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I slowly make my way through the edge of the crowd and then down the path to the entrance. Once there, the guards take one look at me and open the gate. I stand at their back as the men make their way through.

“Not on our land!” One of the guards shouts. I turn back to him; he flinches at whatever he sees in my expression.

“I know the rules,” I turn back to the others.

“What shall we do with him?” One of the twins grunts.

I step up to them and search the man’s pockets.

Finding what I was looking for, I click the key and then follow the beeping noise.

His vehicle is at the end of the lot. The black frame is twisted and new metal is melted onto it in places.

Spikes line the roof and also stick out of the tires.

Spray paint swirls over the black, making it look like blood.

“I’ll drive, put him in the passenger side.” Drax and Jax nod and drag him. I turn back to Maxen.

“You can either stay here or follow me. Either way doesn’t matter,” I say casually. He steps up to me.

“We stick together, Mi Alma.” He heads over to his bike, Thorn following him. Drax and Jax look grim as they head over to me after putting the man in the car. Drax eventually smiles at me and heads over to his bike. Jax stops at my side and stares at the retreating back of his brother.

“You really going to kill him?” I don’t bother looking at him.

“I have to. What’s one more mark on my soul?

” With that, I head to the man’s car and start it up with a rev.

I wait for the others to pull up beside me and then slowly make my way out of The Ring.

I head down the road, leading them to the other end of the territory.

The side of The Worshippers. After all, they have fewer patrols.

I use the time to harden myself, blocking out all emotions.

I can’t kill someone otherwise, and in this, I can't afford to hesitate. The journey doesn’t take long.

The man is starting to rouse when I pull the car over to the side of the path we are on.

I get out slowly and make my way around to his side of the car.

Opening the door, I watch as he falls out onto the ground, swearing.

“What do you want?” he slurs. He leans back against the car, ignoring the blood running down his head. His eye sharpens as he comes around; the monster in him awake. I shiver from that look, there’s nothing human in him.

“My job,” he smiles at me. “On your knees or stand?” I ask. He slowly pushes up from the ground. He laughs when he stands .

“You should join me, you obviously have a love for blood and death too.” I ignore his words, and the men I can feel at my back.

“We are very different,” I mutter, pulling my knife from my side. It’s times like this when I wish I had a gun.

“How so?” He asks casually.

“I kill only when I have to, you do it for the pleasure.” Not wanting to talk to him anymore, I step forward and jam the knife towards him.

He moves at the last minute and while it was supposed to pierce his chest, it now sticks from his stomach.

He stands there, clutching the blade moaning like it’s the best sex he ever had.

Lust is in his eyes again. I grab the knife and twist, trying to free it.

He grunts and then moans again. Bile rises in me and I have to swallow hard; he’s enjoying this.

I yank the blade out and he screams, but not from pain. Sands below.

Not waiting another minute, I jam the blade in his good eye and through to his brain.

I step back as his body falls. I stand there, my breathing even as the blood leaves his body.

The horror and guilt don’t surface, my soul so used to death that not even a little part of me is bothered.

I thought something in me would cry out, but there's only silence.

I don't know whether that's a good thing or not. When I remember who is behind me, my shoulders tighten. I know it had to be done, but the blackness in my soul will just keep growing at this rate. Something makes me hesitate to turn around. I don’t want to see the expression on the men's faces. I hesitate for another minute, no one saying a word. I brace myself for their horror and turn to see them. Their faces are blank. I run my eyes over everyone, searching for their disgust for me now. When I don’t see any, my shoulders slump, the tension leaving my body. I don’t want to examine why their opinions mean so much to me.

Maxen steps forward and my eyes are drawn to him like a moth to a flame, my light in the darkness guiding me home.

“What are we doing with the body?” His voice is even. They want to help me? Even after what I just did?

“I need proof of his death.” My voice sounds odd to me, like it’s muffled.

Jax tilts his head at me in question. “How?” I consider it, but hell, they just saw me kill someone in cold blood so…

“I would usually take their head, but I don’t want that sick bastard near me.”

“You kill people a lot?” Thorn asks. I look at him, knowing this is an important question. They might be okay with me killing this bag of dicks, but I need them to know I’m not just a monster.

“Only if I have to. I don’t enjoy it like the sick bastard at my feet, but I will do it if it means someone else doesn’t have to.” He nods like that makes sense, and I turn back to the body .

“I’ll take his eye patch and that will have to be enough. The car, I’ll drive back to The Ring and give to Major.” I nod as I list off what needs to be done.

“The body?” Maxen asks. I consider it, I would usually bury the rest of him. This bastard doesn’t deserve that. Who knows how many people he has tortured and killed? I’m not wasting my time on sending him to the sands below.

“Toss it over the border, let the ferals get him.”