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“Does anybody have a problem with that?” I yell.

Some people step forward, and I smirk before leaping down from the table.

“Because they can go through me.” One steps back instantly.

Others stay, making me grin as I ready for the fight.

“Those who wish to leave The Nations, do it now. Those who want to stay, who want to kill me and take back their way of life now, you will die at my blade.”

I see their hesitation as they debate whether or not they want to fight and die for the ability to do whatever they want. But one of them gets brave and steps forward, and all other warriors step back, creating a circle for us to fight in.

“This should be good.” Dray laughs, and I hear my men taking bets on how I will kill him. It makes my smirk widen into a smile.

Other warriors, warriors I fought side by side with, chant their support for me.

The man is big, and his dirty blond hair is bushy and tied back.

His face is almost square, with thin lips and big eyes.

His nose is crooked, and a scar cuts across his sweaty cheek.

He’s muscular, his chest bare, and his legs are encased in jeans.

He already has an axe in his thick, meaty hands as he prowls around opposite me.

They should know better by now. They may look like the ultimate warriors, they might be used to being the best, the strongest, and the fastest…until me. I will always win, because I am fighting for love, for the future, whereas they are only fighting for hate.

I will win. His blood will coat this floor and mark a new future.

“You will not change us! We are warriors. We fought your fucking war, we died, and now you want to take away our choices? Fuck you and fuck your crown!” he yells, and some echo his statement.

I focus only on him, knowing the others will be carefully watching those who joined in.

He will be a warning to those who still wish to trade in flesh and kill and rape.

“You spit on the sacrifice our people made. You are only fighting for yourself,” I snap, keeping my feet spread and my weight on my toes, my hands loose as I hold my sword and wait. He’s cocky, and it will be his downfall. He will die with my sword in his belly and my name on his lips.

“Enough talking, false queen. Before this is through, you will be on your knees with my cock in your mouth as I show them what you are really good for.” He laughs, but no others laugh, even the ones who supported him before.

The bloodthirsty warriors watching know what will happen.

Their bodies itch with the need to fight.

I feel my men’s anger at his words, but also their unwavering confidence in me and my ability to win.

Swinging my sword, I wave my other hand at him, gesturing him towards me.

His eyes narrow, his nostrils flare, and with a loud cry, he rushes me.

He swings his axe in a strong downward stroke, hoping to end this quickly despite his words.

I duck the swing easily and stab upwards into his arm before pulling my sword free and twisting away.

He screams, his arm dropping uselessly to his side as he turns.

I smirk as blood drips down his arm. He switches his axe to his other hand and comes after me like a man possessed, swinging and screaming.

I duck and weave each blow, dancing around him effortlessly with my speed.

He’s slow, lumbering.

Laughing, I tap his back with my sword, and when he turns to swing, I duck before slipping up through his guard and slicing his face, then I move away again. Circling him as he pants and bleeds, I let everyone hear my taunts.

“You are slow, pathetic. All the years of pillaging and bloodshed haven’t made you a warrior. You are nothing. A fucking useless parasite draining the life of The North. And you know what? You will die at the end of a woman’s blade. I bet that really angers you.”

He roars again and rushes me, almost stumbling from the blood loss and exhaustion, but I’m not tired. I am used to fighting when my body is screaming at me. I am used to surviving no matter what. When others fall and give in, I keep going. I am a warrior. I am the fucking Champion.

I am a queen!

As he swings the axe above his head, I smirk and drop to the sand and slide towards him.

With my own warrior cry, I slice through his legs.

He falls to his knees with a roar, his axe falling uselessly to the ground with an audible clank.

Jumping to my feet, my heart pounding as adrenaline pumps through me, I step behind him.

I rip his head back with my hand, and I press the sharp edge of my sword to his throat as I lean in, making sure my words are audible to those gathered.

“I always follow through on a promise. Your blood will cover my blade. I will kill for our Nations. I will kill those who stand in our way. Mark my words here today, no one will stop what is to come! To The Nations!” I scream as I slice his throat .

I hold him there as his blood spurts onto the sand, as he chokes on it and fights in my grip.

I keep my eyes on the crowd, making them watch as his life drains away into the ground below, and only when he stops moving, do I drop him like the trash he is.

I step over his prone body and place my sword in front of me. “Who’s next?”

Two more men step forward, and the crowd roars with anger, spitting at them. “Traitors! Long live the Berserker Queen!”

I let my head fall back with a yell as I join in. “Long live The Nations!”

When I lift my head again, the chant echoing through the space, I grin at the two men. “Are you ready to die today? I sure am.”

Some might call me crazy, some might think what I’m fighting for isn’t worth it, but I can’t settle down and start a future while our world lingers in the ashes. It’s time to break free from that darkness and move into the brilliance of the sun that fills our world.

It’s time we became who we were always meant to be.

“Two men stand before me, two men amongst something much bigger. But never think you are worthless or small. Without you…” I look around them, meeting my warriors’ eyes.

“Without you, each and every one of you…this world wouldn’t be what it is.

Today I kill, today I face death for every man and woman gathered here.

For the children we have lost, for the women who have died, for the men who have grieved and hardened. I fight for us.”

They chant my name, and they call for the men’s deaths. They know now, they understand what we are fighting for and just how willing I am to protect and die for them. Lifting my bloodied sword, I point it at the men. “Begin.”

They are smarter than the first man, they are slimmer too.

Both are tall, although one is slightly smaller, with a bald head and vicious eyes and a snarl tugging at his lips.

The other is a ginger with long, unkempt hair.

Both are dressed in more than rags, showing their station and are working together as a team.

No doubt for years. I’m betting they are flesh traders from their obvious anger and intelligence.

One of many who work across The Wastes…well, who used to work across The Wastes. Not anymore.

They circle around me, trying to split my attention.

It doesn’t work. I look forward with a calm expression and wait.

I listen to each small movement they make, their breathing, and everything fades but the bloodlust pumping through me.

I hear a small scrape as one pushes off from the sand, and suddenly, everything is in motion.

I turn and stab into his gut as he charges before spinning and pulling my sword free.

I disembowel him and then engage his friend, who yells in anger.

He’s smarter, faster, a true opponent. He meets my sword and pushes me back, slicing my cheek in the process.

Grinning, I reach up and smear the blood across my face, looking as it covers my fingers.

“That’s the only hit you will ever get, boy.

” Then I show them just how much I had been holding back. I show them why I always win.

Why they never will.

I throw everything at him, chasing him across the sand like a true Berserker. Wild, untamed, bloodthirsty, and unstoppable.

He stumbles back under my onslaught, barely managing to block each wild swing, until suddenly, he can’t.

He spins with the force of it, and when I dance around him, I see half of his face ripped open as he screams raggedly.

I end it quickly, impaling him on my sword, my arm around his back as I hold up his weight.

“Today, you concluded your final flesh sale—yours,” I murmur in his ear before stepping back and kicking.

The force sends him backwards, pulling him from my blood-soaked sword.

He falls to the ground with a loud thump as I pant, my sword held at my side. “Now, does anyone else have a problem with The Nations—” I don’t get to finish.

The sound of the gun firing is loud, and I turn too slowly.