Page 8 of Rivals & Revenge

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come, my whole body instead collapsing onto the leaves.

I could have sworn something like worry flashed across his face before the darkness claimed me—but that couldn’t be it.

I had spent the last hour fighting and crawling for my life and it had all been for nothing; I was as good as dead now.

Chapter 5

AHREN

I leaned forward, watching the balding man through the scope. Just shy of half a mile away, yet I could see every disgusting freckle on his head.

I made a minor adjustment and paused, my finger on the trigger.

A shot rang out, and I watched through the scope as a bullet exploded out of the target's chest. A heart shot from the looks of it.

He dropped to the ground, dead. His bodyguards not sparing him a glance as they pointed their weapons skyward, ineffectually searching for the sniper.

Just the thought pulled a low chuckle from me. “Don’t bother. She’s already gone, boys.”

My teeth ground together, already visualizing tomorrow’s white rose and the smug smile the perky blonde would no doubt wear as she placed it at my feet.

Church bells from all over the city rang out in unison and I knew instinctively this was her cover to disappear into the flood of sheep, leaving their hollow cathedrals where they patted each other on the back and celebrated their own piety.

It was a beautiful fairytale until you saw the not so pious deeds of those same people the other six days of the week. I may be a self-centered bastard, but I was honest about it.

Begrudgingly, I had to admit once again she was impressive. Not everyone can shoot a man straight through the heart and walk through a crowd of church people and blend in seamlessly.

I slung my Dragunov over my shoulder. The next kill was mine; this one was too close. Half a heartbeat and it would have been mine.

After missing out on this morning’s bounty, the rest of the day had been quiet. OK. Boring, today had been mind-numbingly boring.

Even Zeus and Apollo had been disinterested in chasing squirrels, instead preferring to nap lazily in front of the fire. The worthless mutts better be resting up to catch a certain blonde assassin when she comes to deliver her tribute.

A final look toward the lads and I grabbed my coat, stalking outside before sliding it on.

My breath hung in the air, plumes of white marking every exhale. I jammed my hands deep into my pockets, and briefly considered goingback inside to grab my gloves, before ultimately deciding to brave the chilly night without them.

Twigs snapped beneath my heavy boots as I stomped aimlessly through—Where the hell was I? I had only intended to walk the perimeter of my property in the hopes of burning off some of this mounting frustration.

Usually, I would seal away my minor irritations, like Richardson and the three-day delay closing on my properties to stronger frustrations, like the perky blonde assassin, my only real competition in the region and our not-so-friendly game of tit for tat, releasing them on hunting days.

Releasing every last bit of it as I exhaled with the squeeze of the trigger, a profound sense of calm washing over me as the shot finally rang out.

That moment of release had been stolen from me, robbed at the final heartbeat. The shot rang out with all those feelings still tangled inside me, loose from the neat boxes I usually kept them in. Now I couldn’t figure out how to tame this mess.

If she were here now—I don’t think either of us wanted to know what I would do and I was not ashamed to admit I was rooting for one of the lads to get a piece of her when she came to deliver her smug tribute.

My fingers curled into tight fists, clenching and unclenching, itching for a good spot of violence, the silent trees mocking me.

A distant guttural scream rang out, and I stepped toward it on instinct before freezing in place. Why on earth would I bother myself with someone else’s mess? Then again, wasn’t I just wishing for something to hit?

Ultimately, I decided I would meander slowly in that direction; I could choose a side once I got there.

Leaves rustled straight ahead, sending me ducking behind a large bush, the only thing dense enough in this sparse pine grove to hide my frame. Dropping low, I peeked out, finding nothing at first. Then a lone figure emerged from the denser part of the grove.

A woman, from the look of it, dragged herself arm over arm through the fallen pine needles and desiccated leaves that covered the ground, her face inches from the dirt.

She threw her head back; her loosened braid swinging wildly with the sudden movement.

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