Page 20 of Savage Crown

They jerk away at the last second, but not before my blade slices through fabric and flesh. A sharp curse follows, but the assassin doesn’t falter. They’re trained. Efficient. Deadly.

Rylan moves, a blur of darkness and steel. He doesn’t hesitate. His blade flashes once, twice—silent, calculated violence.

Blood spatters across the stone floor. The assassin falters, clutching their side.

But they smile.

Too late, I see the vial in their free hand.

"Poison," I snap.

Rylan lunges.

The assassin shatters the vial against their own skin.

Smoke erupts, thick and acrid, burning my throat as the assassin disappears into the haze.

By the time the air clears, they’re gone.

I choke on the bitterness clinging to my lungs, blinking through the sting. My heart hammers. The stench of bloodlingers, hot and metallic, mixing with the sharp tang of something darker—something that makes my skin crawl.

Rylan stands rigid, his jaw clenched. His gaze sweeps the room, assessing. Calculating.

Then—he turns to me.

The silence is deafening.

I brace myself for his rage, for accusations, for the sharp edge of his suspicion.

Instead, he tilts his head, his emerald eyes dark with something unreadable.

"You saved my life."

I exhale sharply, rolling my shoulders. "Don’t sound so surprised."

He watches me, gaze flicking to the blood smeared across my arm. Not mine—the assassin’s.

I wipe it on my tunic, meeting his eyes. "Any idea who wants you dead?"

He chuckles, low and dangerous. "You’ll have to be more specific, little thief."

My chest tightens. Lartina. She had been here three days ago. She left a threat hanging between her painted lips like a blade waiting to drop.

I take a step forward. "Was it her?"

His smirk lingers, but his eyes sharpen. "You think Lartina ordered the hit?"

I fold my arms. "You tell me."

He exhales through his nose, shifting slightly as he think about it. Ponder. Calculate.

Finally, he murmurs, "Not her style."

I narrow my eyes. "Then who?"

He says nothing. But I see it. The momentary flicker of something in his gaze—recognition.

He knows.

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