Page 69 of The Prince of Power

I whip my head toward Kane. “What the hell is going on?”

He doesn’t answer. He grits his teeth and grips the wheel tighter, veins popping against his skin as he jerks the car harder into a curve.

This isn’t a ride to the airport. This is a chase.

“Kane, stop the car!” I shout, reaching for the wheel.

His arm flies out, knocking me back. “You’ll get us both killed, you stupid cunt.”

My hands shake as I press against the door. There’s nothing I can do now. I just have to wait for it to end. However it ends…

There’s a loud boom, and my head slams into the window. A moment later, there’s an eerie shriek, and I’m suspended in air.

Oh my God, I’m dying.

Jesus, be with me now.

We stop, and my shoulder slams into the door. For a second, nothing moves.

My brain buzzes, but somehow, reason breaks through.

Not dead. We’re on the side of the road.

The driver’s side door is ripped open with a force that rattles the entire car. As if in a dream, a face appears. A face I know well by now—but it’s changed. It glows. Unlike fire, Damian’s rage doesn’t burn—it coils around him like a living thing.

It’s his eyes that shake me to my core. They’re black with shadow, alight with something monstrous.

He grips Kane by the collar and pulls from the car as if he weighs nothing.

Kane scoffs. “That was fast. You must have been lurking outside her room like a?—”

Damian slams a fist into Kane’s ribs. A sickening crack splits the air.

Kane gasps, but Damian doesn’t stop.

Another crack. Then another.

His movements are methodical. Not wild. Not reckless.

Precise.

After what feels like an eternity, Kane slumps against the hood, wheezing and shaking.

Damian watches him for a long moment. The night is silent except for Kane’s ragged breaths.

Damian steps back. He reaches for the trunk, pulls it open, and then?—

He shoves Kane inside.

My God, this is a nightmare. This is hell.

A chilling scream breaks the silence.

“Quiet,” Damian barks out, and it’s only then I realize the scream was my own.

He slips into the driver’s seat and slams the door. His fury is like a physical thing with its own shape and weight.

“We need—” My voice cracks. “We need to get him to the hospital.”

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