Page 21

CHAPTER 21

The sirens weren’t as loud in the exercise yard, and the panic happening inside the prison seemed like a whole other world away. The night air was still, stars twinkling beyond the chain-link cage we were all trapped in. Across the dusty yard, Syros tried to pull apart the warded metal links, and was gradually making a hole that would soon be large enough for him to squeeze through.

He couldn’t shift, not yet, but he was strong.

We weren’t the only ones closing in on my brother, though.

Jenny emerged from another side door.

“Oh, hell no,” Zee breathed.

“It's okay, she’s on our side... I think.”

“You know, Syros.” Jenny raised her voice, crossing the yard toward my brother, several strides in front of us. “This is literally your villain origin story backfiring.”

Syros turned to see us all bearing down on him. “You guys do know I’m a dragon, right? Anything you do to me, I’ll just heal and hit back harder.”

Zee kept on heading forward too. “Yeah, we know. But it’ll feel good while we beat the crap out of you.”

“I had mad time to think after Adam tried to make me play nice at Whiteacre,” Jenny continued in her confusing Gen Z slang. “Just vibing with my thoughts, wondering if I was being toxic as fuck, and not gonna lie, I was givin’ major red-flag energy. The thing is, you can’t force someone to stan you, can’t make them simp for you, and I learned, it’s not their fault that you’re living in your flop era?—”

“I don’t want people to like me ,” Syros laughed. “They will worship me.”

Zee rolled his eyes. “Bro, you need a shit-ton of therapy. Do dragons have therapists?” he asked me.

“No, we mostly eat all our problems.”

The three of us stopped a few strides from Syros, and the buckled fence was at his back, close to being mangled enough for him to squeeze through. A few more tugs would probably snap the links. But he continued to glare at us. “There’s only one way this ends, and that’s with all of you dead at my feet.”

Zee snorted a laugh. “Does Mr Grumpy Dragon want belly rubs?”

“You said you’d gift me the hotel if I worked for you,” Jenny said. “But when I was there, as Adam, you missed all his main character energy. The people who work there? They’re all literally ride or dies. They went so hard, planning to bring everyone here who’s also in their squad. They chose to help Adam, and Zee, even the old vampire too—who nobody much likes btw—and I’m so living for that energy. I agreed when you came looking for their enemies, because I was low-key throwing shade at all of them, but the plot twist? Seeing through Adam's point of view, who they actually are? That kind of found family core memory can’t be gatekept, it’s just high-key authentic. And I stopped with the hate vibe, straight up. Syros, bro, you got it all wrong.”

“So you had a learning moment.” Syros sneered. “Do I look as though I care?”

“Hey,” Zee snapped. “This is Gen Z’s redemption arc. Have some respect for her character development.”

“That hotel is special,” Jenny said. “It’s people are low-key special, and I kinda wanna be like them, and not fight against them. Y’know, it’s better with your besties, than without.”

The smirk that crawled across Syros’s face was definitely not a good sign.

“I’m welling up.” Zee sniffed. “So fuckin’ proud of you, girl.”

“You ain’t my vibe.” Jenny lunged, fists up.

Syros sidestepped with surprising grace, pivoting to face her. “I only understood a fraction of what you just said, and I see now why my brother threw you off a cliff.”

“I choose them!” Jenny jabbed quickly, landing a blow to his sternum that made him grunt. “The found family worth fighting for!”

Syros’s eyes darkened. “Then you’ll die with them.”

He moved with a speed that belied his size, grabbing her wrist mid-punch and twisting sharply. Jenny cried out but twisted her body to follow the motion, breaking free with a practiced move.

“Whoa, Gen Z’s got moves,” Zee murmured beside me, his wings flaring brighter.

Jenny and Syros circled each other, the prison yard’s harsh lights casting their long shadows across the dusty ground. For a moment, I thought Jenny might actually stand a chance. She’d survived our run-in. She was resilient, resourceful, a bit crazy, but who wasn’t?

“Should we help her?” I whispered to Zee, but he shook his head.

“She wants this, Kitten. It’s her redemption arc.”

Syros feinted left, then drove forward with his right shoulder, slamming into Jenny’s middle. She staggered back but recovered fast, and threw a quick one-two punch that caught him across the jaw. Syros barely flinched.

“You fight like injured prey,” he spat, grin growing.

“Better than fighting like a basic villain,” Jenny shot back, circling again.

I edged closer, ready to join the fight, but Jenny caught my movement. “Stay back, Adam! This is between me and this bag of dicks.”

Syros laughed—a sound like rocks tumbling down a hillside—the sound of his true self trying to break through. “You really think you can take me? I’ve killed things ten times your size.”

“Maybe,” Jenny said. “But I bet you’ve never gone viral. That shit takes mad skills.”

“I have no idea what you’re say?—”

She drove forward in a blur of motion, landing three quick strikes to Syros’s throat. He stumbled—actually stumbled—and I felt a surge of hope. If she could knock him back, then we definitely stood a chance.

It didn’t last.

Syros recovered, eyes flashing with cold fury. He roared—not a dragon’s roar, but something close enough to make the hairs on my arms stand on end. His hand shot out, impossibly fast, snatching Jenny by the throat.

“No!” I shouted, lunging forward.

But it was too late.

With a single, efficient twist of his wrist, a crack echoed across the prison yard like a gunshot.

Time seemed to slow. Jenny’s body went limp, her eyes wide with surprise but already empty. Syros held her suspended for a moment, his face twisted in disgust, then softening to mild annoyance.

“Stupid girl,” he muttered, and hurled her lifeless body at the fence.

The buckled and bent section of chain-link snapped and her body tore through it, landing in a crumpled heap on the other side. The fence gaped open now, the hole easily large enough for Syros to climb through.

“Jenny!” I rushed forward.

Zee grabbed my arm. “She’s gone, Kitten.”

Syros turned to us, lips curled in a vicious sneer. “I’m enjoying this. Who else wants to dance?”

Jenny and I hadn’t been friends, but I understood her. She’d made a huge step in getting here, and sacrificed it all in the end. Rage boiled up inside me, hot and familiar. I tried to call on my dragon self, but the wards held firm.

“You son of a frog,” Zee snarled beside me, purple light pulsing from his wings. His eyes locked onto Syros with murderous intent. “Let’s see how you handle death by orgasm!”

He snapped his fingers, the sound cracking across the yard.

Nothing happened.

Zee’s confident expression faltered. He snapped again, then again, each motion growing more frantic.

“Performance issues?” Syros taunted.

Zee’s wings dimmed slightly. “The fuck? I should be juiced for days...”

“The wards... It’s worn off fast,” I realized aloud.

“Well, fuck,” Zee muttered, then rippled his clawed fingers and raised his fists. “Guess we do this the demon way.”

He launched at Syros, catching my brother off guard. Zee landed a solid punch to Syros’s jaw, followed by a knee to his stomach. Syros doubled over, more in surprise than pain.

“How’s that feel, lizard balls?” Zee taunted, dancing back. “You want some more demon coming at you?”

Syros straightened slowly, wiping a smear of blood from his lip. His eyes had changed, pupils narrowed to vertical, reptilian slits. “Tickles.” Syros attacked with predatory focus, each strike calculated and devastating. Zee fought back with everything he had, his movements a blur of purple light and fury, sparks flying, wings flapping, but without his enhanced powers, and unarmed, I already knew how this ended.

I stepped in. “Syros?—”

A vicious uppercut caught Zee under the chin, snapping his head back. He staggered, wings flaring weakly. Before he could recover, Syros delivered a crushing blow to his stomach, followed by a kick that sent Zee tumbling across the dusty ground.

“No!” I rushed to his side as he struggled to rise, blood soaking the jagged slash marks through his orange suit.

“I’m good,” he gasped, but his legs gave out as he tried to stand. “Just... just give me a second.”

Syros laughed, backing toward the hole in the fence. “Is this really all you’ve got? The great Heroes of the City? I’ve scraped more heroic things off my shoes.”

I dropped onto the dirt next to Zee and helped him to sit up. He breathed hard, ragged, and his wings had dulled.

“Go,” Zee rasped, gripping my arm. “Don’t let him get away.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“I’m just winded. I’ll be right behind you, Kitten.” He coughed, then managed a pained smile.

I squeezed his hand. “Promise?”

“On my name... Lycian, Scourge of Demios, God of Fucking, Best Demon Ever.”

Standing, I turned to face my brother, but he was already slipping through the hole in the fence. Our eyes met for a brief moment—his triumphant, smug, satisfied. A growl simmered inside me.

“Come and get me, little brother,” he challenged, then stumbled from the fence and staggered a few feet into the starlit barren background of the Nevada desert.

I looked back at Zee one last time. He nodded weakly, his tail flicking in what might have been encouragement.

“Go be a badass,” he whispered.

I sprinted across the yard. The sirens still wailed inside the prison, but out here, with the stars overhead and the fence breached, a different kind of alarm sounded in my head.

Syros was free.

And I was alone. I’d wanted it this way, to face him one-on-one, to relive the past and make it right. But now it was happening, I missed Zee and Victor at my side. I was going to need them...

I dove through the hole in the fence, feeling the wards’ influence fade as I passed through and my dragon self stretched beneath my glamor.

The moment had come.

Only one dragon would survive what came next.