Page 111 of Zayrik

Each one a step closer to her.

Each death a promise of what was coming.

Fast. Brutal. Unstoppable.

Like vengeance given form.

Like rage made flesh.

Vask’s men weren’t soldiers.

Not warriors.

Just cowards in armor.

Prey standing between a predator and his mate.

And they were not ready for me.

Not ready for the fury I felt from the moment her pain crashed through our bond.

I hit the final door—

Kicked it open so hard it ripped off the hinges—

The sound of metal tearing like the roar building in my chest.

Smoke spilled into the hall. Acrid. Burning. Carrying the scent of electric fire and blood. And in the middle of the room...

And that’s when I saw him.

Vask.

Standing over her. Like he had the right.

Like he didn’t know he was already dead.

His hand was curled around her throat.

Blood smeared across his knuckles.

Her blood.

My mate’s blood.

Her body limp beneath him. Too still. Too quiet. Like she wasn’t in it anymore, and that scared me more than the blood.

My vision tunneled.

Everything went red.

Vask turned, grinning like he still had control.

Like he thought this was his moment.

He couldn’t see death wearing my face.

“You’re too late, Protectorate.”

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