matches red King

I staggered, but I did not stop. I was hysterical. I was not well. I was invincible. My armor and my grandfather's staff and the sight of my frightened child and the cold power flowing through my limbs allowed me to push forward one step, and another, and another, until I stood nearly toe-to-toe with him.
The Red King's restored right hand snapped forward to bury the obsidian knife in my throat.
My left hand dropped the staff and intercepted his wrist. I stopped the knife an inch from my throat, and his eyes widened as he felt my strength.
His left hand shot out to clench my throat with crushing power.


Changes Chapter 48, Page 519-520