As if summoning one from her thoughts, another whistle pierced the air, and she rolled. Popping to her feet, she kept sprinting, praying that she wouldn’t lose her balance and fall. An enormous building loomed near the wall, the capital’s flag hanging from the side. Time to get off the wall.
Tempest didn’t let herself stop to think about it. She just jumped, and her fingers seized the long flagpole. Her hands burned as she slid toward the ground too fast, then she freefell. Even though she’d been trained to fall correctly, the impact still knocked her to the ground. She rolled and groaned as she clambered to her feet. That worked better than she’d anticipated.
The thunder of boots against stone warned her of the guards’ approach. Tempest hobbled into a darkened corner and observed as the men ran by, none the wiser that she was no longer cornered. She moved with the flow of the citizens toward the city gate and stiffened because close to twenty guards stood near the exit. Chills ran down her spine as the gates began to close, their heavy hinges screeching in protest.
None of this made sense. Was the king closing the gates to keep her inside or did he have something else already in play? He couldn’t know of her plans or her treachery.
Unless one of your uncles betrayed you.
Tremors moved up and down her arms. No. They wouldn’t. She pushed away from the gates, determined to make it to the docks and the tunnel. That was her last resort.
The jog to the docks was a blur, and, thankfully, no one followed her. She slowed and purchased some nuts and fruit while surveying the area. It seemed like no one was lying in wait for her. Her steps quickened as the tunnel loomed closer, and she entered the darkened passageway. Her skin prickled as dark shapes peeled themselves from the walls, taking the form of soldiers.
They were cutting off her escape, her salvation.
With a short, sharp intake of breath, she rolled her neck. “Please let me pass.”
“State your business,” a soldier barked.
Relief washed over her. They weren’t looking for her. “I am meeting with my family. I only came to gather some supplies.” She held out her nuts and fruit.
Someone lit a lamp. She blinked. Fifteen guards. Another moved from the shadows, and she exhaled slowly. Wrong, there were sixteen, and the last one wasn’t a guard at all.
Levka.
His lips pressed together as he stared at her. “Family, huh?”
She swallowed the lie on her tongue. “Family. Friends. They’re all the same to me.”
“Please welcome the Lady Hound, our sovereign’s betrothed.” He lifted his chin at her. “We’ve been tasked with assuring your safety.”
“I thank you,” she murmured. “But I assure you that I don’t need protection. I am a Hound after all.”
“But there have been rogue attacks outside the wall, and it’s not safe.”
Time to play nice. She batted her lashes. “Then it’s good I have all of you with me. You’ll keep me safe. Now, excuse me.” Tempest strode forward.
Levka stepped up to meet her. “I’m sorry, but I cannot allow that.”
So, this was the way it was going to be. Tempest sighed and pulled her sword from her scabbard. “We don’t have to do this, Levka.”
“You’re right. We don’t, but you’re forcing my hand,” he gritted out. “Seize her.”
The men converged on Tempest, leaving her no choice but to fight. She slashed her sword at the closest soldier, wounding his calf. Twisting, Tempest removed her dagger from its sheathon her thigh and threw it at another soldier closing it. It sunk into his shoulder, and he grunted in pain.
“Stop this madness,” she commanded. “No one has to get hurt.”
But they kept coming.
In another life—two days ago, even—she would have felt remorse for hurting a man when he was simply doing his job. Such feelings speedily fled in battle. It was kill or be killed, and she did not want to die. Fatigue plagued her. The dash across the city had taken much out of her. A guard rushed forward and cut her arm with his sword. She cried out.
“Donotharm the lady!” Levka bellowed. “Every wound she sustains, the king will carve exact replicas on your flesh.”
Another stepped on her cloak, and she released the clasp at the throat, spinning to meet her next attacker. A blow found her leg, and she crashed to her knees in surprise. She hadn’t seen that one coming.
Her harsh breathing echoed in the tunnel along with the moans of the soldiers she’d wounded. Levka moved through the soldiers, his expression eerily blank.
“Give up this madness, my lady,” he said. “You are the future queen of our nation. Come back to the palace quietly. Where you belong.”