Fantasy of Frost (The Tainted Accords, #1)

by Kelly St. Clare

The first move comes, very predictably, from behind me. I cross one leg over the other for momentum and lean to the side kicking my foot high, the kick is full force and straight to the middle of his face. There is a crunch as his cheek bones and nose are broken. It had been six months since I had trained and the movement was not as precise as my kicks usually were, still, it had done the job. There is a moment where the remaining four are frozen with shock. The two men drop my pack, spilling the contents onto the ground. I take advantage of their shock and run to the man on my right. I grab the hand he punches towards me and roll my back to his body, I use his momentum and crush my elbow into his throat. I hear the snap of the small bones through his throat and know he will die soon. I spin behind him as I hear the ting of a dagger being released. The dagger thuds into his chest. I rip it out with a squelching sound, throwing it into the forehead of the man who I threw my pack to. Three down. The two men from the walls are on their feet about to jump down the wall. They have realized this isn’t going as planned. I run at the next man to my right. The dagger thrower. He launches another and I spin above it, catching him just as he is retrieving a third. I land and jump high to level a punch straight to his eye. His head hits the wall behind him and he bounces back towards me, I kick high under his chin. He crumples to the ground. I hear a whistle of a weapon behind me and...

“What is it to you if everyone knows?” I say aggressively, trying to mimic Jovan’s voice when he had erupted about the sleds. “It means a lot less to me than it should to you,” she responds cryptically,