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The other Berserkers stop and watch, still blocking the dwellers as the four rogues circle me.

I note everything about them I can in under a minute, looking for weakness to use against them.

One holds an axe, but seems to hold himself stiffly, maybe an old wound?

One is faster, holding two daggers in each hand, which are covered in blood.

But he has a patch over his left eye and seems to overestimate each step—he’s struggling to see, so the wound must be fresh.

Another man is slow and lumbering, favouring his left leg.

The last one I spot has no visible weakness, so I know he’ll be the hardest since he holds his sword with ease from years of use.

He dies first.

We all move at the same time and I head straight for the last man.

He raises his sword and one of mine clashes with his, blocking his downward swing while my other buries deep in his stomach.

He gags, his eyes widening in shock as I spin, pulling it with me and letting him drop to his knees.

A dagger flies past me, the air whistling next to my ear, and I feel it cut as it passes followed by blood dripping from the wound.

I duck as the axe soars above my head, so I turn behind the Berserker and, like I predicted, he struggles to turn, giving me enough time to slit his throat.

Using him as I shield, I spin and hear the thud of dagger embedding in his chest before I drop him and leap over his body, heading to the one favouring his left leg.

I slide to the floor, avoiding more daggers, and slice at his leg as he howls and stumbles before falling to the floor.

I’m on him in a second, crouching on his chest as I drive one of my swords into his heart.

It sticks into the floor beneath him and I growl in frustration as I struggle to pull it out, but I leave it there, having to jump to my feet to face the last man.

“Tazzie!” I hear my father shout, and I stumble for a second.

I didn’t even know he was here with the dwellers, but I didn’t really look.

That stumble costs me precious seconds and a cut opens up across my shoulder from a dagger I only just manage to slightly evade.

I look at the cut and then at the last of the four Berserkers who’s palming another dagger.

“Now you’ve pissed me off,” I snarl. Holding my remaining sword, I dodge flying daggers as he rapidly throws them at me while I advance on him.

“Boo,” I whisper when I get to him. He stabs at my arm, the blade implanting in my free arm, and I hack at his side with my sword.

He stumbles to the side, clutching the wound gushing blood, and I slash again and again until he falls as nothing but a blood covered rogue.

Breathing heavily, I look down at the knife sticking out of my arm.

Eyeing the remaining rogues, I pluck it out and throw.

It hits one the Berserkers and he goes down hard.

The others seem to hesitate, and I use that to rip off the bottom of my shirt and bind the wound on my arm to staunch the blood flow.

My fingers are tingling, but I can still feel my arm, which is good because it means he didn’t hit any nerves or arteries.

“Who’s next, you murdering pricks?” I call before eyeing them. “Or are you all scared a little slave girl is going to kill you? ”

“You’re the only one dying here, and when you’re dead, we’ll all have our fun with Ivar’s whore.”

I roll my eyes. “Sure thing. Those are some big words for a man hiding in a corner.”

I hear the door open and I know it’s Archel, Evan, and Dray. “These are mine,” I growl in warning, not looking away from the Berserker.

“Awww, soulmate, at least let me get one or two?” Dray implores, sidling up next to me. He looks at my arm and his face flashes ice-cold. “Which one hurt you?”

“I already killed him,” I reply with a satisfied smile. When he doesn’t lose that look of death from his eyes, I sigh then concede, “ Fine, you can have four, I’ll take the other seven.”

“Hey! That’s cheating,” Archel complains, coming up on my other side, and I grumble.

“Fuck, fine, you can have three! That leaves me with four, sound fair?” I look at both of them and they nod. “Good, that ugly bastard with the blue hair is mine though.”

“Got it,” they both say and move apart so we have room to fight.

“If you would so kindly line up in front of your chosen target,” I tease, with mirth dancing in my eyes as I stare down the Berserkers. They finally snap, bored with our talking. How rude.

The big, blue-haired bastard heads straight for me.

A sword is too good for him, so I sheathe it and grab two small daggers, holding the hilts towards my body and wait.

He yells as he swings his sword and I duck, moving under his grip.

I stab at his side before spinning away.

Two big cuts have opened on his side, dripping blood.

I grin at him as he lets out an outraged roar, before swinging and charging with no finesse.

I duck and weave, moving around him and opening cut after cut until blood is dripping from so many wounds his face pales.

Only then do I jump onto his back. He falls to the floor and I wrap myself around him as his knees absorb the impact.

He tries to pull me off, but I duck my head into his shoulder and laugh.

“Say hi to Ivar for me,” I whisper into his ear, before stabbing both blades into either side of his neck and yanking them out before flipping off his back.

He falls to the floor, his eyes wide and unseeing, and I sheathe the daggers and grab my swords again, before turning to the next man.

One has gotten smart and grabs my father, holding him like a shield with a knife at his throat.

I swagger towards them, leaving Evan, Dray, and Archel to deal with the rest. “Not a smart move,” I tell him and shrug.

“I’ll kill ‘im!” he shouts, and I spot a drop of blood from a cut on my father’s neck. I meet his eyes to see he’s scared but resigned. He thinks he will die here.

Slipping my bad arm closer to my body, I slowly pluck a blade from my thigh, shielding my movements as I turn slightly to the slide. “Do it, I don’t even know him,” I answer calmly

He freezes for a second, thinking through my answer, and that’s when I move.

I snap my bad arm back, clenching my teeth as the wound opens again, and let the dagger fly.

It hits him square in the eye and he drops the blade from my father’s neck.

I rush him, grabbing my dad and pushing him to the side before pulling the blade from the screaming berserker and slitting his throat.

He gurgles, his one good eye wide and filled with fear—the look you get when you realise you’re going to die.

I watch him, my face cold and deadly, until he falls backwards to the floor.

Turning my back on him, I spot the blood-soaked dwellers, all pale and clearly in shock.

Dray is hacking at a Berserker, Archel kills the last one standing, and I even spot Evan with a body or two at his feet.

My father stumbles towards me, his face ashen as he looks at my bleeding arm then back to my face.

In his eyes, it’s clear—I’m nothing but a stranger to him.

“How…are you okay?” he asks, keeping a clear distance between us, which shouldn’t hurt, but it does.

Evan rushes to my side, tugs away my makeshift bandage, and mumbles about idiot warriors as he pokes and prods at the edge of the wound. “Grab me a kit, now!” he yells, and my father jumps but rushes away to get it, using any excuse to get away from me.

Gritting my teeth, I look at Dray who follows my father’s hasty steps with a glare of his own, but Archel steps in front of me with a grin. “I win,” he taunts.

“Fuck,” I mumble, then bite my tongue to hold in a scream as Evan digs his finger into the wound.

I taste my own blood as I glare down at the doc who’s ignoring me while he fishes around in the wound.

I open my mouth to shout at him, but he pulls the tip of a blade from the injury and tosses it aside before pressing his hands against the still bleeding wound.

Well shit.

“Thanks, Doc,” I say instead, and my father hurries to our side, passing over what looks like a medical kit with shaking hands.

“You okay?” I ask him, but he refuses to look at me, just stares at my arm as Evan treats it. “Where’s your captain?” I snap, and he looks at me then, blinking to clear his foggy brain.

“I don’t know…I came out when the siren sounded to see the guards already fighting, they were trying to get us all to fall back farther into the bunker, but we got cut off and I heard over the radios they were leaving us to die,” he mutters, finally straightening into the le ader I remember from the first time I came to Paradise.

“Goddamn army men, do they really think we would stand for this? They will never lead after this!”

The door opens then and guards rush in, the captain at the back of them.

I roll my eyes. Of course he’s hiding behind his men.

He looks around the room before his eyes lock on me.

Dray and Archel move to my side, standing with me while Evan keeps tending to my arm.

The way he keeps pulling on the wound makes me want to wince, but I refuse to show any weakness in front of this man.

“What the fuck are you doing here? We didn’t need your help, I had it under control!

” he yells, marching up and going toe to toe with me.

I have to crane my neck back to meet his eyes, and I know he did it on purpose to try and intimidate me.

Idiot doesn’t realise I’ve been fighting men bigger and stronger than me for years.

My size and gender make arrogant men underestimate me, but I use that to my advantage.