Page 115 of Brutal Unionn

My blade hooks another man’s sword, sends it spinning, and I bury my boot into his chest, sending him flying. “Jealous?”

“I just don’t understand why we’re risking our lives for a random girl.”

“Because that ‘random girl’ is probably ten,” I grunt, swinging behind a guard and snapping his arm so the bone juts through his suit. “And we couldn’t grab her during the auction.”

“Oh.” Nadia’s cheeks flush—just for a second—before she pivots and drives her heel into a guard’s jaw, spinning with enough force to rip the blade from his hand.

I catch it midair and grin. “You were jealous.”

“Shut up,” she grunts, ducking under a spear thrust and driving her knife into the guy’s armpit. “I just meant to say Ashley and Mia should be on a plane to Bali with Aoi right now to meet up with my brother.”

“Good,” I nod, wiping the sweat from my brow. “One less killing spree to go on.”

Nadia chuckles smugly. “Don’t tell me this one is enough?”

I see Haragi’s swift movements out of the corner of my eye—massive, precise, like a bear with a vendetta. He doesn’t charge. No, that’s not his style. He prowls. His black eyes are locked on Nadia, but I step in his path.

“Don’t even think about it, sumo boy,” I snarl.

He cracks his neck. “You want to die first? Be my guest.”

Haragi barrels toward me, and I barely sidestep in time, his fist grazing the air where my head was a second ago. I twist behind a guard’s corpse, snatch a fallen spear from the ground, and swing it upward. Haragi catches it mid-strike and snaps the shaft in two like it’s nothing.

Before I can react, his shoulder slams into my ribs, knocking the air out of my lungs and sending me sprawling. I land hard beside another corpse—Suda’s, maybe. Doesn’t matter. What matters is the tanto still tucked in his sash. I rip it free just as Haragi charges again.

“You think dying for him will make him see you?” I rasp, as I move out of his grasp. “It won’t.”

“I will have my rightful place,” he snarls, lunging just as I duck low and slash upward, catching him across the bicep. It’s shallow, but it staggers him.

He snarls, grabs for my throat, and lifts me clean off the floor. My feet scramble for purchase, the world narrowing to the burn in my lungs and the weight of his grip crushing my windpipe.

“You don’t have a rightful place, Haragi,” I cough, jerking against his grip. “You are a tool. A loyal soldier. You and I aren’t so different--”

I twist, fingers scrabbling along the floor until they close around the broken blade of a councilman’s dagger.

Haragi cuts me off, slamming me against the floor. “I will be King, Sho. The minute you’re gone he will turn to me.”

“He would never,” I gasp. “You are not blood.”

Without thinking, I jam it into the soft part of Haragi’s neck. Blood erupts against my face, hot and thick. He drops me instantly, clutching at the wound, eyes wide and wet with shock.

For a second, I just kneel there, chest heaving, staring at the man who could have been a brother to me, who did everything for the approval of a man who wasn’t ever going to give it. It didn’t have to end like this. But he chose the wrong side like they all do. He gurgles, sways, then crumples to the floor with a final, shuddering breath.

I wipe my face with the back of my arm and grab a katana from the blood-slick tiles beside him. Nadia steps over a body to meet me, her lips curled into a grin that’s all heat and violence.

“Took you long enough,” she says, flicking blood from her knife.

“Hey, not everyone has unlimited hair pins like you,” I wipe my brow, and let out a small shudder.

I grab the katana off the ground and rise to my feet, blood dripping from my fingers, my eyes locked on his. There are two guards left on either side of my father in a room full of dead bodies, one looks no older than fifteen.

“You do not have to die for him,” I announce, slicing the katana through the air, spraying blood across the floor. “I will let you live.”

The boy hesitates, breath ragged, sword trembling in his grip. He can’t be more than twenty—green eyes wide with fear, maybe regret. He looks around, sees nothing but bodies. Nadia stands poised behind him, her blade glinting red, eyes locked and unblinking.

“Do not be cowards!” my father bellows from the dais, voice echoing like a war drum. “Die like warriors!”

The boy screams and charges.