure moves in the darkness ahead of us, movements slow but calculated. The way a hunter would when closing in on their prey.

Is the killer here?

Who else would be slinking around in the shadows, stalking the only witness to his crime?

Adrenaline courses through me, fueled by my wrath. I withdraw my blades, gripping them tightly.

Asheros pulls out his silver dagger, then positions his hands in front of his face in a defensive stance. With his free hand, he motions toward the other side of the cottage. Understanding Asheros’s wordless command, Savell and Ronan slip around the back. He gestures to me next, and we prowl forward, our weapons at the ready.

I surge forward, past the cottage, leaping out into the open space between Arella’s modest home and the surrounding brush. Not even a moment later, Asheros follows, battle ready at my side.

The figure whirls around, his face obscured by his hood and the darkness. Red eyes land on me and widen. In a swift motion, he turns around only to be blocked by Ronan and Savell. We spread out, surrounding our target on all sides and then close in, forcing him back toward the wall of Arella’s cottage.

“Who are you?” I demand.

The killer says nothing. Instead, he cocks his head forward, as if amused.

If I could see his face, we’d have our answer, but that gods-damned hood he wears falls too low for me to discern any identifying features besides those red eyes.

“Answer me!” I shout.

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