Page 213 of Seasons of War
He didn't think he had the strength to force himself to agree, but he kept seeing himself dragging Kira through the blood. Knives sliced down his back. “Yes, Phaedra.”
“Tell her you've taken control of the cameras, and you're going to save her from captivity. Promise her your protection. Tell her you love her. Make her believe it.” The Phaedra scowled. “Just be a man and fuck her already.”
The muscles in his jaw hardened into knots of steel. He'd rip every one of this bastard's teeth out until he gagged on his own blood and died.
One more step forward, and the Phaedra's chest bumped Zayne. Death filled his eyes and voice. More deaths than Zayne could fathom. The kind of death borne of war and tyranny, and untold numbers of lives crushed. “No reluctance. No cowardice. No weakness. Rip yourself open for her and make her mine.”
The power of the Phaedra, a power that stretched over the entire empire and back through generations of absolute control, wound around Zayne's mind. The might of all the Phaedras to ever rule burned as powerfully as the sun in his eyes. Zayne couldn't speak. With his mother lying dead back home, he feared what the Phaedra may do to Kira now more than ever.
“You're incredible,” the Phaedra said. “Everything I knew you could be. Kira is exactly what you needed to reach your full potential. One day, you'll see it too.” A smile carved into his face. “You still think I don't own you. I will cherish the day you finally understand.”
Zayne had never felt as helpless as he did watching the Phaedra stalk for the door.
He stopped right before leaving. “Your mother's death isn't an excuse for you to fail.”
Hatred that ran as deep as the purest love iced Zayne's every vein. He expected to lose all control. To struggle with all he had not to beat the Phaedra's face into the door until his skull caved in and disintegrated into mush.
Instead, Zayne's resolve strengthened.
He wouldn't stop at killing the Phaedra. Wouldn't stop at making him suffer. One day, he'd watch this man lose every ounce of his power. And not even once he begged for the mercy of death, would Zayne consider giving it to him.
Only once the Phaedra fell on his face and begged Kira and the memory of his mother for forgiveness. Only then.
For now, that meant surviving.
Surviving to take Kira to safety, because once he killed the Phaedra, he’d likely be dead within seconds, and if he did survive, he’d never make it to her, much less help her escape to the territories. Not with all the security, and the snipers he was sure the Phaedra employed. Not now that he had to break her out himself. But one day…
One day, he’d kill the bastard.
“Oh, and Zayne.” The Phaedra called out from the other room, not even showing the respect of looking at him. “You still can't see her for three days. She must be cleansed of her sin.”
Fuck.
CHAPTER 49
Zayne
The Before-Times
Three Years Ago
The Capital
Kallum, Ciondo
830 P.C. [Post-Collapse]
Cool wind ripped at Zayne's jacket as he gripped Kira on the edge of the building. Though he'd caught Kira when she fell, it had been a heart-stopping second. Now she buried her face against his neck, hands clutching his shoulders. Body pressed so tightly against his that he felt her heart pounding.
She trembled.
“You're okay,” he said, one hand holding the back of her head, his other arm securely around her waist. “I have you. You're safe.”
She nodded.
“You did well tonight. It's almost over. We just need to get to the ground.”
Kira pulled her head back enough to look at her hands on his shoulders, and her gaze climbed up his body to meet his eyes, bashful curiosity flickering in her look. The glimmer of want dropped a weight in his gut, like they both dangledfrom the ledge.
