Page 1 of Savage Kingdom

Preface

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived in a palace surrounded by snow.

She dreamed of kings, princes, and knights, protectors that would slay her demons at night.

She was young but bright; she was small yet brave, taught to fight enemies from a young age.

She lived in secrecy and shadows, ready to right the wrongs of the world. Too bad for her that her enemies would not be coming by plane nor by boat, but were residing in her own home.

Not even a girl, and she was defiled; not even a woman, and she was exiled. So she vowed to make them all pay.

The little girl waited and grew her strength; she gathered forces and moved armies. She would get her revenge.

She wasn’t going to stop until everyone who wronged her was dead.

Empty spaces gavesome people panic and made them realize just how lonely their lives were—not me. Empty spaces reminded me that I had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

My phone vibrated on the counter, and I knew who it was without having to look at it. Damian, the current head of the organization I worked for, and pain in my fucking ass. I looked at the message and sighed.

Grabbing my phone, I dialed Bastian. I guess I could call him a protégé of mine in this new world since I’d raised him. “The meet has been set up. Meet me in Barranquilla.”

There was no more need for pleasantries, and it wasn’t because of his lack of trying. Bas still sought warmness in others; it’s why he spent so much time between a woman’s legs in his off time. He needed to feel a connection, to feel loved, even if he didn’t know it yet.

Getting up, I walked to my room and started to prepare for my flight out of Sweden. My bag carried weapons and a shitload of unaccounted-for money. Before I left the house, I walked to the spare room and looked at the broken person who resided there.

“I will be gone for a few days. There’s food and water, the house will be under lockdown, and I will be monitoring, please don’t do anything stupid.”

Closing the door to the room, I walked out, hoping that I didn’t come home to a dead body. Not everyone in the world was strong enough to handle the depths of hell. Sometimes you made it out to find out you were not living alone, and the person you had been was now gone, leaving behind an empty shell where your soul used to be.

I had hope this was not the case for this pet.

* * *

The warm summerbreeze caressed my skin. It was almost comforting. The ocean was deep; although it was a thing of beauty, it was also deadly…like me.

“You’re exquisite, love, but you already knew that. Too bad it’s just another weapon in your arsenal. So beautiful yet deadly.”

The wind seemed to mock me, whispering in my ear words I didn’t wish to hear.

“How are you holding up?” Bastian barged into my room with a small briefcase in tow. He had already showered, his hair slicked back, that three-piece suit, that cost as much as the view I was paying for, wrinkle-free. You can take the socialite out of the spotlight and teach it to live in hell, but the roots of his upbringing would never go away.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I started strapping my weapons on—twin knives on the inside of my leather boots. A small survival bracelet at my wrist next to my coiled-snake saw bracelet. Two small Glocks—one in the front compartment of my leggings, the other in the back—and my small rose pendant that contained a deadly vial of T. Nothing too alarming—we didn’t want our host to get suspicious or anything. We were in Barranquilla today for a small gathering; depending on how things went, we moved things to the jungle.

“It’s not like I’m scared they are onto me or anything.”

“Not funny. You die, I die with you. Your head and mine on neighboring spikes.”

I rolled my eyes. Bastian was a drama queen, something no amount of torture managed to take away. I guess that was his tell that he was nervous. Mine…well, mine, I don’t think I even knew them. Being the devil’s pawn for so long, you get used to living in hell, and your stomach is a bottomless pit of despair.

“Do people still use spikes?” I humored him.

“Even worse, we’ll be in some unmarked cooler in the middle of the Siberian tundra,” he deadpanned.

“You’re foolish if you think they’ll bury me anywhere near home. They’ll probably cut me up into tiny little—”

“Okay, enough,” Bas shouted. “Do we have time for fun right now?”

I stopped braiding my hair long enough to glare at Bastian. “Keep your dick on a leash.”

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