Lorenth stands at the edge of the crowd, wings spread wide and eyes blazing with an fury I've never seen before. Not even when he confronted Darian the first time. This is different. This is the controlled violence of a weapon finally unleashed.
Magic crackles in the air around him, visible as pale blue lightning that dances across his wings and fingertips. The temperature drops ten degrees. The crowd scatters, stumbling over themselves to get away from the sheerragerolling off him in waves.
Darian's grip on my hair falters. Just for a second. Just long enough for Lorenth to close the distance between them.
He doesn't run. Doesn't fly. Just stalks forward with the measured precision of a predator who knows his prey has nowhere to go.
"I said," Lorenth's hand shoots out, catching Darian by the throat and lifting him clean off the ground, "touch her one more time. Idareyou."
Darian claws at Lorenth's grip, feet kicking uselessly. "She's my?—"
"Wife?" Lorenth's smile is all teeth. No warmth. Just promise of violence. "Property?" He slams Darian into the ground hard enough to crack stone. "Mine to do with as I please?"
Each word is punctuated with another impact. Darian's back hits the packed earth over and over, his protests devolving into choked gasps.
Lorenth's eyes find mine. Storm-blue and ringed with gold and asking a silent question.
I think of every bruise. Every broken bone. Every night spent wondering if this would be the time Darian killed me. Every moment of fear and pain and desperate hopelessness.
I nod.
It's tiny. Barely perceptible. But Lorenth sees it.
And then he lets go completely.
The magic that's been crackling around him explodes outward. Not wild. Not uncontrolled. This is deliberate. Precise. The kind of violence that comes from centuries of discipline turned toward a single purpose.
Darian tries to scramble away but Lorenth pins him with one boot to the chest. The sickening crunch of ribs breaking echoes across the silent square.
"You like beating things weaker than you?" Lorenth crouches, one hand still wreathed in that pale lightning. "Let's see how you handle someone who can fight back."
He drives his fist into Darian's face. Once. Twice. The third time, something gives with a wet crack. Blood sprays across the dirt, dark and viscous.
Darian gurgles, trying to speak, but Lorenth doesn't stop. Doesn't slow. Each blow is calculated for maximum damage—shattering bone, pulping flesh, turning my husband's cruel face into something unrecognizable.
"You choked her." Lorenth's hand closes around Darian's throat, lightning arcing from his palm into skin. The smell of burning flesh fills the air. "So I'll crush yours."
Darian's hands scrabble weakly at Lorenth's wrist. His face purples. Eyes bulge. Veins stand out like cords.
Lorenth squeezes tighter.
"You broke her ribs." He shifts his grip, dragging Darian upright only to slam him down again. Another sickening crack. "So I'll shatter every bone in your godsdamned body."
The magic intensifies, crawling over Darian's torso like living things. Wherever it touches, bones snap. First the ribs. Then the collarbone. Shoulders. Arms. Each break accompanied by Darian's increasingly desperate attempts to scream past his crushed windpipe.
"You tied her up." Lorenth grabs Darian's wrist, twisting until the joint dislocates with a pop. Then the other. "Made her helpless."
He works methodically down both arms, breaking every finger, every knuckle, every joint. Darian convulses, mouth opening and closing like a fish drowning in air.
"You made her kneel." Lorenth moves to Darian's legs, that terrible precision never wavering. "So you'll never stand again."
The knees go first. Then ankles. The small bones of the feet. Each one crushed beneath Lorenth's boot or magic or bare hands. Darian's screams have devolved into wet rattling sounds, blood bubbling from his lips.
The crowd hasn't moved. Can't move. They're frozen by the same magic that fills the air, thick enough to choke on.
"And you made herbleed." Lorenth straightens, looking down at the broken thing that used to be my husband. "So I'll paint this entire godsdamned square with yours."
His hand plunges into Darian's chest.
