The battlefield was a storm of blood and steel, and Makayla thrived in it. She could hear the clash of weapons, the desperate grunts and gasps of dying men, and the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. Her body moved instinctively, dodging, slashing, killing.
But her mind—
Her mind was on Gino.
He shouldn’t have been able to do that.
Makayla had fought humans before. She had fought hunters, warriors, men and women trained their whole lives to kill creatures like her. And even the best of them moved a certain way—predictable, mortal, limited by the natural restrictions of their fragile bodies.
But Gino?
He had blurred.
It had been subtle—too quick for human eyes—but she had seen it. A flicker of unnatural speed, of precision that didn’t belong to someone made of flesh and
