Chapter 11
Amara’s POV
The smell of copper hit my lungs before the full horror of what I was witnessing registered in my mind.
I was pressed against the cold stone doorframe of the courtyard exit, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped, panicked bird. Down on the sun-bleached cobblestones, the man stood like a dark god of vengeance. His silk robe was gone, replaced by a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing the thick, intricate dark ink covering his forearms.
At his feet lay a dead man, his throat torn open, blood pooling darkly over the white stone. Surrounding him were four massive, heavily armed guards, their heads bowed in absolute, terrifying submission.
I didn't stay to watch him turn. I couldn't.
Every survival instinct I possessed took over, screaming a
