"She's my daughter—" he chokes out.
I squeeze harder. "Not anymore, she’s not."
His face is turning red. He's trying to break my grip, but he can't. He's soft. Pampered. He might be connected, might have power in his world, but here—right now—he's nothing.
And I know exactly how to kill him.
"Lupo." Isabella's hand on my arm. "Not here. Elena's in the house. She could wake up. She could see. Don’t scare her."
The words penetrate the red haze. Elena. Sweet, innocent Elena who gave me my name and asks me to make eggs.
I can't kill her father in front of her. I release Draco's throat but grab his arm, twisting it behind his back in a move that's pure muscle memory. He cries out, and I clamp my other hand over his mouth.
"The barn," I say to Isabella. "Keep Elena inside. Lock the doors. Don't come out until I tell you."
Her eyes are wide, frightened. But not of me. For me, maybe. Or for what I'm about to do.
"Lupo, if you kill him—"
"I know." I meet her gaze. "Lock the doors."
She hesitates for just a moment, then nods and runs toward Elena's room.
I drag Draco out of the house. He's fighting now, trying to break free, but it's useless. I'm stronger, faster, and I know exactly how to control him.
Where did I learn this?
The barn is cool and dark. I shove Draco inside and he stumbles, catching himself on the workbench. He turns to face me, and I see him trying to regain his composure.
"You're making a mistake," he says, rubbing his throat. "Do you have any idea who I am? Who I'm connected to?"
"No, I don't care."
"You should." He straightens his jacket. "I have people. Lawyers. Judges. Police on my payroll. You lay a hand on me, and you'll spend the rest of your life in prison."
"That assumes anyone will find your body."
The words come out flat. Factual. And I see the moment he realizes I'm serious.
He lunges for the door. I catch him easily, spinning him around and driving my fist into his stomach. He doubles over, gasping. I grab his hair, forcing his head up to look at me.
"You came here to take them," I say. "To take Isabella and Elena back to your world. To hurt them. Control them. Break their bones."
"She's my—" he wheezes. "My family—"
"No." I hit him again. "She's my family. They both are. And you're never going to touch them again."
I'm not thinking anymore. Just acting on instinct. On the absolute certainty that this man has to die today.
My hands know what to do.
I drive him to the ground. He's trying to fight back, but it doesn't matter. Nothing matters except ending the threat to Isabella and Elena. He can’t be allowed to live because he’ll keep coming after them.
I'm on top of him, my hands around his throat. This time I don't stop.
Draco's eyes bulge. His face turns purple. He claws at my hands, at my face, drawing blood. But I don't let go.
And as I do, memories flood through me. Vivid, terrible.
