Page 9 of A Kingdom of Destruction

The sole voice rising in alarm was the only warning they received before an arrow shot straight through her blind and dug a deep groove into the trunk at her back. Blind panic brought white spots across her vision and for half a heartbeat, she couldn’t move.

The fae werehere.

Aven scrambled to her feet, reaching for her sword and drawing it before she moved away from the blind. Already, within seconds, the camp had gone from organization to pure chaos. Her narrowed eyes scanned the face, assessing the issue before lurching into battle.

They’d been ambushed.

Somehow, her plans must have leaked, the enemy getting wind of the human’s plan. Or perhaps the fae were once again blessed with the gift of Sight and already ten steps ahead.

A second arrow whizzed near her head close enough to ruffle her hair. A shudder worked its way along her spine and for half a heartbeat—all she could spare—pure terror rippled through her.

The fae were nightmares made flesh. Their hammered silver and gold armor caught the dim light, making them shine like vengeful gods. Their weapons pulsed an eerie blue, reeking ofmagic far beyond mortal means. They poured into the camp from all sides and left no room for escape.

Her battalion was surrounded.

Aven’s world narrowed to the warrior before her, bow drawn, arrow aimed at her heart. Their eyes locked. His nostrils flared. The arrow flew. She ducked, avoiding the hit and rearing up with her sword at the ready, all uncoiled strength.

The fae dropped his bow and reached to the holster at his side, drawing his own sword in time to meet her parried thrust. Their blades crossed with a ringing clang of metal against metal. The impact jarred her bones.

Aven grit her teeth and pushed forward.

They struggled together, the warrior cutting the air between them. This close, the sword wasn’t going to be her best option, not when she needed more space. The fighting closed in around them with bodies on top of bodies. Grunts. Screams. The wet thud of steel meeting flesh. Weapons clashed together and from somewhere nearby, one of her men fired off a shot.

The fae might be faster but they were outnumbered.

The fae warrior’s blade whistled past her face.Too close.Her sword was a liability in these tight quarters. Aven dropped it, drawing a dagger from her thigh holster in one fluid motion.

She slashed, the blade finding purchase in the sliver of exposed skin at his collarbone. Blood welled, staining his pristine armor. Her runes pulsed, keeping her protected. A comforting warmth against the chaos.

The fae snarled, all animal fury. Aven pivoted, barely avoiding a strike that would have opened her thigh to the bone. Her skin felt too tight, stretched thin over the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

A blast of fae magic whipped across the clearing. The air crackled, heavy with ozone. Nearby soldiers faltered, stunned.

“Keep together! Watch each other’s backs!” Aven screamed for them. They had to keep pushing against the line. “Use your wands if you can’t maneuver.”

There were more of them, she reminded herself. Even drained from their hike out here, her soldiers should be able to hold their own. This is what they’d trained to do.

The fae matched her blow for blow. Sweat stung her eyes. Her throat was sandpaper dry. She intercepted a punch with her forearm, the newly updated rune there flaring to life. In the beat of the fae’s surprise, she slammed her forehead into his face. Cartilage crunched. Blood gushed.

Aven didn’t hesitate. She hammered at him until he dropped to his knees. The dagger found his throat, biting deep. Blood fountained, coating her hands, her face. Hot. Sticky. Metallic on her tongue.

Her first kill had always been the hardest.

Now she did not hesitate, didn’t even flinch. Once she had the opening, she took it.

Blood coated her blade as she tore through the camp. Major Stone found his way to her side and between the two of them, they cut a path of carnage through the soldiers. She whirled to the left and another fae fell to her blade, her wand in the opposite hand, and she alternated between steel and magic.

She glanced at Major Stone with a flat gaze before sending him off to help the men toward the outskirts of the camp.

“I’m going to be fine,” she assured him. Blood dripped down her fingers and her wrist. Not hers. “Go where you’re needed.”

A scream from the camp’s edge. Two more fae lunged at them. Stone’s sword flashed, stunning the first. Aven moved in for the kill, her blade finding the weak spot in the armor with practiced ease. The body crumpled, twitching.

“Are you sure?” Stone questioned.

“Don’t challenge me again.” Aven shot him a sidelong glance. “Go.”

She killed five more before the air fell silent, the echoes of the battle fading fast. She lingered in the center of the clearing listening to the death throes of several of the fae who were slow to expire. None of them had been left alive and, at her best count, they’d only lost six of the men she led out here.

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