AMARA’S POV

The guards kicked Darius’s head across the cobblestones like it were some sort of soccer ball. The traitor’s eyes remained open, lifeless. His features managed to retain the look of fear he had just before he was decapitated. And that brought me just a tiny bit of satisfaction as I watched blood gush out of his torn neck.

“What do you want us to do with the head and body?” Ian asked.

I shrugged, fiddling with the bloody sword. “Discard it in the border, feed it to the ...