Azaliyah moved on instinct. The black dagger in her hand burst apart into ribbons of violet light, reforming mid-strike into her twin aurora blades. Purple fire ran their edges as she caught both incoming swords with a ringing clash that sprayed sparks across the clearing. The Thorn warriors went still.
Camron’s grin appeared slow and dangerous at the edge of the ring. “There she is.”
Azaliyah drove forward, twisting her wrists. Her glowing blades slid along the curved swords, forcing them wide before she pivoted cleanly to the side. Violet light trailed after her like silk set on fire.
“I don’t borrow weapons,” she said coolly. “I improve them.”
The scarred woman’s eyes sharpened for the first time with real respect. Then she smiled.
“Good.”
She attacked harder.
The scarred warrior
