“You fucking little bitch!” he roars in agony. He flips me over so easily I almost go tumbling off him altogether.
Before I can, he pins me to the cold marble. His arm flies out, his blow connecting with my cheek. I’m backhanded in a burst of smarting pain.
My vision shakes like my whole world has been sent spinning.
A little harder and he’d probably have knocked me out cold.
I draw a breath and then taste blood.
“Stupid girl,” he snarls, grappling for the gun that’s skittered a few feet away. “I’ll teach you a fucking lesson. You thought you were going to get the best of me?”
His fingers close around the grip. He’s going to kill me. He’s going to put a bullet in my brain and then finish off Caelian, and everything we’ve fought for, everything we’ve survived, will end in this golden hallway…
But then a boot comes down hard on Nero’s hand.
Hard.
A stomp that makes Nero wail in immediate pain.
The sound is like music at a time where all hope feels lost.
I look up to see Caelian standing over us. He’s sickly pale, blood soaking through his shirt and dripping onto the marble, but he’s standing. His gray eyes are pure fury, pure vengeance, purelove.
“You should have made sure I was dead,” he growls.
He crushes down harder with his boot, making Nero scream in more agony.
Then Caelian’s other foot swings up and connects with Nero’s face in a devastating kick. Blood explodes from the mob boss’s nose, his head snapping back with the force of it.
Caelian bends with a grunt to scoop up the gun. He points it directly at Nero’s face as the man lays back with blood streaming from his broken nose, his hand swollen and crushed.
“This is for all the fucking pain you’ve caused me,” Caelian says. “For the poison you put in my veins. For the years you stole from me.” He cocks the hammer. “And this is forher. For every second of fear and suffering you’ve put her through.”
The gunshot reverberates through the golden marble hallway like thunder, like justice, like the ending of an empire built on blood and suffering.
Nero’s whole body jerks as he takes the bullet to the head, then he falls still.
For good.
Caelian sways on his feet, the gun dropping from his fingers and clattering to the ground. I scramble up and half-catch him as he falls, both of us crashing to the floor in a heap of limbs.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper, cradling his face in my shaking hands. “I’ve got you, Cael. Stay with me.”
His eyes find mine and he smiles. Despite how pale he’s become and how ragged his breaths are, he gazes up at me and smiles like he’s never been happier.
We’ve been reunited, and that’s all he wanted.
“Always knew you were a fighter,” he murmurs, his hand coming up to touch my cheek. “My beautiful fierce ballerina. Mia bella feroce ballerina.”
Then his eyes close and he goes still.
TWENTY-NINE
Caelian
Pain.
That’s the first thing I’m aware of. Not sight, not sound—just pure, white-hot agony radiating from my chest like someone’s shoved a burning coal between my ribs and twisted it deeper with every struggling breath.
