The monster—the Knight, as those brats called him—looms at the garden entrance, those burning blue eyes locked on me with single-minded murder. He's even more terrifying up close, all that augmented mass and ferocity focused entirely on separating my head from my shoulders.
His intentions are clear enough without words.
One predator knows another.
My blood suddenly turns to ice. I'd seen him at the table, dismissed him as just another freak wastelander following her around like a lost puppy.
But those eyes, that specific shade of burning blue, the gauntlet of curved metal claws, the severe scarring visible around the edges and eye holes of his impassive silver mask...
The monster from Cosima's nightmares is real.
The Knight takes a step forward, a growl building in his chest that sounds like grinding metal.
My vision flickers like it's glitching out.
"Yes, it's him," Cosima hisses from my shoulder as if she can read my mind. "Don't you fucking dare put me down unless you want him to turn you into soup."
I ignore her, setting her on her feet and stepping forward to meet the monster's charge. No way I'm fighting with her in the line of fire.
"Don't kill him," Cosima warns, and I'm not sure who she's talking to.
He hits like a literal freight train.
The impact drives all the air from my lungs as we crash into the fountain, marble cracking under the force. Water explodes around us, turning the garden into a sodden battlefield. His metal arm swings for my head with enough force to turn it into paste and I barely manage to roll aside.
The other alphas Cosima is traveling with rush to surround her, the big one with the eye patch actually picking her up when she tries to rush forward.
"Knight, no!" she screams, fighting against the alpha's grip.
The white-haired one—Vlakov—watches with obvious amusement. "Hey, he's hungry. I say we kill two birds with one stone and let him eat your shithead ex."
Ex?
Who the fuck is this insolent bastard to her?
I don't have time to process it. Knight's already coming for me again. I manage to duck under his swing, using his momentum against him to stagger him.
But he's not just big. He's fast, adaptable, fuckingsmartbeneath all that rage.
A backhand from his metal claws catches me across the jaw, sending me spinning. Blood fills my mouth as I reach for my gun, survival instinct overriding everything else.
"If you shoot him, I'll never forgive you!"
Cosima's yell freezes me mid-draw.
I look at her and see genuine fear in her eyes. Not for herself. Forhim.
For the monster that's trying to tear me apart.
"You'reworriedabout him?" The words come out as a snarl as I barely dodge a strike that cracks the stone where my head was a second ago.
She's with them willingly.
The realization lands like a knife between the ribs. My first instinct is to dismiss it as Stockholm syndrome, trauma bonding, whatever the fuck these degenerates did to break her down.
But no. I know Cosima. I've seen her perform compliance while plotting murder behind her eyes.
This isn't that. The way she's positioned in front of Knight rather than behind him… she's not their captive playing along.
