Page 130 of Thunder's Reckoning
Real. Alive.
He strode through the chaos like he owned it, boots crunching on glass, firelight licking across his cut, pistol firm in his grip, fury carved into every line of his face.
My chest locked tight. My throat closed. The word broke from me, more breath than sound, more prayer than name.
“Zeke…”
Gabrial turned—slow, deliberate, like none of this chaos mattered, like the man who had just shattered his sanctuary was nothing more than a shadow trespassing on holy ground.
“You don’t belong here,” he said, his face filled with rage.
“I do now,” Zeke answered, the promise of death threaded through every syllable.
Then the world spun.
Gabrial’s hand clamped down on me, yanking me upright with a violence that stole my breath. His arm locked across my chest, his fingers twisted in my hair until my scalp screamed, and a curved ceremonial blade pressed hard against my throat.
Zeke froze.
So did everyone else.
The fire behind me crackled higher, greedy, as though it wanted to taste my skin.
“Let her go,” Zeke said. His voice didn’t rise. Didn’t shake. Just gravel and death, leveled straight at Gabrial’s heart.
“She’s mine,” Gabrial hissed, breath hot and furious against my ear. “I won’t let her carry your stain into the world. I’ll kill her first.”
The blade bit deeper, just enough for a ribbon of blood to slide hot down my collarbone.
I didn’t cry out. I couldn’t. My eyes locked to Zeke’s, clinging to him, carving him into my bones. If this was it—if this was the end—I wanted him to be the last thing I saw.
“Put the gun down,” Gabrial commanded. “Or I open her from throat to gut.”
Zeke didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. “Then we both die,” he said, quiet and certain, like he meant every word.
Heat licked higher, searing the air, and for the first time, Gabrial faltered. His control, the thing he worshiped above all else, slipped.
Zeke’s voice cut the silence again, sharp enough to draw blood. “You think she’s yours? She never was. You kill her, it won’t make you a god. It’ll just prove you ain’t man enough to keep what you claim.”
That landed. Gabrial stiffened, rage and doubt warring in his eyes. He jerked his gaze toward the pews, searching for his guards.
But there was no one.
The congregation didn’t move, stunned into silence. His most loyal men, those who should’ve been at his back were gone. Taken down. Or drugged, judging by the two sleeping guards at the rear door.”
I felt his grip falter, just slightly, as the realization crept in: he was alone.
Zeke’s voice cut through the silence like a blade. “You think she’s yours? She never was. You kill her, it don’t make you a prophet. It just makes you a coward.
Rage flared in Gabrial’s eyes, but then his gaze jerked to the side.
Chain stood in the doorway, rifle raised, jaw locked. And just behind him—Ash.
Gabrial’s face twisted with rage. His grip on me faltered, just for a beat. “You…” His voice boomed. His eyes widened, seeingthe silver hair, the jaw he knew too well. Recognition. Betrayal. “You dare stand with them?”
Ash’s voice was steel. “I dare.”
The congregation rippled with confusion. Whispers hissed through the chamber, devotion fraying into doubt.
