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MARA

S hoving my mouth and nose into the crook of my elbow, I remained low, trying to avoid the black smoke as I navigated the destroyed halls.

Fire was curling up the walls on this side of the mansion—a blaze of total destruction swallowing the walls, consuming everything in its path.

I moved quickly, feeling the tickle of a cough crawling up my throat, but I resisted, face straining against the urge.

But I couldn’t fight it for long, and then I was coughing.

Inhaling smoke and coughing it out, eyes watering from the effort.

Almost there…I’m almost there.

Leaving Wes for the second time in twenty-four hours was one of the hardest things I have ever done.

But the thought that he had come for me— again —melted my heart.

Because if there was one thing I could always count on, it was that Wes would always come.

He would dive into the belly of hell if he had to, but he would always come.

Always .

And I was silly for thinking otherwise. I wanted to spare him.

To do what I could to keep from losing him too, but I was naive to think he wouldn’t follow.

Of course, I had no idea how he managed to figure it out.

Did Giza tell him? Did Ben make it to the plane and already report back to base?

That seemed unlikely since Wes didn’t know about NIT-V2 or the Telvians finally revolting against their government.

It didn’t matter, really. All that mattered was that Wes came, like always.

He was here, doing what he always did best…

supporting me through chaos. And I was glad he was here.

Afraid, but glad. Because if he hadn’t shown up, I wouldn’t have been able to help Nora.

I would have had to choose between leaving her behind just like I had to leave behind Javi or forgoing my attempt to save Telvia to get my mother to safety.

It would have been one shitty choice or another.

But Wes changed that. Because he came for me, he granted me a better option, one where I didn’t have to choose.

A window shattered to my right, sending shards of glass flying as flames licked up the curtains.

I covered my face and ran past. Within another few minutes, I was turning down another hall and discovered it was fire-free.

Thank goodness. Gray smoke was accruing along the ceiling, but the hallway was pristine and untouched—free of destruction. That’s when I ran.

I raced down the corridor, recognizing the ornately carved furniture decorating the halls, and the curtains that framed the windows. The early light of dawn colored the night sky in pastel pinks and purples. It was the last door at the end that I wanted—my father’s office end-capping the east wing.

“ A president’s office should always face east ,” he said as I sat in a chair in his office.

I was four, and had been called into the Presidential Office after breaking a vase in the house.

Javier tried to take the blame, and I let him, but Belinda had a way of sniffing out the truth.

“ To remind him that he is the rising sun for his country and his people, Mara. And a father is the setting sun, slowly drifting to the horizon while the children he bore rise to take his place .”

I didn’t understand him then. I still didn’t, and I shook my head as I checked the timer on my tab. One hour left. I only had one hour to convince my father and somehow get a message out to Sasha to call off the strike.

One hour wasn’t enough.

But one hour had no choice but be plenty.

The two Telvian soldiers standing guard outside of my father’s door were surprised to see me.

That surprise worked to my advantage, giving me enough time to unholster my handgun once more and fire off a shot into one man’s chest. He dropped to the floor in a heap.

The second guard fired his assault rifle, and I leapt to the ground, tucking my head to the side and rolling in a somersault.

My shoulder cried out in pain at the act, but I gritted my teeth as I slammed my back against the wall, taking cover behind a console table.

The hilt of the dagger dug into my hip, reminding me it was there.

The guard fired twice more.

One shot hit the ground right next to me and then ricocheted off to the left.

The other hit the wall above my head, gouging a hole in the wood paneling.

I cringed, pressing the button to release the magazine from my 9mm.

Eight rounds left. Slamming it back into the butt of the gun, I peeked around the table.

Bang, bang!

I whipped back around as both shots fired past me, blowing out a breath. Damn it. He had the advantage, but he was also completely exposed. I closed my eyes, breathing in with a long steady breath.

Two wild shots to make him crouch or seek cover.

One precise shot to take him out.

Another breath, long and full, and then I held it.

Whirling out from my crouched position, I squeezed the trigger twice in rapid succession.

One shot hit the ground several yards to the left of the man, causing him to cringe and shift right.

The second shot hit just a skosh closer.

Neither of them were even close, but they did exactly what I wanted them to—they bought me five seconds.

That’s all I needed.

In the time the man took to register the shots and scrunch his body in the natural instinct to huddle, I shot off two more rounds, both hitting him squarely in the chest, forcing him to stumble backwards.

His body hit the wall, and then he slowly slumped to the ground, leaving a smear of red along the wainscoting.

He landed in a quiet thud just to the right of the door to the Presidential Office—bright red and embossed with the Telvian crest in gold.

I stood up straight, keeping my gun in my right hand pointed at the floor. There was no way to know whether my father was in there or not, but since it had been guarded, I guessed that he was. I checked my tab, noting I had fifty minutes left before all of Telvia would be destroyed.

This was it.

Lifting my chin, I took determined steps forward, and prepared to face my father one last time.

The memory of Belinda dragging me down the hall when I was five resurfaced—the day my father gave me his heart.

I left his office that day feeling as though nothing could destroy me.

How wrong had I been. For thirteen years, I suffered under her cruel punishments.

For thirteen years, I felt as though I had done nothing more than disappoint my father.

Now, after all this time, I had suffered so much heartache, so much loss at his hands.

I had been destroyed and broken and shattered into a million shards of glass, only to be remade into the person that I was today.

To rise into the person I was right now.

The future, proverbial queen of the North.

The First Daughter of Telvia.

I was Mara de la Puente.

And I was finally going to face him. I was finally going to finish it.