Page 68 of Oath of Blood and Joy

“When I couldn’t save him,” she whispered, “when I realized there was nothing left... that he wasn’t your father anymore… he was evil, so evil…”

The air grew thick, oppressive. My heart beat like a war drum, echoing in my ears.

I narrowed my eyes and clenched my fists. The shadows responded, curling along the floor like living things, drawn to my rising anger. “What, Serenity?”

She glanced over her shoulder—toward Angelo—then turned back to me, voice barely above a breath.

“I asked…” Her throat tightened. “I asked Angelo to kill him. There was no other way.”

The shadows screamed.

They burst from the corners like a tidal wave of darkness—twisting, writhing, sentient rage. The air thickened. The lights flickered violently. The ground trembled beneath my feet, as if the house itself was holding its breath.

Serenity’s eyes widened. “No?—”

The shadows didn’t listen.

They struck like lightning. Tendrils of shadow wrapped around her body, hoisting her into the air before slamming her against the wall. The impact shattered plaster, and she crumpled to the floor, blood streaking from her nose, her cheek already swelling.

“I’ll kill you!” Angelo’s roar thundered through the room.

He blurred to her side, cradling her like something precious, his hands already glowing with the spark of healing magic.

Then he turned toward me.

But Enzo moved first.

He threw himself between us and punched Angelo square in the face. Bone crunched. Blood flew.

Angelo snarled—and launched.

They collided like storms, fists flying, fangs flashing, power crashing into power. The room shook beneath their fury.

I threw my will into the shadows, yanking them from every corner, forcing them to rise, to wrap around Angelo and drag him back.

But it was like trying to hold back a flood with bare hands. He tore through the darkness as if it were smoke.

I’d never felt anything like it. Not with Marsha. Not with Maximo.

Angelo was a force of nature—and I was woefully outmatched.

“This escalated fast,” Dimitri grunted, his usual smirk nowhere in sight as he grappled with Angelo’s arm. “Hey, Your Highness—maybe pick on someone who isn’t mourning her father, yeah?”

He strained against Angelo’s strength, planting his feet as Steve lunged in from the other side, both of them trying to pin Angelo down.

“Knock it the hell off!” Dimitri snapped, yanking Angelo back another step. “You want to fight? Fine. But not her.” His eyes flicked to me, full of sharp fury. “She’s not the enemy, jackass. Grief is.”

But Angelo wasn’t stopping. Dimitri’s snarl cut through the chaos as he wrestled Angelo back by sheer force of will—but it was slipping.

“Joy.”

Enzo’s grip clamped around my wrist, dragging me away from the fray with no room for argument. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Steve tore himself from Angelo with a frustrated curse, delivering one last blow before falling in beside us.

“Don’t die, asshole,” he muttered as we retreated.

Dimitri wrapped his arms around Angelo in a brutal bear hug, locking him down with everything he had. “Get her out. I’ve got this.”

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