His eyes went wide.
His lips moved, but it was too late for prayers.
I twisted the blade.
His body spasmed like a puppet cut from its strings.
Then I yanked it free.
He crumpled.
Blood spreading.
Limbs twitching.
I dropped the knife. It fell to the floor. Then, I wiped my hands on my pants and looked at my Eyes. “What happened?”
Itsuki spoke first, “Over fifty men took over the building. We killed pretty much everyone.”
“Who told them the location?”
Arata sighed. “Reo is working on that now.”
I stepped over the dead man and headed off.
My Eyes followed.
Outside of the building, a fresh round of gunfire boomed through the air like thunder splitting the block open. Sharp and merciless. The windows rattled. Glass trembled in their frames. Somewhere below, something heavy crashed hard against the building.
The fight hadn’t died down.
It was escalating.
I could hear it in the rhythm of the shots—tight groupings, return fire, someone screaming.
They were pushing inward from every angle. Vehicles probably had rammed the back alley gates. The perimeter would be splintering.
We’re probably surrounded. Damn it.
Terror surged through me.
I wasn’t worried for myself. Let them come. Let them stack bodies at my feet until the hallways clogged with the dead. I would kill until the barrels melted, until my fists split open and the bones in my hands showed.
But Nyomi?
My Tiger.
For a breath, I saw her again. The way she’d looked up at me several minutes ago—flushed, laughing, her voice still hoarse from moaning my name. The air around her had been peace.
And now that peace was dead, gutted on this floor.
I could keep her safe—of that, I had no doubt. But I couldn’t stop her from knowing.
From seeing.
From realizing the dragon she’d tamed had never lived in a castle but a kingdom of corpses.
She was near, her body still trembling from the way I’d worshipped it, and I hated that this was what would follow our amazing night—the sound of war erupting.
