Whichello’s head turned toward him, those black eyes focusing with effort that looked painful. “He’s not worth saving, Isaac.”
“I know.” Isaac took a step forward, his feet crunching on broken glass. “But you’re not a monster, Whichello. Not to me.”
Whichello’s attention returned to Dimitri, whose face had gone completely white with frost. “It’s not an insult, it’s a fact. And monsters don’t show mercy to threats.”
Behind them, something heavy hit the floor. Isaac glanced back to see Marcus standing over two bodies that weren’t moving anymore. Blood pooled around them, dark and spreading across the hardwood. The enforcer’s knuckles dripped red, his expression savage.
Isaac turned back to Whichello and Dimitri. The ice had reached Dimitri’s eyes now, frost coating his eyelashes and creeping across his pupils. His struggles had stopped entirely, his body gone limp in Whichello’s grip.
“Is he dead?” Isaac asked.
“Not yet.” Whichello’s fingers tightened a fraction. “But close. Another few seconds and the ice will reach his brain. After that, there’s no coming back.”
The choice sat between them, unspoken but present. Whichello would listen if Isaac asked him to stop. Would pull back the frost and let Dimitri live. Probably. But that would mean Dimitri walking away, going free to try again later. To hurt someone else the way he’d tried to hurt Isaac.
The words that should’ve come out stayed lodged in Isaac’s throat. He wasn’t a killer. Had never wanted to be a killer, even after everything with his father. But looking at Dimitri, at the frost spreading across his features, Isaac couldn’t make himself care enough to intervene.
That probably said something terrible about him. About what living in survival mode for so long had done to his moral compass. But his silence felt like permission, like agreement written in the space where objections should’ve been.
Whichello’s hand flexed, and the frost surged forward. It happened fast, ice spreading through Dimitri’s skull in patterns Isaac could see through his skin. Crystalline branches racing through blood vessels and gray matter, freezing everything they touched.
Dimitri’s body went rigid, every muscle locking simultaneously. His eyes remained opened, frost-covered and staring at nothing. Then he shattered.
Not slowly. Not piece by piece. Just exploded into fragments so small they looked like snow, glittering particles that rained down across the floor in a cascade of what used to be a person. Whichello stood in the center of it, his hand still raised like he was holding a memory given form.
The silence that followed felt too loud. Isaac’s ears rang with it. Dimitri was gone. Not dead in the normal sense, not a body that could be buried or mourned. Just erased, reduced to frozen dust that would be swept into a trash can.
“Isaac.” Whichello’s voice broke through the ringing, and his eyes had returned to their normal gray. Still empty of regret, but at least human-looking again. “Are you hurt?”
The question felt absurd. Was he hurt? Physically, no. Dimitri hadn’t had time to do any real damage beyond grabbing his hair and throat. But hurt in other ways, in the ways that mattered and stuck around long after bruises faded? Yeah. Definitely.
“I’m fine.” Isaac cleared his throat. “Danny and Ash weren’t here. He lied about that part.”
“I know.” Whichello lowered his hand, frost still coating his skin up to his elbow. “I called Frothy Pine while we were waiting outside. Your friend is at that bar, safe.”
Relief flooded through Isaac so fast it made his knees weak. He sat down hard on the couch, no longer trusting his legs to keep him upright. Danny was safe. Ash was safe. They’d never been in danger, just used as bait to lure Isaac here.
And he’d fallen for it. Had walked right into Dimitri’s trap because the thought of Danny being hurt had overridden every survival instinct Isaac possessed.
“We need to leave.” Marcus spoke from across the room. “Neighbors might have heard the fight. Police could show up.”
“Let them.” Whichello moved toward Isaac, his boots crunching through what remained of Dimitri. “We’ll be gone before they arrive.”
He offered his hand to Isaac, palm up and waiting. Isaac stared at it for a long moment, at the frost still covering his skin. Slowly, he laid his hand in Whichello’s, choosing the demon, a life with him that he’d fought hard to hide from.
No more hiding.
No more running.
His place was beside Whichello, a monster who would freeze the world to keep him safe. Finally, Isaac felt like his feet had landed on something solid, something he could trust. Isaac had endured so much over his lifetime, and all he wanted was to be happy.
Whichello made him happy.
Chapter Ten
Four weeks later, Isaac laughed and tried to get away, but Whichello pulled his naked mate back under him. “No running little panda.” Pale skin glowed in the moonlight streaming through the windows, and Whichello couldn’t stop looking at every inch of his mate. Isaac’s laughter filled the room with warmth, bright and unguarded in a way that made something in Whichello’s rib cage ache.
“You’re insatiable,” Isaac managed between gasps, his hands pushing at Whichello’s shoulders, more play than resistance, like he was testing to see what Whichello would do.
