“I love you.”
It was like watching a badly dubbed Japanese movie. Even if I hadn’t noticed this one glaring clue, the male standing in front of me didn’tfeellike Charick. My heart wasn’t beating right, and I didn’t feel the same sense of affection that normally emanated from his every pore. I didn’t feel the same, either. Deep in my soul, I knew…. This wasn’t Charick.
Oh God.
Muscular arms opened, inviting me to step into the safety of his embrace. Only I knew his touch no longer offered safety. It offered only heartbreak.
“Come to me, Willa.”
A few minutes ago, I wanted nothing more than to feel his arms around me. Now… the idea of touching him made me cringe. This wasn’t Charick. I knew that to my bones. And if this wasn’t Charick, it meant only one thing.
This was the Zarpazian… and Charick was dead.
Fury overshadowed heartbreak as I faced the male I knew killed my mate.
“Of course.” It took no effort to force a smile to my lips. I never got the chance to face the enemy soldiers who shot my husband in the back. Nor had I been able to seek revenge on the insurgents who shot down the helicopter carrying my son to freedom. This time, though... I would exact revenge on the creature who stole Charick from me. Stole him before I truly experienced the joy of being with him.
I would never again enjoy the feel Charick’s touch or kiss. But this—what came next—I would enjoy… a lot.
I opened my arms, stepping around the table. Charick—or whoever this bastard actually was—smirked.
Hesmirked.
When I stepped closer, he reached for me. I stilled, and the universe stilled with me. I didn’t even breath until a second before fake Charick reached for me, his fingertips only a breath away.
Just before his hand made contact with my flesh, I darted right, snatching the blade from the tabletop and driving it into his chest.
Golden eyes went wide, and fake Charick laid his head back, issuing a scream that belonged to one of those YouTube videos about cryptids. His hands went to where mine pressed against the hilt of the blade, his touch feeling like the pour of boiling water over my skin.
I screamed, more with anger than pain, and twisted the blade.
Fake Charick jerked away, stumbling a few steps before going to his knees. Garbling high-pitched moans issued from his mouth. Writhing and shaking he fell to the floor as the creature shifted, the tan pelt morphing into black scales, muscles spasming and shrinking.
Bellowing out every ounce of heartbreak and fury residing in my soul, I snatched the blade from the creature’s chest and brought it down hard across his throat. One last gurgle and the Zarpazian went silent. Sticky black blood sprayed upward, coating my hands and arms. I wore the ichor like a badge of honor, sinking to my knees beside my kill while the aftereffects of adrenaline shivered over my skin.
The door slammed open, and Adtovar burst into the room, his eyes going wide as he took in the nearly headless alien lying in the middle of the floor.
“Willa!” He snatched me into his arms, hands running over my body. “Are you hurt?”
I managed to shake my head. “Charick… he was Charick.” Hot tears drenched my cheeks, but I made no attempt to stop them.
Adtovar shut the door, pulled a chair against the doorframe, and sat me down. He disappeared into the bathroom, emerging a moment later with a damp cloth, with which he bathed my hands, arms, and face free of the proof of my kill.
“Charick.” It was the only thing I said, the only word repeating in my brain and heart.
Adtovar took my face between his hands, thumbs swiping ineffectively at the torrent of tears. “Trust me. It will be okay, but you need to be quiet.”
It was an easy acquiescence. I didn’t want to speak. All I wanted to do was cry.
Adtovar jerked the blanket from the bed, wrapping it around the Zarpazian before stashing the body in the bathroom. When he held out his hand, I rose without a word and followed silently as he led me across the shadowed cobblestones toward one of the larger abodes.The door creaked loudly, offering entry into a gray stone dwelling almost twice the size of mine. Chairs littered the room, along with two tables and a blazing fireplace. I started to ask Adtovar where he’d taken me when Zahavi emerged from one of the two inner doorways.
“Is he?” Adtovar’s hand settled on my shoulder, and I felt him tremble.
“Alive. For now.” Zahavi sighed, jerking his chin toward the room he’d exited.
Alive?
“Charick?”
