Not just blind rage or fury—Sin was of nature.
A right to a million wrongs. The danger of crimson eyes that we had read about—but it wasn’t something I needed to fear.
Sin reached Holden first. He tore him back before his fist collided with his stomach. The movement was so fast it felt unreal—one second Holden was lunging away, the next his spine bent at a grossly unnatural angle. The sound of tendons snapping echoed in my ears before I understood what I was hearing. Holden’s scream cut off as Sin’s hand closed around his throat.
He clawed at Sin, eyes bulging out of his head as he let out choked sounds, his boots scraping desperately against stone, and aura flaring wildly.
Sin’s fingers tightened, and I jumped at the wet, internal collapse—cartilage giving way as bone cracked like it was made of dry bark.
Holden’s body spasmed a few times before going still, then Sin flung him aside like trash. He hit the wall with a sickening crack, sliding down and leaving a thick red smear upon graffiti.
The others tried to run.
Wyatt made it three steps before Sin caught him by the back of the skull, pressing his head against the wall.
“Don’t—!” His hands flew up, the plea shaky as it escaped his mouth, but Sin’s palm pressed in. Slowly, this time. Deliberately.
Maybe I should be disgusted or scared, but I could feel his aura, and the way, in the bond, his instincts drove him as if these actions were a gift from nature.
I couldn’t drag my eyes away, and I didn’t want to.
Half of the pack was gone, but I watched as one stumbled over another, shoving him back as he tried to get out first.
Sin caught them easily.
Torn apart… necks snapped… until he was out of the cell, beyond my vision, and all I could hear were the violent sounds and screams.
It was over almost as quickly as it had begun, and he was back, his hands soaked with glistening blood.
He was here, but not here. My Sin, yet... something more than an omega.
I think it was at this moment that I could see the lies.
Every sermon, every prayer I'd been told to recite, every line I'd memorized—all falling away in the face of the truth I could see and touch for myself.
He was mine.
My protector.
Sin, my beautiful, crimson, angel of death.
I didn’t know how long passed, but amidst the sea of blood, he returned to me, stopping at what was left of Holden’s body first. He dug in crimson fabric for a second before pulling something out.
Then his hand brushed my cheek, and I melted against his touch. The pain of my heat returned in full force, and I whined as I reached up to cup his cheeks.
I'd never in my life felt more safe than I was here, in his arms.
He was mine—he'd keep me safe.
I knew it with more certainty than I ever had in my life.
He shifted one of my palms to press something into my hands. I looked at it through the strange halo of pain and heat that was settling over my already poor vision.
A silver key, smeared with blood.
I smiled weakly, clutching it and holding it against my chest.
“Let’s go and get them,” he told me.
