Melisa burst out of her tent, one boot on and the other still in her hand. The camp was in chaos—soldiers running, shouting, grabbing weapons.
[So much for a good night's sleep.]
She hopped on one foot, struggling to get her other boot on while scanning the area. Isabella emerged from a nearby tent, her clothes disheveled and her pink hair a wild mess. Behind her, the freckled soldier scrambled to button her shirt.
"Seriously?" Melisa raised an eyebrow.
Isabella grinned.
"What? I work fast."
Before Melisa could respond, a massive figure charged through the line of tents ahead of them. A darian warrior—seven feet tall with skin like granite and eyes burning with rage. He swung a massive axe, cleaving a nearby soldier in half. Blood sprayed across the ground as the two halves of the man fell separately.
"Holy shit," Isabella whispered, her grin vanishing in an instant.
