His Regret, The Crown's Claim
Risa grabbed Zara's hair, pinning her down, her lips moving in frantic screams that were drowned out by the rotors.
"Descend! Now!" I roared at the pilot, unclipping my seatbelt.
The helicopter tilted, the wind buffeting my face as we hovered less than twenty feet above the ledge. I raised my firearm, the cold steel of the grip burning in my grip. Through the scope, I saw the tide turn. Zara grabbed a stone, smashing it into the side of Risa’s head and Risa collapsed immediately, her body going limp, her fingers slipping toward the hundred-foot drop of the waterfall below. Zara mounted her, her fingers wrapping around Risa’s throat, preparing to hurl her into the roaring dark.