* * *

She heard the horn blow and knew that someone was attacking her town. She looked at her sister and Efa nodded. They’d be losing their hiding place but they couldn’t live like this much longer. Every time they had to steal food or get water, they put themselves—and the few who’d managed to make it into the safety of the tunnels under the town—at risk of being caught and killed by Straton’s men. Or worse. For the younger girls, there was always the promise of much worse.

Of course, who knew what horrors lay on the other side of that gate? It could be Prince Marius’s army trying to get in, and that royal was no better than his brother. But he had a queen now. Perhaps she would bring a bit of humanity to the men of the prince’s army.

As she gripped her sister’s hand one last time, the pair charged out of their hidden position toward the big wooden gates.

“Stop them!” someone yelled as she and Efa grabbed the wood pieces blocking the doors and lifted, tossing them aside.

Hands grabbed her, but she swung her arms, hitting the men, and lunged for the third and last piece of wood. She and Efa tossed it aside together as the soldiers caught her and her sister and dragged them away.

The doors banged open and . . . two mules ran in.

Two mules. Mules!

The soldiers laughed and one said to her, “I guess your great rescuers aren’t coming, whore!”

Foolish! How could she have done something so foolish?

The soldiers started to bind her and her sister’s wrists, to drag them to the brothel.

But before the men could tie those bindings tight, one of the mules lifted its head and that’s when she realized the animal’s throat had been cut. Its eyes were also red from blood and it . . . it was dead.

It was dead!

The mule swung its head toward her and her abductor and the man’s grip on her loosened as her captor went for his sword.

She yanked Efa away from the soldiers as the second—also dead—mule charged the men.

Both animals turned and began kicking at the men with their back legs, apparently still possessing that instinct even in their dead state.

She dragged Efa back toward the safety of the tunnels and shoved her sister inside. As she was about to follow, she stopped and looked over her shoulder. The attackers came in on horseback . . . she thought. But no. They weren’t on horseback. They were horses . . . and human.

Centaurs! Centaurs with bows and swords and deadly intent.

Grinning for the first time in ages, she followed her sister back into the tunnels.

* * *

Laila rammed her spear into one soldier, yanked it out, spun, speared another. She sensed a soldier behind her, and she kicked out her back legs, sending the man flying.

Caid leaped over her, tackling another soldier coming from her right. Quinn cut off the head of a mercenary to her left. The rest of her battle squad took down soldiers running in from the barracks.

Laila took off toward the longhouse where she assumed Straton was staying and where Keeley was headed to confront him. But a small unit of soldiers came at her from the side, startling her. She reared up on her back legs. One of the soldiers attacked her there with a spear, so she shifted to human, diving over the weapon. When she landed on the ground, she again shifted to centaur and kicked out with her back legs. Bones cracked and a body flew.

She tried again to get to the longhouse but more soldiers cut her off, blocking her from reaching Keeley.

“Gemma!” she called out. “Get to your sister!”

* * *

Keran swung her axe and took another head before she ran into the town behind Gemma. But she wasn’t meant to be fighting by the War Monk’s side. Keeley had given Keran very specific orders after they’d talked to those who lived outside of town and discovered what had been happening since Straton and his men had taken over. And Keeley needed that dealt with in case none of them made it out of here alive.

Samuel tried to follow Gemma, but Keran grabbed his arm and yanked him with her.

Together, they quickly ran down the streets but kept close to the buildings, hoping to avoid running into any soldiers. They reached their destination and Keran pulled out the axe given to her by the dwarves. She ran up the stairs to a front door and kicked it in, but she immediately stopped.

The soldiers assigned to keep an eye on the brothel were standing in the main room. All the women who’d been trapped there cowered behind them. And one of the soldiers, a big blond, had a blade to the throat of a sobbing young girl.

Samuel started to dart forward but Keran blocked him with her body and put down the axe. She held up her hands and said, “It’s all right, lads. No problem here. Everyone can stay calm.”

The blond nodded to one of his men and he came toward Keran. He pointed a sword at her belly with one hand and reached for the rest of her weapons with the other.

As he leaned in a bit, Keran looked over the shorter man’s shoulder at the girl currently being held hostage. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t even smile. Keran just stared and waited.

The girl’s gaze slid away, then back.

That was all Keran needed.

* * *

Straton stormed from his bedroom, putting on his chainmail as he walked.

“What is going on?” he demanded, hearing the warning calls and screams from outside the walls.

“We’re under attack, my prince,” one of the mercenaries announced.

Straton smiled. “My brother is finally here to face me.”

“No, my lord. Something else.”

Allowing his squire to finish putting on his clothes and bits of armor, Straton stared at the mercenary. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s not Prince Marius,” the man repeated. “But I did see Amichai.”

“Amichai? What are Amichai doing . . .” Straton’s words faded out. “That mad bitch.” He laughed. “That mad, wondrous bitch! The false queen is here attacking me!”

Loving the very idea, Straton adjusted his armor and stalked through the feasting hall toward the front doors but abruptly stopped midway.

And without even turning around, he knew the false queen was already behind him.

* * *

Keeley pushed her way through the small door that led into the jarl’s bedroom. She hadn’t been acquainted with this type of royal home; the jarls of the past had faded to mere memory ages ago. But these stone buildings had held up well and the dwarves knew about the ways those rulers would get their young children and wives to safety during wartime.

Once she was halfway out of the escape tunnel door, she paused to take a quick look around the bedroom. She didn’t see anyone, but she could hear . . . sobbing. Muffled sobbing.

Dragging herself completely out, Keeley stayed in a crouch and inched quickly across the dark bedroom. She froze when she reached the bed, spotting the bruised and obviously battered naked woman chained to the bedpost. Keeley went to her quickly. She knew she shouldn’t. She had one goal. To sneak up behind Straton and slit his throat. That was it. That was all she was supposed to do. But how could she just leave this woman here? Suffering. The answer was, she couldn’t.

Keeley grasped the cuffs that kept the woman trapped.

“Don’t bother,” the woman whispered through her tears. “They’re dwarven made. You can’t—”

One cuff fell away; then the other.

Shocked, the woman gawked at her. “How did you . . . ?”

“Blacksmith secrets,” Keeley whispered back. “Now go. Through the tunnel on the other side of the bed. I left the door open. Go before he comes back.”

“He’ll kill you,” she warned.

“Maybe. But at least you’ll be gone. Go someplace safe; don’t look back.” Keeley started to go but stopped, grasped the woman’s bruised but now free hands, and added, “I am so sorry for what’s happened to you. So sorry.”

Determined to keep Straton off this woman’s back, Keeley would no longer lure him to his bedroom for a quick blindside attack, which was what she and Gemma had planned. Instead, Keeley went to the big open doors that led out into the feasting hall. No longer crouching, she walked away from the safety of that bedroom and into the hall. She waited until he turned and spotted her.

“Come to face me, bitch?” Straton taunted.

She was surprised to find that he was actually quite handsome. She’d assumed he’d be horrific looking. A living monster. But no.

It was amazing how someone so handsome could be so unbelievably cruel.

“Want revenge, do you?” he asked. “For your family?”

Keeley pulled her hammer from its sheath, letting the head slap hard into her opposite palm.

The prince laughed. “Oh, dear girl . . .”

He made a motion with two fingers and soldiers appeared from dark corners around the room. Weapons out, advancing on her.

The prince, however, spun around and again started toward the exit.

* * *

Samuel was busy trying to figure out how he could get the poor girl away from her captor and get the rest of the women out of the brothel without being harmed by these brutes, when Keran suddenly slapped both her hands onto the face of the man in front of her and leaned in as if to kiss him. But the man started screaming as Keran forced him to the ground.

Startled, most of the soldiers simply watched the attack, but a few attempted to rescue their comrade. The captive girl tried to drop down so she could get away from the blond man holding her but he was quick and yanked her back. But then the other women threw themselves at the soldiers standing with him. The soldiers who’d kept them here against their will. With just fists and feet and their bodies, they assaulted the men.

Samuel jumped over Keran and the soldier she still had pinned to the floor and went right for the young girl. The blond man started to drag the blade across her throat, but Samuel followed Keran’s example and tackled the man to the ground with the poor girl stuck between them. He grabbed the man’s hand and pulled with all his strength to get the blade away. The girl took her chance and slipped out from between them.

The soldier used his leg to flip Samuel over him. When Samuel landed, he rolled over, expecting to see the man going after the girl. But he didn’t have the chance.