The Mercenary Queen Strikes Back (Lily Hastings) novel Chapter 36

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Chapter 36

In the dark, cramped tent, Nova and Damien Thorn both fell silent, their faces tense.

Nova, in particular, looked wary.

This was nothing like last time–when she had deliberately crashed into Damien Thorn’s arms just to make her getaway.

Back then, she’d made the move herself; now, she was being swept along with no say in it.

She could clearly feel Damien Thorn’s chest tighten once again.

Because his body was so stiff, his hand on her seemed to unconsciously press and knead her chest.

Nova’s expression turned stormy.

She held herself back from just kicking Damien Thorn out of the tent and then called out to Maxwell outside, “I’m fine. Just had a nightmare and woke up.”

That was why he heard those noises.

Nova was just winging it with that excuse.

But Maxwell just took her word for it.

To Maxwell, no matter how strong Nova tried to seem after coming home, she was still his little sister.

So in his eyes, she was still just that–a girl who’d get spooked sometimes.

With that thought, Maxwell couldn’t help but smile and shake his head, calling over gently, “If you need anything, just call for me. Try to get some sleep.”

With that, he turned and headed back to the tent where he stayed.

Little did Max know, there was another man inside his little sister’s tent just moments ago.

The tent was tiny, and with Damien Thorn’s height, any movement from either of them and Max would’ve heard it.

Nova held her breath, careful not to make a sound.

She could only let Damien Thorn press down on her, frozen in place.

Luckily, Damien Thorn stayed perfectly still, too.

He matched her silence.

As soon as she heard Maxwell zip up his tent, Nova, acting on pure instinct, booted Damien Thorn straight out of her tent.

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In the split second the muscled man’s focus slipped, Nova planted a boot in his chest and sent him flying out

of the tent.

Damien Thorn landed effortlessly on one foot, straightening up with calm, silent swagger.

If it were any other guy getting booted out of a tent by a girl, he’d probably end up stumbling around, totally making a fool of himself.

But Damien Thorn handled it all with unruffled composure and an air of effortless nobility.

Every inch of his body was rock–hard, like he was carved from steel.

Under the moonlight, Damien Thorn glanced down at his hand.

The softness from touching her still lingered in his palm.

It was even softer than he’d imagined. He couldn’t help himself.

“Boss,” a voice sounded.

Aiden had been keeping to the shadows all along, hidden and watchful.

Now he stepped up to Damien Thorn and spoke in a whisper so thin that it barely disturbed the night air.

As Damien Thorn’s right–hand man, Aiden had caught the whole scene; Nova booted Damien Thorn right out of the tent.

As a killer, Aiden kept every bit of emotion off his face; that was just basic professionalism.

But honestly, Aiden’s thoughts were a total whirlwind.

Damien Thorn was the most savage man alive, the night king who held the entire global underworld in his fist and never spared a second glance at any life.

And now, this guy, yeah, this powerhouse, just got kicked out of a tent by a girl.

And Damien Thorn didn’t even get mad.

Aiden was so stunned that he felt like he could devour a whole sheep right then and there.

After a pause, Aiden finally asked quietly, “Boss, do you want me to go in and bring her out?”

Aiden had no clue who Nova really was.

He only knew that assassins came and went without a trace. If Damien Thorn set his sights on someone outside the punk circles, he would either abduct her or keep her as a mistress.

That was how the big players in the underground world operated.

Although Aiden knew that Damien Thorn had never had a woman by his side, perhaps this time there might be a change.

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Yet Damien Thorn lifted his gaze arrogantly, his thin lips parting to issue a terse command. “Do not touch

her

Aiden lowered his head and acknowledged the order. “Yes, sir.”

Nova was sure Damien Thorn wouldn’t just let go after she kicked him out.

She figured he must’ve followed her all the way to Saint Laurel Royal Academy’s survival training just to take

her out.

She tensed up, ready to go head–to–head if he made a move.

But all of a sudden, the vibe outside the tent just faded away.

Wait, did he seriously leave?‘ Nova blinked and wondered, ‘He just left? Didn’t do anything?‘

Nova honestly had no idea what was going on.

Nova, the battle queen who’d never been caught up in any kind of love game, was totally clueless; she just couldn’t make sense of what Damien Thorn was trying to do.

‘Maybe he’s just here to feel out what I’m capable of,’ she wondered, still unsure.

After all, sooner or later, she and Damien Thorn were bound to end up on opposite sides.

And when that happened, it’d be kill or be killed.

Nova barely slept a wink that night, staying on high alert, ready for Damien Thorn to come back and try to take her out.

But he didn’t come back.

He was really gone.

*****

This section of primeval forest in Wodisen was not like some other forests that had earned the terrifying label of a human no–go zone.

It lacked swarms of wild beasts and deadly hazards.

There were no poisonous dart frogs, no piranhas, no caimans, no jaguars typically roamed a true jungle.

none of the fierce creatures that

In short, apart from the wolf pack they encountered on the first day, over the next six days and seven nights. Nova’s team faced no major dangers at all.

There were arguments popping up in the group from time to time.

Hannah and Claire were still throwing shade at Nova every chance they got.

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But honestly, nothing big ever happened.

Probably the only thing worth mentioning was the fact that they never once ran into Zane, the head of the Taekwondo Club.

Not that it was surprising, though. With a forest this massive, it was hard to just randomly bump into others.

Once the survival training wrapped up, all the students piled onto the school buses and headed back to Ravenport.

*****

At Blake Villa, another morning rolled around.

Fiona handed each of her three kids an egg, telling them to eat it on the way to school.

She looked genuinely worried as she asked, “I heard the academy’s annual duel tournament is starting in five days. Please don’t push yourselves too hard.

“I don’t care about your results. All I care about is that you stay healthy and take care of yourselves.”

At Blake Villa, Charles took care of business while Fiona looked after the kids and kept an eye on their health.

The two of them made a great team; each knew their role, and everything ran smoothly.

Fiona always worried like this because she still remembered how, every year after the Saint Laurel Royal Academy duel tournament, Hannah and Maxwell would come home covered in scrapes and bruises, yet still beaming as they told her, “Mom, we won again.”

Honestly, Fiona couldn’t care less about winning.

As a mom, all that really mattered to her was that her kids stayed healthy.

Maxwell replied, “Don’t worry, Mom. We can handle ourselves.”

Maxwell said one thing out loud, but thought another entirely in his mind. “This time, the Free Combat Club cannot lose to the Taekwondo Club under any circumstances. Even if I have to fight with an injury, I will make sure I beat Zane.‘

Fiona knew her son inside out.

She realized that trying to persuade Maxwell or Hannah would be useless, so she turned her attention to Nova.

She said, “Nova, out of the three of you, you’re the most obedient. You have to watch over Max and Hannie for me. Don’t let them get themselves covered in injuries again, alright? Otherwise, I won’t feel at ease.”

Fiona thought Nova would be the most sensible and responsible among the three siblings.

Fighting, getting battered–things like that would never happen to Nova.

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In reality. Fiona had no idea that letting Nova participate in the dueling matches at Saint Laurel Royal Academy would be the real trigger for bloodshed. It wasn’t a question of getting hurt; it was a matter of life and death.

Nova curved her lips slightly. “Mom, don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on them.”

Naturally, her way of keeping an eye was very, very different.

*****

On Monday morning, the first two classes for Freshman Class A were swimming lessons.

The session took place at the school pool.

Saint Laurel Royal Academy was a school for the elite. Having swimming lessons as part of the curriculum was completely normal.

That morning, Nova was eating the eggs her mother had prepared when she entered the classroom and was immediately assaulted by Sophia’s loud, piercing voice.

She said, “Nova, do you know? Actually, you probably don’t, but this morning’s swimming class got switched because the swimming teacher for periods three and four had something come up.

“So they moved Junior Year Class A and Sophomore Year Class A to our time slot.”

“I’m over the moon,” Sophia squealed.

Nova walked with one hand in her pocket, saying nothing.

Sophia ignored her silence and continued, bubbling with excitement, “See, Nova? You have no idea why I’m this thrilled.

“Junior Year Class A has Maxwell, Ethan, Zane, and Jessica Watson, the other school beauty. Sophomore Year Class A has Hannah and Claire.

“That means we’ll be swimming with the three most handsome boys and the three most beautiful girls in school during the first two periods.”

“Oh my god, this is probably a once–in–a–lifetime event that no one else in the entire school could even dream of,” she added.

Six of the school’s absolute untouchables gathered in one place–it was enough to make anyone scream.

“Oh,” Nova replied coolly.

She was long accustomed to Sophia turning everything into a drama.

As they walked to the pool, Sophia couldn’t stop rambling about finally getting to see the three school heartthrobs in swimsuits, showing off their physiques.

“That must be amazing,” Sophia gushed, starry–eyed.

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Five minutes before class. Nova went into the single–person locker room and changed into the standard female swimsuit of Saint Laurel Royal Academy.

The swimsuit clung to her body perfectly, showing off her long, flawless legs.

Nova’s curves were striking, undeniably sexy, and impossible to ignore.

She had not an ounce of extra fat; her figure could attract anyone.

Yet when Nova looked at herself in the mirror, what she saw wasn’t just her flawless shape.

Her arms and shoulders–skin exposed beyond the swimsuit–were covered with countless scars.

Cuts, bullet wounds, old and new injuries, all over her body.

Some old scars hadn’t even fully healed before new ones appeared.

It was hard to imagine that a teenage girl could endure all this.

At the edge of her heart, a few of the wounds were still deadly.

One particular gunshot had come within 0.1 inches of ending her life.

Every scar on Nova’s body was proof of her survival in the international underground world, of stepping onto battlefields across the globe.

Each mark was a hard–earned medal of her strength–how she climbed from an unnoticed slum girl to the iron–fisted queen of mercenaries.

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