Leave No One Alive

Julian Vale worked the dagger through the tent flap and slipped inside in one smooth motion, left hand already rising, the Stillstone ready to crush between his fingers.

He never got the chance.

The tent wasn't empty, but it wasn't occupied by the man he'd come for either.

Three armored figures sat waiting in the dark, blades already drawn, expressions carved from pure, unhurried patience the look of people who'd been expecting company for quite some time.

Wrong. The thought hit Julian like cold water. This is wrong. He's not here.

A single word lit up behind his eyes, bright red and absolute.

Trap.

Every instinct he owned screamed the same conclusion at once this hadn't been a sneak attack. It had been an invitation.

No time to chase the question of how Kael could possibly have known. He spun on his heel, already shouting through his earpiece.

"Ambush! Fall back, fall back now!"