Page 107 of Zayrik

Shock rod.The word alone made my vision blur. I knew what those did. What they meant. Pain. Submission. Torture.

He’d dared—

I didn’t wait for the order.

I ran.

Each step driven by fury and fear and the weakening pulse of our bond.

My boots pounded down the corridor, heart slamming in my chest.

The tether between us fraying.

No. No. No.

The screams had stopped.

That was worse.

So much worse.

Because through our bond, I felt the moment she slipped away.

32

Nyla

VASK EXHALED, TAPPINGthe rod against his palm.

Waiting. Watching.

Like a predator savoring the moment before the kill.

Each tap echoing through my battered body.

He thought I’d break.

Thought I’d beg.

He had no idea why I was fighting.

Or who I was willing to bleed for.

I gritted my teeth, lifted my chin.

Through our bond, I felt Zayrik’s presence. Distant but burning bright. Coming closer.

And I spat blood onto Vask’s boots.

A final act of defiance.

A message in red.

It was quiet.

Like the moment before an explosion.

Vask stared down at the red splatter against the polished leather.

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