Page 103 of A Broken Promise

I reached for the longbow hidden well behind my cloak.

My fingers were frozen and my palms damp, but I felt for the glass arrow in my quiver. As I touched it, it sung to me—to my blood—as if calling to me.

I watched him take each step. The further he walked, the faster my heart raced against my chest. The distance was far, and I had to be precise.

Act, damn it. Act!I yelled at myself. But I stood still, my fingers aching but unwaveringly stretching the string, aiming the heavy arrow.

One shot is all I had. You are a terrible shot.Priya’s little voice ran wild in my head. A gust of cold wind sang around me, as I aimed at his heart.

One chance.

One shot.

One promise.

His body was now barely visible hidden by the thick fog in the valley.

“For a better life,” I whispered to the arrow as I let it free. The black arrow flew quickly, cutting through the cold air. He turned to face me just as the arrow pierced him. I didn’t look away as our eyes locked. His face was full of disbelief. Mine full of determination. He fell a second later, swallowed by the heavy fog, sending ripples through the mingling air. I quickly slid down the hill, the snow rolling around me.

Slowing down my steps as I saw the blood trail where his body was. My crossbow was already loaded and my Basalt Glass dagger ready to land a killing blow. I moved deliberately, watchful of each movement of the thick fog around me.

I locked my jaw. He should’ve been dead. There was enough poison on that arrow that anyone should have been dead within seconds. Yet his body wasn’t there.

I stopped, just fast enough to pull the trigger at his approaching figure. One and then another. He groaned from pain. My lip curled in disgust and satisfaction.

I was the fucking predator.

Rage roared within me in triumph.

Fog separated as I saw him limp, his sword pointed at me. With a quick glance I knew that my arrows hit the target; one wedged deep in his right thigh and the glass arrow halfway through his shoulder, only ever slightly above his heart.

I shot another arrow at him. He fell to his knees as it wedged in his other leg.

“You,” he said, shocked. His voice made my bones shiver.

“Surprised to see me,Destroyer?” I said back with as much disgust and hate I could summon in my tone.

I twisted Heart Piercer tight in my hand.

“Where did you get the Basalt Glass?” he asked, his voice laced with unpleasantness that brought a smile to my face. Priya was right. This was satisfying. This was rewarding.

Pure revenge was never the death of your enemy, but pain.

It was seeing your offender hurt, defenseless, and in pure agony that gave that thrill unlike any other.

“It’s not the glass you should be afraid of, Destroyer, it’s the poison on it,” I sneered, loading up another arrow in my crossbow, hiding my quickly raising concern with a smirk. He had four arrows within him, all laced with deadly poisons. Poisons that should’ve killed him the moment they broke his skin and yet he was still breathing. Holding a sword, though his arm was now shaking.

“You’re searching for the Rebels, aren’t you?” he asked. If he was scared of the poison, he didn’t show it. His voice was cool, collected. “I will make a bargain with you. I shall take you to them. I know precisely where they are. What do you say? My life for a path to the Rebels?” He clenched his jaw shut, though I could see the sweat beads rolling down his face.

I smiled cruelly. Poison had to be making its way to his rotten heart.

“You see, Destroyer, your death is worth more to me than your life,” I said, taking a step closer as his sword dropped on the ground. He grunted. Pain. He was feeling the pain. But not enough. Never enough.

“My death, though satisfying, will bring you no joy,mage. Buteven so, you could trade me to the Rebels. They would love the information I have on what Mad Queen wants to do with the Rock Quarries’ slaves.”

My heart dropped.

“What do you know of the Rock Quarry slaves?” Taking another step, I was close to him now. Too close.

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