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With a menacing side-glance, the combustible rage—because that is what it was now, only rage and pure undiluted hatred—detonated inside his heart and soul.

His mind powers, that shield, weaponized and exploded in a city-leveling airwave from his body.

In the wave of his destruction, it forced her back on impact, stumbling away on stiletto, silver snaked-covered heels, and tearing into that perfect black dress. Garrik’s blackenedgaze seethed as he willed that weapon to fade away before it demolished a single tent—it was not meant for them—not yet.

Her lips curled in a wicked, playful grin as if she had trapped him in a scheme, wiping blood that dripped from her nose and mouth.

“What?” That serpentine grin twisted. “You didn’t miss me?” Arching her back, the female pressed the swell of her breasts toward him. Then she was close once more. A fingernail grazed his chin before its touch was too denied by a wave of his shield.

“You seem to forget what I am. Touch me again and you will find yourself missing your hands that you so dearly treasure.” Black Smokeshadows cascaded from Garrik’s body. Gritting his teeth, he thrust a smoky hand around the serpent’s neck.

And squeezed.

She let out an amused moan. “You do not scare me. Youknowthat.” And slid her inky fingers along his wrist. Her lips widened, a snake unhinging its jaw, exposing sharp teeth that her tongue lustfully slid across.

“Come now…”Her name. Someone spoke venom into the air. “You can have your fun with your whore later,” a smooth voice called from between the tent soldiers.

A lean-built High Fae with short, night-dark hair sauntered forward. Adorned in a dragon-scaled onyx coat, the back draped down behind him to his knees. With a jagged collar in the shape of dragon wing spikes that lifted to the back of his head, it perfectly hugged his figure. The male walked on knee-high boots, curved around his dark pants underneath. Needle-like spikes jutted from the coat’s shoulders and wrists, stained with blood.

Garrik’s attention snapped to the male. “The fuck did you call me?”

“You clearly heard me.”

“And you clearly do not wish to take the risk of saying it again to find yourself suddenly breathless.” Without blinking, Smokeshadows formed around the male’s throat.

“Mmm.” The female hummed, whipping her neck from Garrik’s hand before slithering away. “I do love when you two fight over me. Malik, sweet thing. Since when have you known me to give up an opportunity to enjoy my plaything?” Onyx eyes flirted, hips swaying as she paced between them slowly. With her back to them, she waved a dismissive hand. “I look forward to seeing my handy work again … and soon, Garrik.” Pacing on stilettos, and with a bite on her bottom lip, she grinned at Thalon across the firesite. “I’ve always wanted to corrupt one of your kind. Tell me. Are you a good fuck like the High Prince? I want to hear that pretty, marked throat scream.”

Thalon was a solid wall, unshakable—unbreakable—as he towered over her. He could snap her neck without breaking a sweat. They both could, but did not dare.

Not here. Not now. Not yet.

Garrik saw his world turn to darkness, but it was Thalon who thundered, “I’d rather lose every last one of my Earned than disgrace my Keep with the scum of you.” His face remained unshaken as his tongue burned with holy fire. “Dishonor our High Prince again and it will not be my throat the screams will be wailing from. I’ll send you to Firekeeper, where you belong.”

The serpent cocked her head. “Before you die and I take them all from your ripped open scalp and bloody braids, you will be begging me for a ride.” She outstretched a pointed nail to his tattooed chest. And before it could make contact, it snapped back on itself in an unnatural bend. Whorls of smoke and shadow seeped from the split skin.

Garrik’s fisted into her hair, wrenching her neck back on itself, so inked orbs stared into the death of his. His hand closed around her throat. Digging his boots hard into the dirt, he leanedin close. Icy breath, he knew, chilled her ear as he whispered loud enough for only her to hear, “I could tear you apart if I desired. Make no mistake, if youevertouch what is mine”—he tightened his hold on her hair with a jerk that snapped her neck back further—“I will rip your bones apart, one by one, before I strangle you by your insides.”

“Mmm? My pet is jeal—” Pleasing choked coughs escaped poisoned lips.

He squeezed tighter, still looking as if he would splinter the bones in her neck.

Silence roared. Everyone watched as Garrik’s skin paled and pointed teeth formed through his gritted mouth.

Their Savage, High Prince returned with sharp cheekbones and a glassy, obsidian, spiked crown covered in shadows, rising through his gray hair. Only for a breath, a warning to who they all knew he was. Of who lurked deep inside his soul and shadows.

Garrik.Thalon’s voice inside his head shook away the deathly intention.

The half-beast slowly faded back into a High Fae male with death still claiming his eyes.

“Get”—he growled so deep the dirt trembled—“out of my sight.” With a snap of his wrist, Garrik released her, stumbling forward on snake-adorned heels.

Each breath struggled for air as she gripped her throat. The female wickedly laughed before turning on her heels, “You’ll be mine again,” she promised and slithered across the firesite, disappearing between the purple tents.

He fought the urge to adjust his battle leathers, now unnaturally snug against his body, feeling the beast caging itself inside. How many times had he imagined his hands around her throat? His Smokeshadows penetrating her to the core until they sucked all the air from her lungs. He would revel in it.Enjoy every second of tearing the life from her flesh. From her wretched hands. Her body.

One day.

Malik grinned as he scanned Garrik up and down, then turned his attention to the High Prince’s Shadow Order, and smirked.