I cross the distance to the second man in two steps and end it before he can recover—fast, efficient, final enough that he doesn’t get a second chance.
Then I turn back.
Cole’s trying to crawl, dragging himself across the concrete. He still believes there’s a way out of this.
There isn’t.
I catch him by the back of his jacket and haul him up just enough to slam him back down again, harder this time, the impact knocking what little breath he has left out of him.
He chokes on it, body folding in on itself.
“You think this fixes anything?” he manages.
I crouch over him, grip tightening in his collar, keeping him exactly where I want him.
“No,” I say.
And then I hit him again.
For her. For the alley. For the way she was taken. For the fact that he thought he could.
Each strike lands with purpose. The kind of violence that doesn’t spiral, it decides, and this time, when I stop, it’s not because I ran out of reasons.
It’s because I feel it… that edge.
The one that doesn’t come back from this.
One more hit, and this stops being control. Stops being about her.
Starts being something else.
So I choose to stop.
He’s still conscious.
Barely.
Bloodied, breathing wrong, no fight left in him that matters.
The room feels different now, like the outcome has already been decided and everything left is just the aftermath.
Behind me, Zane again. “She’s free.”
That’s what pulls me back.
My focus shifts without hesitation.
Not the fight. Not him.Her.
I release my grip and let him drop fully to the floor.
I’m done.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Aurora
The first thingI feel is the shaking.
