"Isn't it a shame the men who wish I'd do that to them weren't here to witness it? It'd save me the trouble of needing to find a reason to kill them." It really was. Half of them could be dead without her having to lift a finger, but, of course, as her luck would have it, none of them were here so she could take a shortcut.

She handed it over with a press of her lips. She was over the popsicle, no matter how much of a luxury it would be for someone else.

Zoya tilted her head to gesture toward the split knuckles. "What happened to your hand?"