Page 142 of The Bonding Games: Part 2

My fingers shake, clenching tighter in those fragile strands.

I will not . . . go back to him. Never again.

Another deafening, soundless moment.

I will . . . live, Cooper. You . . . can kill him . . . faster than he can . . . kill me.

A trembling breath leaves me.

I would . . . rather die . . . than become his . . . machine . . . again . . .

Her words sound further and further away.

The face before me grows smugger and smugger.

KILL HIM!

The abrupt overwhelm of Ezla’s presence has me snapping back to reality.

I blink.

Then I open my mouth to murmur in a low tone, just for Joseph, “Do you honestly think there is a single world out there in which I’d willingly hand the love of my life over to you?”

Joseph seems to stall.

“She’s mine. Ours. She’s happy. She loves us.” And I think his fate might finally be sinking into that thick skull of his as his skin gradually leaches of all colour. “I just wanted my eyes to be the last thing you see before that ability’s taken from you forever.” My voice drops further, and my grip on my armoury stick by my hip tightens. “Just like my own abuser’s last sight was that of my Bonded before she wiped his stain from this world for good.” And I don’t really want to thank this waste of space for anything, but I know it will really drive the nail into the coffin when I say, “Though I guess I should thank you for bringing such a stunning woman into this world for my brothers and I.”

Just as I thought, fury like I’ve never seen before drenches Joseph’s entire being, and fucking hell, that’s a sight for sore eyes. His mouth opens, and I know his wrath truly knows no bounds, that, if there is another life after this, he’ll be raging there for eternity, tormented by the simple fact that he didn’t get the last word in, didn’t get to spit out the nonsense that Ezla is his just one final time, before my fist slams upwards.

Blood splats onto my face as my green-glowing blade spears clean through his head, the hilt of my Avri sword pressed against the underside of his jaw, half of the blade standing on top of his skull, curving towards me. Inhaling and exhaling raggedly, I watch fixatedly as the light leaves those hideous mud-coloured eyes. He doesn’t make a sound, and he’s unable to see anything but me in his last moments, my body blocking everything else out.

And then he’s just . . . gone.

Nothing there.

All I can hear is myself struggling to catch my breath, my mind struggling to process the fact that the man that’s caused everyone in this room so much pain, the man who’s caused hundreds, thousands, of people so much pain, in fact, is simply . . . no longer here.

And with that realisation comes the one that this cinema is eerily silent.

There’s no more pained sounds. No more sobs, no more pleading, no more anguished screams.

Absolutely nothing.

In my chest, my heart becomes utterly motionless.

Demanifesting my blade, I finally blink out of the odd trance I’d been in.

Blinking once, I release Joseph from my grip, where he hits the taalk floor with a dull thud.

My armoury stick somehow finds its way back to my shoulder blade.

Very, very slowly, I turn around to face my Bonded.

Ezla lies without an ounce of life in her in Scotty’s arms.

40

SCOTTY