Chapter Forty Nine

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Ashyn Reighstorm sat under the distant watch of the starry sentinels above, as she dragged her blade across the whetstone.

Scrape.

She didn't drop her rhythm, not when the night owls called out, or when her fingers began to cramp to the point of pain. Even as her tired eyes began to blur, still, she sharpened her blade.

Scrape.

It wasn't only the blade she was nurturing, she was fanning the flames in her cold, dead heart. For if there was one thing that kept Ashyn Reighstorm going, it was revenge. Sweet, petty, vicious revenge.

It wasn't the empress she thought of, with her flowing golden hair, or the bloody emperor, or indeed any of the witches or soldiers. It was a tall raven-haired man, with angry black ink that crawled up his neck and eyes of midnight storms, that consumed her thoughts.

Kade had betrayed them all, and he would pay for all the blood he'd spilt. One drop at a time.

Scrape.

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