Page 205 of Mine Again
Silence.
I move to the balcony, slow but lethal, picking up the pistol I gave her from the bed on the way.
My every sense is sharpened to a point. My eyes sweep the space, every shadow, every angle. Nothing moves.
I turn, and my foot kicks something on the tiles. It rolls a few inches.
Near my feet lies a small metallic object.
A dart.
My blood runs cold. My pulse thunders.
I crouch, staring at it, unblinking, the truth clawing its way through me.
The world tilts, sound thinning, blood draining from me as if the floor itself has dropped away.
Isa is gone.
Taken.
A roar, more beast than man, rips from my chest, Isa’s name buried somewhere inside it.
Birds scatter from the roof, startled into flight by the eruption.
A fresh surge of adrenaline hits, white-hot, spiking through my body like a live wire. The high is back, but now it’s fury, not victory, burning me alive from the inside out.
My hands flex open and closed, fighting the urge to smash something, to kill someone.
Whoever touched her is still alive only because I haven’t found them yet.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Luca
The roar still burns in my throat. My chest heaves, lungs dragging in jagged breaths.
My hands won’t stop flexing open and closed, itching for a throat to crush, a body to break.
Bloodlust. Raw. Blinding.
It feels foreign, yet familiar, like a shadow I thought I’d escaped. My father’s shadow.
His world was built on blood and broken bones, not code. I never wanted to be him. But right now, I can taste the part of myself that could be.
All I want is Hale’s throat between my hands.
The thought is dangerous. Useless. If I stay in this state, I’ll destroy everything. A good strategy requires control.
I squeeze my eyes shut, drag in a long breath, and force it out between clenched teeth.
Once. Twice. Again, until the pounding in my veins sharpens instead of scattering.
Isa needs me.
I open my eyes and go to pull a burner phone out of one of my bags.Fury won’t find Isa. Focus will.
The screen glares to life under my fingertips. I punch in the command sequence I swore I’d never need.
