Page 83 of Sold to the Nalgar
Cecilia lay frozen in the grass, blood slick on her side, chest heaving. Her skin stung, her muscles screamed. But her eyes never left him.
Zarokh stood among the carnage, breathing hard, bare-chested, spattered in gore. His eyes were bright, wild. A beast,hers.
And he was beautiful.
Terrible.
Unstoppable.
He turned to her slowly, a snarl still lingering on his lips. But his gaze softened when it met hers.
He came to her side and crouched, one hand brushing her blood-matted hair from her face.
“I told you,” he said, voice low, quiet with rage, “the wilds are not for you.”
She blinked at him. “You followed me.”
“I always will.”
His hand touched the bite on her arm. Gentle. Reverent. “This body of yours—it heals quickly. But you are not invincible. Not yet.”
She wanted to laugh. Or cry. Or scream. But all she could do was whisper, “You killed them all.”
He looked out at the mess. “Yes.”
A pause.
“Good.”
CHAPTER 41
The smoke hit him first: sharp, acidic, chemical—wrong. Then came the screams.
Zarokh halted at the edge of the rocky overlook, Cecilia at his side.
By the gods, she was beautiful. He counted himself fortunate over and over again. Her hair clung damp to her neck, her pupils wide from the wild, desperate flight through the forest. But the breathless amusement on her face—leftover from her reckless escape—vanished the instant she followed his gaze.
Below them, his city burned.
The blackstone walls were shattered. The gates—hisgates—hung open like broken jaws. Towers toppled and crumbled, spilling fire into the veins of the streets. Ships cut low through the blood-red sky, metal hulls flashing, weapons roaring. His fortress—the once-impenetrable heart of his rule—was being gutted beneath the twin suns.
Zarokh’s jaw locked, muscles tight enough to crack bone.
This wasn’t a siege. This was betrayal. Someone had opened the gates. Let them in. There was no way Vuvak could have stormed his stronghold so easily, so quickly.
Instantly, he knew who’d done this.
Only one possessed the intimate knowledge to do all of this.
He’d sensed it and chosen to ignore it.
And his enemy was right: he’d been preoccupied withher.
FuckingVelkar.
The name slammed into him like a blade. His second. Histrustedhand.
And now? His traitor.
