Page 163 of Savage Crown

The wind shifts.

A rustling.

Not from the trees.

From the rocks.

The shadows.

I feel it before Rylan does.

The last remnants of Nhilian’s men, probably waiting for their master to return. Tough luck.

I don’t even think.

The world blurs around me as I rise to my feet, spinning just as the first blade comes hurtling toward my throat.

I catch it.

My fingers close around the steel before it reaches me.

Before it can even graze my skin. I blink.

The dark elf in front of me hesitates, his breath hitching.

He didn’t expect that.

Neither did I.

Then, chaos.

More of them.

Five. Six.

Rylan is already moving, blade in hand, fluid, fast, brutal.

But I am faster.

I don’t have a weapon.

I don’t need one.

The first soldier lunges.

I duck beneath his swing, my body moving too easily, too precisely.

Instinct guides me. No, something deeper than instinct.

I strike, my fingers curling around his wrist, snapping the bone like it’s nothing.

He screams.

The second comes from behind.

I spin, grabbing his cloak, twisting, yanking.

I use less force than I should.

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