“Kill them!” Jag orders behind me, his usual calm replaced by anger. All I can think is that he sees his mistake in inviting members of other Families to watch the execution—people who might need him politically but also have no interest in risking their lives to save his.

The guard whose nose I broke unsheathes his knife while the other one yanks my head back, exposing my throat.

“Nova!” my dad yells, but he and the executioner are outnumbered, fighting four guards.

Ash, too, calls out for me, but his hands are still bound. He whips his head to the side, smashing it into the face of the guard on his right.

My guard steps toward me, his fingers tightening around his knife handle. I attempt to go backward, but the other guard’s grip on my hair makes it impossible to move. I keep my eyes open, looking straight at my oncoming killer.

“Do you think you’ll remember this?” I ask. “The day you killed an innocent seventeen-year-old? Or will it just be another day working for Jag?”

For a split second, he hesitates. Instead of softening, though, his expression hardens and he closes the distance between us. Just as his blade comes toward me, there’s a buzzing sound and the guard grunts like the wind was knocked out of him. Then his eyes widen and he steps uncertainly to the side, dropping his blade. A wooden shaft sticks out of his back. An arrow?

My eyes sweep the room, but before I can locate the archer, there’s another buzzing sound and I duck reflexively. The guard holding my hair sways, loses his grip on me, and drops to the floor. I look from him to the crowd, where I see Layla, bow in hand, which she reloads to take out one of Ash’s guards. I search for Matteo, but he isn’t with her, and I’m not exactly surprised. I was shocked he came to London in the first place. I could hardly expect he would risk coming to the Lion estate.

“Layla?” Ash says in disbelief. But before Layla can get another arrow out of her quiver, one of Jag’s men is on her, throwing a kick that splits her bow in half. Ash jabs his elbow into his remaining guard’s throat, and as the man chokes, Ash breaks free of his restraints and moves toward his sister.

I bend down fast, grabbing a knife from the dead guard’s belt and sawing through the rope that’s tied around my wrists. I turn toward my dad, who’s fighting two guards alongside the executioner. But before I can get to him, another Lion guard collides with my shoulder, sending me back a step. The moment he makes eye contact with me, he swings, connecting with my jaw before I can find my balance. My mouth fills with blood.