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... at the Heiress.
But their pickaxes sank harmlessly into the red fabric of her dress, no blood, no reaction, as the Heiress calmly raised her war axe.
Slash!
Two heads fell, one body sliced unevenly in half, an imperfect strike that made Rosana click her tongue.
"That’s twenty-three for me already," Rosana slung a waraxe on her shoulder, her gaze darting at Lila. "And you?"
Lila’s brows twitched, Mel’s presence lingered behind her like a gentle pressure as ...
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