“Wasn’t planning on it.”

The pounding gets louder, and then I hear a key inserted into the lock. My eyes go wide as I look at my father. The soldiers fan out around us, covering us just as the door opens and Marco comes in with a dozen palace guards.

What could’ve possibly gone on during negotiations?

“Ambassador Freeman,” Marco says, “the king has ordered me to retrieve your daughter.”

My heart pounds at the mention of my name.

“I did not agree to the terms of the revised peace treaty, so he does not have that kind of authority over her,” my father says.

I glance between Marco and my father. He didn’t agree to the king’s proposal. Why?

“You can agree to the peace treaty or not,” Marco says. “Either way, the king is not going to let Serenity leave here.”

I hone my attention on Marco. The king thinks he can keep me around despite the negotiations. Of course, this is his back up strategy to make sure he gets what he wants.

“Dad, what were the terms of the peace agreement?” This is the question I’ve been dying to know.

My father doesn’t answer, but Marco does. “Money, medical relief, a series of programs to revitalize your hemisphere’s shithole economy.” I hear the acid in Marco’s voice. I always had the feeling that below Marco’s smooth exterior there was a dick of epic proportions. Now I’m finally meeting him. “The king would freely give all of this so long as you stayed here with him.”

My gaze moves from Marco to my father. “Is that true?” I ask.

My father’s focus is on Marco, but he nods in answer.

“Dad, if it’s true, then why didn’t you agree to the king’s terms?”

Now my father looks at me. “I won’t sign away your life, Serenity. I’ve already made too many personal sacrifices; I will not make this one.”

What my father says brings tears to my eyes. He’s choosing me over a nation—over an entire hemisphere. It’s the most foolish decision he’s ever made, but it’s also the moment I feel the sheer force of my father’s love for me. He won’t let the boogeyman touch me.

“That’s your official decision?” Marco asks.

“It is.”

“We have to take Serenity,” Marco says. “And we will use force.” At his words, the WUN soldiers cluster around my father and me, but it doesn’t make me feel safe. The king’s soldiers outnumber ours, and they’re better equipped. Not to mention that I no longer have a clean shot with them blocking me.

My father grabs my hand and pulls me behind him. Unlike me, my father’s tall stature doesn’t shield him from our enemies. Not completely.

“Dad—” I whisper.

“You’re going to have to go through me,” my father says to Marco, ignoring me.

My hand twitches and I barely breathe. Something’s about to happen, and now I can’t see anything beyond the cocoon of bodies surrounding me. Around us WUN soldiers are casting my father sideways glances. Right now he’s the commanding officer, and they’re waiting for him to make the call. I already know he won’t be the first one to spill blood.

“So be it,” Marco says.

Before I can so much as grab for my gun, someone fires a shot, and then another. Blood and bone spray down on me, and then my father is falling, my father who’s now missing the back of his head.

I can’t hear anything, the shots are still ringing in my ears. But I know I’m screaming, and now I’ve crumpled to the ground, holding my father’s broken body to me.

My father, who taught me how to ride a bike, how to shoot a gun, how to be a diplomat and a decent human being. My father, my last remaining family.

My father.

My father. Murdered in front of my eyes.

Around me, I can sense movement, and I hear more gunshots go off. I stand, letting my father’s slick body slide off my arms.

I’ve heard stories before about how grief can turn into bloodlust, but I’ve never experienced it before. Not until this moment. It builds like poison in my veins, converting my expanding grief into something violent.

Now I am a force of nature; I am the embodiment of rage. Enemy soldiers are coming at me, and I force my elbow into the neck of one and the solar plexus of another. I grab the gun from my bodice, and I begin shooting the enemy alongside my guards. Headshots. All of them.

I’m still screaming, and I can feel blood and tears dripping down my face. I know I look ferocious, and this gives me pleasure. Their fear and their pain give me pleasure.

I keep firing, even as more guards rush in. Amidst the chaos I see Marco run for the door.

I lift my gun, aim, and fire at him. The bullet grazes his arm, and then he’s gone. I’ve missed my opportunity.

The king’s soldiers, who are streaming into the suite, aren’t shooting at me. They should be. They’re not going to take me alive. I’m leaving this place one way or another. If it’s in a casket, so be it.

“Soldiers!” I yell to what’s left of my men. Five are still standing. That’s all that’s left. “Get to the window. We’re getting out of here!” I can barely hear my own voice from all the gunfire. I signal to the back of the room just in case their hearing is as bad as mine.

The WUN soldiers move to the window, and I’m taking out the king’s men one at a time. I back up to the rear of the room, shoving my now-empty gun back into my bodice and snagging another two from the bodies at my feet.