Phoebe's POV
The gruesome scene left the entire hall frozen in stunned silence. Only the wounded men's moans filled the air. Every eye was fixed on me, and I could feel the cold, lethal energy radiating from my body. Nobody dared to speak.
After what felt like forever, Alan broke the silence with a sharp whistle and genuine admiration. "Damn! That was incredible."
Nobody had anticipated that someone as delicate-looking as me could fight with such precision. The way I'd driven that blade into the man's flesh was surgical. Right near the heart—enough to cripple him without ending his life.
Harold had already made his way to me, shoving the wounded man away from my feet before examining me from head to toe with careful intensity.
Once he'd confirmed I was uninjured, he managed to contain the fury blazing in his chest and spoke quietly, "Are you hurt?"
