The Alpha's Dragon
The faint hiss of movement through smoke.
She held her breath, crouched low, and waited.
The assassin swept past, missing her by inches. In one fluid motion, she lunged low, her blade severing his tendon. He collapsed with a strangled groan, and before he could recover, she forced his face into the mud. Her hands firm and steady, her face unreadable, waiting, listening, until all sound and movement died.
On the fifth night, they tried to crush her with numbers. Ten assassins swooped through the forest, talons tearing trees apart. Valia dove into the river, the current tearing her downward into darkness.
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