And it was Arnus’ oldest daughter, with blonde hair braided the same as her sister so it wouldn’t get in the way.
No one saw her, certainly not the Bluff Dweller.
He had no clue as he hovered there that she was nocking an arrow in her bow.
Pulling the string back to her ear.
Aiming down the shaft.
She let it fly.
The iron tip penetrated the Bluff Dweller’s left eye, entering easily and slowing dramatically as it came out through the back of his skull. The Meadowlander female in the lake released a piercing shriek as she watched her lover topple from the sky, instantly dead once the iron penetrated his brain. He felt nothing as his body hit the ground with a loud thud.
Arnus tilted his head, shielded his eyes from the bright sky, and spotted his daughter on the rocks above them. She grinned down, proud of her shot.
He was proud too.
Giving his attention back to the woman in the water, he uttered a short command. “Get out.”
Tears pouring down her face, she swam to the shallow end and then stood naked to walk the rest of the way out. She didn’t call forth magic to clothe herself and hide her nudity because she knew her back would need to be bared for what was coming.
Without needing to be told, the woman approached Arnus and fell to her knees in the soft grass. She didn’t try to beg for leniency; instead, she merely bowed her head and sobbed quietly as she awaited her fate.
Arnus studied her a moment before turning to his youngest daughter beside him. He was proud her sister took the kill shot on the Bluff Dweller, which made him realize he couldn’t coddle his other daughter any longer.
Her gaze met his, and she didn’t flinch when he said, “Do it.”
A curt nod was given, and his daughter moved behind the fae female kneeling on the grass. She rotated her wrist a few times, which caused her sword to arc in a circle as she prepared to do her duty.
“Let them out,” his daughter commanded of the kneeling woman.
With no hesitation, the woman did as she was told, her blood-colored wings springing from her back. Her head remained bowed, her sobbing muffled.
Arnus watched as his daughter reached out to hold the wing closest to her at the bone joint where the appendage made its arch. She raised the sword above her head, gritted her teeth, and brought it down hard to sever it from the woman’s body.
She shrieked, not so much in pain, but in loss. Black blood poured from the wound down her back, seeping into the ground. With keen eyes, Arnus watched not the woman on the ground but his daughter.
He carefully gauged her for any signs of weakness or distress over what she had just done. Unfortunately, he could see a slight hint of sorrow in her blue eyes, which did not sit well.
“The other one,” Arnus ordered his daughter, nodding at the other wing.
His daughter’s gaze rose, locked with his, and turned cold. She gave another curt nod of acceptance, all signs of empathy gone, and grabbed hold of the other wing.
CHAPTER 1
Eliana
Seattle
Present Day
I can feel it down to my bones as I stride across the glossy tiled floor of the main first-floor lobby of Byrne Enterprises.
The contract is all but mine.
My four-inch Tom Ford’s with gold ankle straps click a cadence like I’m walking the runway in Milan. My leather briefcase is Ferragamo, and my black skirt and jacket are Alexander McQueen. The lowlights in my hair cost four hundred dollars, and my BMW 8 Series convertible I handed over to the valet moments ago is a six-figure car I paid cash for.
Yes, I have more money than I know what to do with, yet this little seven-thousand-dollar ad campaign is as important to me as my entire closet full of designer clothes.
As one of the most successful ad executives at Carson Dell, I still like to take on the smaller campaigns now and then, so I never forget the ranks through which I had climbed to reach the top. I’ve been with Carson Dell for almost six years now, and I didn’t have to sleep with a single boss to get to my pinnacle. But then again, my father had always told me that I’d been born with unparalleled perseverance, and he taught me never to succumb to defeat.
At the elevator bank, I confidently push the button to the executive offices on the top floor. My appointment with its founder and CEO, Carrick Byrne, is in ten minutes, but I always arrive early just for professionalism’s sake.
The outer lobby for Byrne Enterprises is starkly bare, but once I open the heavy wooden door to the inner sanctum, I immediately fall in love with the soothing decor. The walls are done in soft ivory with a shimmery glaze, the furniture in a blue-gray suede with plush cream pillows, and the lighting is provided by glass lamps and wall sconces with Edison bulbs.