Something close to guilt.
He tapped the band on his ring finger.
No.
My breath caught in my throat.
Emily.
The realization slammed into me with the force of a war hammer.
Emily was Balthazar’s daughter.
Marcellious gave the faintest nod, confirming my worst fears.
Then, with a roar of unrestrained rage, he charged.
Like a bull, he barreled toward Balthazar, murder in his eyes.
I moved on instinct.
I lunged, grabbing him, wrenching his arms behind his back before he could reach him.
“Stop!” I shouted, straining against his thrashing. “He’ll kill you!”
Marcellious fought like a madman, his muscles bulging as he struggled against my grip. His chest heaved, his face twisted with fury.
“I’ll kill him,” he seethed.
Spittle flew from his lips as he snarled, the tendons in his neck standing out like thick cords.
Balthazar only smiled—an indulgent smile.
Costa’s men surged forward at the sight of the chaos—hands gripping weapons, eyes alight with anticipation.
But before they could act, Costa lifted a hand, sweeping it through the air in a decisive motion.
“If you want to fight us, prepare to be poisoned,” Costa sneered. “I carry it with me at all times. And the one I have right now?” He slid a hand inside his coat pocket and retrieved a small vial, holding it up like a ticking bomb. The liquid inside glowed faintly under the dim tavern light.
“This is the most potent poison I’ve ever created.” His lips curled into a wicked grin. “I know you’re searching for the Moon Dagger. I might consider sparing you from this”—he tilted the vial betweenhis fingers—“if you tell me where your and Marcellious’ wives are. I want all of you. There is no negotiation.”
A surge of fury gripped my throat. “I will never betray my wife,” I spat.
Costa sighed dramatically. “Then you’ll all die, one way or another.” He twirled the vial, letting it dangle precariously from his fingertips. “Do you think I fear Balthazar? He and his pitiful son are weak. Pathetic.”
Balthazar’s eyes blazed red.
“Who are you calling pathetic?” he growled, waves of scorching heat radiating from his body.
For the first time, I saw something I never expected—Costa and Balthazar standing together, not trying to kill each other.
The last time I’d seen them in the same place, Balthazar had burned Costa’s villa to the ground and slaughtered half the people inside.
So why the hell weren’t they enemies?
Why was Balthazar standing by instead of ripping Costa apart?
Something wasn’t right.
