The fool didn’t realize who he faced. What he faced. That it wasn’t a fire-breathing queen bound in iron who charged at him, but an assassin. With a twist, arms lifting, Aelin met that sword head-on. Just as she’d planned. The male’s sword fell short of his intended target, but hit precisely where she wished. In the center of the chains that bound her hands. Iron snapped. Then the male’s sword was in her freed hands. Then his throat was spraying blood. Aelin whirled, slamming into the other soldiers who stood between her and freedom. Even as he ran for her, Lorcan could only gape at what
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Fire breathing bitch baddass queen !!!!!!
