Page 74 of Savage Throne
I blinked. “We’ll. . .see her tomorrow.”
As they shuffled off toward their beds, I stood there for a moment, watching them go.
The tension of the night pressed down on me, but for the first time since Moni had been taken, I felt something I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in hours.
Hope.
She was surviving.
If she could survive, so could I.
I exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of my neck.
Tomorrow was a new day.
It would bring a new battle—one I intended to win.
My father had no idea what was coming for him.
Weeks earlier I secretly thought I might hesitate for a few seconds with killing my father.
Now. . .
Instantly, the image came to me as if it had been waiting all along, lurking in the corners of my mind.
The sword,Soaring Precious.
Sleek.
Polished.
Deadly.
In my mind, I stood over my father with the cold steel of the sword resting against his throat.
His eyes—those chilling, dark eyes—stared up at me, filled with that smug, condescending look he always wore.
But this time, he wouldn’t be in control.
This time, I held all the power.
He wouldn’t flinch.
Of course, he wouldn’t.
My father would die the same way he lived—arrogant, unrepentant, and cruel.
In the end, it didn’t matter to me how he died, just as long as he did.
I imagined driving the sword through his chest, feeling the resistance of bone and muscle before the blade sank deep into his heart.
I could see the blood pouring from the wound, hot and dark, soaking into the ground beneath him.
And I saw how his eyes widened and the smugness fading into nothingness.
I was going to kill him.
I wouldn’t hesitate.
