#Chapter 65: For Our Prince

Third Person The battlefield was chaos. Ember moved like a well-oiled machine through the fray, her twin daggers flashing in the smoky air as she dispatched another rogue. Blood spattered her face, the metallic tang sharp on her tongue as she spun to deflect a clawed swipe aimed at her throat, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. Just before the rogue connected with her body, she dropped low, her leg sweeping out to knock the rogue off balance. Then, she plunged her dagger into its chest with one swift movement. The beast collapsed with a guttural cry, shifting back into his human form as he went still, and Ember was already moving, her lungs burning as she searched the battlefield for any sign of the others. But around her, the courtyard roared with the clash of steel and the howls of both Lycans and Werewolves. It was hard to see, hard to breathe, hard to hear her own thoughts. She only knew one thing: she hadn’t seen Neil in a long time. Far