Page 124 of Echoes of War

Alexiares was behind me, pulling me to his lips. He kissed me deeply, his reluctance to pull away telling a story we were both too scared to share. I held his face, staring into the eyes I’d thought I’dforever hate, had been desperate to get rid of. Now, I was scared to death I’d never see them again.

“Don’t,” I said, sensing the words that were on the tip of his tongue. Grabbing his hand, I held it tight, intertwining my fingers with his, my thumb stroking the ‘hell’ part of the hellbent.

He smiled at me, kissing the tip of my nose. My weakness that he’d come to know well. “I won’t,” Alexiares said, throwing me a mocking salute. “Until we meet again, my lethal little princess.”

And then he was gone. Weaving into the trees and disappearing back to where he was needed. I reminded myself of the fact as I faced the family left standing before me. Two of whom stared at me with blank faces, unsure of where they fit into this equation. That meant little to my sisters, they were determined to fight for those who lay within the confines of our home.

“If you can still breathe, you can still fight. If we go down, we go down?—”

“Together,” Riley interrupted, giving my hand a squeeze.

He grabbed Abel, guiding him to where they would lie in wait. Abel turned back a few feet away. “Catch you on the flip, Gen.” With a wink, he let Riley cover him in moss and vines, blending them into the trees.

“Until fate decides to intervene again,” Moe led, waiting for me to finish the only departing words we’d let each other say.

“Whenever destiny chooses to meddle once more.” I grinned, deciding to add to it. “And a sorry son of a bitch who ends up the victim of your Wrath.”

“Let’s teach these assholes a lesson about fucking with someone’s home,” Reina said darkly.

I met Moe’s widened eyes, her expression matching my own, our jaws on the floor. Reina never cussed, but I guess some occasions called for it. She gave us a wicked grin, climbing into the tree above me, bow and arrow strapped onto her back.

What do the American Revolution, the Civil War, and the Vietnam War have in common? Guerrilla Warfare and its uncanny ability to win the damn thing. Mastering the art of stealth is commendable, but what you really need to account for is the element of surprise.

I lay in between the brush, dried leaves of the winter covering my body, making me undetectable from the camo covering me, head to toe. My fingers thumbed the pin on my grenade as I listened for the approach of our enemy. They were nearing. I forced myself to still, focusing on a life-skill my father had taught me with every hope I’d never need to use it. Four seconds in, hold for seven counts, exhale for eight. Tactical breathing was important if I wanted to shut down my fight-or-flight response and keep my cognitive well-being in check.

Well, that and theSuprasthat could be within their ranks. Last thing we needed was them detecting us before we were ready to make ourselves known. I could only hope my soldiers were doing the same.

The ground crunched underneath the footfalls of men. They mumbled to themselves, swatting at the webs tangling across their faces. Any second now, and all hell would break loose. An arrow pierced the air, flying over my head and meeting some poor soul’s heart with a grunt. Another one shot past, a symphony of them dancing through the wind, some finding their marks, others planting firmly into the ground.

“What the fuck?” a soldier to my left muttered.

I kept my eyes closed, maintaining my cover with the browns and greens painted across my face. Riley had ensured our trees were tall. The soldiers would have to crane their necks up to get a glimpse of what would likely be their last memory.

Still, I waited patiently, straining my ears for the signal. Thirty seconds. A minute. Panic sounded around me. Some soldiers stumbled, crawling on their hands and knees for cover, others fled.

Boom.

An explosion sounded in the distance, followed by two more. Chaos spilled in from two forks in Riley’s little maze.Surprise bitches.

A soldier fell inches from me. “They’re in the trees!” he yelled his famous last words.

A howl echoed, bouncing from tree to tree.That’s my cue. Springing up like the dead, my unit rose in unison, pulling pins and tossing grenades toward the center of the pack. Covert soldiers gasped in terror at the green gas that seeped from them, wincing as they braced for an impact that wouldn’t come.

Two arrows marked bulls-eye in a set of glossy brown eyes.My sister, my girl. I smirked, taking notice of the intricate carvings Reina added to her arrows when she got bored. We’d waited for Covert Province to approach for an hour. She was bursting with energy at this point.

“My fire is gone,” one yelled.

The one next to him shook his hands, searching for a drop of whatever to flow from them. “Wha—my water’s gone too! Fucking hell.”

I cackled, fire circling the lengths of my body. “Mine’s not.”

Soldiers pounced down from the trees. Riley stalked through the gas to my side, Shadowstep sword in hand, ax strapped behind him. He pressed his back to mine, helping me kill every motherfucker who dared to take our home.

Seth

The roar of this makeshift battlefield was deafening as I fought my way through the chaos, my heart heavy, beating like a stampede in my chest. I knew this moment would come—when I’d have to face my sister-turned-enemy. There was a long period where Amaia had been closer to me than Reina. Despite our inability to agree on most things, we’d had our laughs, leaned on each other when in the face of danger. Now I was the danger and only time would tell who’d prevail in the end.

She raged in the distance, flames covering her body, burning through anyone who crossed her path. Amaia didn’t stop there. No one who knew her would expect her to. She was angry.

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