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“Our paths were destined to cross,” I say. “In every life our souls have worn, they found their way back to each other. And we will keep finding each other for the rest of eternity.”

She flashes that beautiful smile and rises onto her tiptoes to kiss me.

Patrick spits out a laugh. “This is who you want to lead you?” he says to the room. “A poet with his head in the clouds?”

I get lost in Zaiya’s eyes while he rambles on, making himself look like more of a fool with every word. Her touch, her kiss, and that look on her angelic face tell me everything is exactly as it should be.

Patrick keeps talking. So I give him a reason to shut up.

I turn abruptly and plunge the knife into his thigh, hard enough to stop his voice mid-sentence. His scream tears through the chamber, echoing off the stone and climbing all the way up.

I pull the blade free, then slice his pant leg open to expose the Serpentium Order brand beneath. The serpent and the hourglass. The mark he wore as a symbol of loyalty.

Marcus comes forward, and when he does, the room shifts again.

He’s holding a small blowtorch.

At last, Patrick shows fear.

“No,” he rasps, pulling uselessly against the restraints. “No, no, no.”

“Our symbol doesn’t belong on you anymore,” I say.

Marcus passes me the torch.

I turn it on. The flame is a tight blue tongue.

Patrick thrashes against the restraints, his breathing turning ragged. When fire meets skin, his scream changes. It becomes raw. Panicked. Stripped of arrogance. The disgusting scent of melting flesh rises fast, and a few men on the balcony recoil.

Zaiya doesn’t.

His skin bubbles and oozes. It absolutely reeks, but I don’t stop until our sacred symbol is gone.

When I finish, Patrick’s head hangs forward, tears streaming down his face as he tries to catch his breath.

There. Much better.

I grab his hair to lift his head again, forcing him to look at Zaiya. She’s the judge to my executioner, unfazed by what she’s witnessing. Not cruel for the sake of it. My angel is far more terrifying than that. She’s calm because she understands what he earned, and she recognizes that mercy has no place here.

“Know that the greatest mistake you ever made was thinking she was someone you could own.”

Patrick’s lips tremble. He looks around the chamber again, searching for an exit that doesn’t exist.

Liam steps forward, holding a small box. Inside is a syringe filled with a thin yellow liquid.

Venom from a king cobra.

When I take it, responsibility settles over me. The Order. My family. And above all else, Zaiya. All mine to protect.

I pull the cap off and hold it up for all to see.

“There will be no more disloyalty to the Serpentium Order. Betrayal will be answered with death.”

I press the needle into Patrick’s chest. The venom slips into his bloodstream.

Breath catches in his lungs as if his body can’t decide what to do. He jerks once in reflex, fingers twitching against the arms of the chair. Then his eyes go wide as paralysis takes hold. It must be quite a shock to have no control over yourself.

There’s a stutter in his chest. A breath that doesn’t come back.