Page 124 of Forbidden Empire

"No, you’re wrong, Rhea," Zeno cut in, a dangerous rumble.

He stepped forward. Aidon fell in beside him, Thal on the other side, all of them closing in. "Your little act, your bullshit grip on this town and on us. It’s done. When we end you, we’re taking every last scrap you’ve got, torching this place for good measure. But first, we’re stealing your weapons and getting paid. You’re finished. Canceled. Without our empires backing you, you’re nothing but a shadow."

She tilted her head, arching a brow, still clinging to her goddamn pride.

"And still, here I am, standing alone," she shot back.

"We let you get away with it for way too long," Aidon said, edged with years of repressed fury.

"The power’s shifted," Thal added, his gaze all lethal intent. "We’re the ones in charge now."

But listening to them bicker about who ran what was pointless. I didn’t come here to argue.

"Enough," I snarled. "Let’s finish her."

She laughed, a low, mocking sound that rippled through the air.

"Gentlemen," she started, a smirk curling on her lips, "I’m afraid you’ve got it all wr?—"

I launched myself at her, the urge to get my hands on her too much to resist. She was so close I could touch her. Sure, guards surrounded her, but so was I.

She cried out in surprise as I made contact, my fingers snaking around her throat as I threw her to the ground. The sounds of chaos and fighting ensued around me, but I didn’t look over my shoulder. I was confident the men I’d surrounded myself with could take care of themselves just fine.

We’d come this far, hadn’t we? The moment stretched, a taut wire between us, thrumming with something wild and electric.

The sheer thrill of it, the pleasure that ripped through me at the sight of Rhea’s fear, so fresh, so real, painted her blue eyes wide as the sky, raw and desperate.

Her fingers scrabbled at mine, her mouth open in a silent gasp, lungs greedy for air. I smiled down at her, letting the dark satisfaction roll over me.

Delicious. Twisted. Mine.

I squeezed, knuckles whitening, but released her. No. Suffocation would be too easy, too merciful. I wanted more. Needed more.

She thrashed beneath me, hips bucking, but my thighs pinned her tight, a low, throaty noise caught in her chest. I made a fist, raising my arm high, heart hammering, before I brought it down.

The sick crack of flesh-on-bone echoed. Rhea’s nose split open, blood blooming beneath my knuckles. She howled, shock and anguish mixing in the air, and I hit her again, the crimson rush spilling hot and fast.

Yes. That was better. So much better.

I struck her again and again, losing myself in the rhythm.

The jolt of muscle and bone, the rawness of power that pulsed through me. I cared about nothing else in the room, not the world. Only Rhea. Only the way she broke.

My fist rose once more, and then someone seized my arm, yanking me back.

I crashed to the floor, breath knocked from my chest.

Before I could lift my head, a boot connected with my ribs, brutal and unyielding, stealing the air from my lungs and leaving me gasping.

I fought to suck in air, the sting of desperation burning in my lungs. Rhea scrambled upright beside me, but all around us the fight raged on, a storm of gunshots echoing, the guttural sounds of violence swirling through the space.

A flash of metal caught my eye. There was a gun just feet away. I clawed toward it, gravel biting into my palms, my fingers curling around the grip as I looked up and saw Aidon.

His face was a bloodied ruin, streaked with crimson and swelling.

One of Rhea’s guards had him by the shirt, pounding him with savage satisfaction. Rage ignited inside me. I lifted the gun, aimed, and squeezed the trigger.

The shot cracked through the air, striking the man in the back of the head. He went down instantly, a puppet with cut strings.