Rena crouched low in the shadows of the dense forest, the damp earth cool beneath her fingers.
The air was crisp, carrying the distant rustling of leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl.
She had been waiting here for hours, stomach empty, muscles tense.
The plan had been simple—let herself be found, get taken into the palace, and strike when the time was right.
But she hadn’t expected him.
Alex Ravon.
The Blood Hound of Mysiri. War hero.
The king’s most trusted knight.
She had heard tales of him—his ruthless efficiency, his cold, unreadable eyes. She hadn’t expected to face him alone. Yet here he was, standing before her in dark armor, his sword glinting in the fading light.
Alex Ravon
Rena of Ilrath
he said, voice deceptively calm.
Alex Ravon
That was quite the effort.
Alex Ravon
You almost made me break a sweat.
She scoffed, rolling her shoulders to ease the ache.
Rena
Surrender to a mutt who wags his tail at a tyrant? I think not.
His lips twitched. Was that… amusement? No, impossible. He didn’t seem the type to enjoy anything.
Alex Ravon
You insult my loyalty, yet you’re the one running around the woods like a lost cub.
Rena lunged, steel meeting steel with a resounding clash. The force of impact rattled through her bones, but she held firm, twisting to strike again.
Alex blocked her effortlessly, his expression unreadable. She moved fast, her strikes fueled by desperation, but he was faster.
Comments