Page 197 of The Chains You Defy

The male at my mercy coughed, the white of his eyes laced with red streaks.

“Figure out the answer on your own. But I’ll give you a hint. Have you paid attention to Nayana’s neck?”

Art by @coleyart

Like a puppet steered by invisible strings, my head spun around.

No collar.

No dark mark.

Gone.

No. No.No.

A primal roar reached my ears, and only belatedly did I discern that the noise had been my own rage I’d allowed to escape.

An icy hand of dread wrapped around my throat, threatening to steal my air asa picture slowly formed, sinking into my brain and hooking its ugly claws into my consciousness. “What have you done?”

For a quick moment, triumph set Cantarlann’s eyes ablaze, and when he spoke, all covers of pretense fell away. “The severance is complete. The Graigh finished their ritual long before you arrived. And the best is, there’s nothing you can do about what transpired and the results thereof, Drochthuar Granna an Leirscriosta.”

“What ritual?” Still in denial against better judgment, I growled in anger.

“The one cutting the Wielder-Amplifier binding between the two of you.”

Impossible.

My chest rumbled with another growl so ferocious the detonation rattled my insides. The red film covering my vision intensified.

The binding.

Emptiness instead of warmth.

Not suppressed.

Gone.

Cut.

No.

I was done listening to the fucking bullshit—the binding, a result of divine energy, was unbreakable—tumbling from Cantarlann’s mouth. Even though Antas had warned me earlier as well.

The urge to act was almost impossible to ignore, and I directed the magic shackling him to alter his position. Strands of inky substance lifted him up, hauled him closer to the couch on which I’d settled Nayana, and forced his uncooperative form onto his knees in front of her. Serving repentance was the only appropriateposition for him, cowering at her feet while he could only witness how I destroyed his entire existence.

The magical restraints secured him to the ground, kept him in his position, and I made sure he was out of reach of my female, no matter how hard he’d pursue to touch her.

“Do something!” Cantarlann, like the preposterous fool he was, had the audacity to plead with Nayana, and another primal and feral growl built deep inside my chest.

Nayana’s answer, though too weak and silent, was like a balm to my tortured soul.

“No, Cantarlann. I can’t, and I won’t. For once, I won’t be reasoning with him. You provoked him, pushed him too far, and there’s no coming back from the accursed place he’s currently inhabiting. Hopefully, today will serve as a reminder of why not to cross Dion.”

Staring at her, pride had my breast swelling and my pulse speeding up despite the horrible circumstances. That the darker side of my nature made my woman uneasy wasn’t a secret—yet, with those few uttered words, she’d expressed her acceptance for all I was. Sinking to my knees in front of her, I grabbed her hands, leaned forward, and pressed a soft kiss to her clammy forehead.

My skin was vibrating with the demand for revenge, to retaliate, to maim, to kill. The thin thread of my patience was pulled taut, and each fiber snapped in a chain reaction the longer I remained inactive. Only the touch of her hands held me back; the innate need to ensure her safety overpowered the compulsion to let go and unleash my fury.

Antas had asked me for moderation and thoughtfulness.