Page 228 of Blade of the Nightking

Rìan's chest heaved, each breath sawing in and out of him as he remained locked on the commander with a ferocity that looked capable of tearing the world apart.

Then, around us, the guards began to gasp for air. Their eyes bulged as veins stood out starkly along their temples and throats. Bodies hit the sand in rapid succession as Rìan's magic crushed the breath from their lungs.

The commander swayed where he knelt, his face darkening to a frightening shade of purple. If this continued much longer, every guard in this alley would be dead.

And Thalassis would know—the entirety of the Full Circle would know—that we were here.

I rushed to Rìan's side and seized his arm, the muscle beneath my hand hard as stone. "Rìan."

For one horrifying moment, I wasn't sure he could even hear me. That I'd lost him. That whatever restraint he'd once possessed had finally given way to his fury.

"Please, Rìan."

The silver in his eyes flickered. It dimmed. The suffocating pressure in the air began to ebb. I drew in a shaky breath as the guards crumpled to the ground, coughing uncontrollably as they gulped down air.

Except for one.

One guard remained in the sand, his body convulsing helplessly against Rìan's invisible grip. Unlike the others, his stare wasn't vacant. He was looking directly at Rìan, sheer terror etched across his features as his boots gouged helpless furrows through the sand. His hands clawed desperately at his throat, fingernails carving bloody tracks into his own flesh.

"Rìan—" I said, alarmed.

"No." He growled. "That one dies."

The male's body spasmed weakly now, his strength failing as his eyes rolled back into his head.

If he died like this, Pelaga would know Rìan was here. "You can't⁠—"

Silver flashed in the commander's eyes. Smoothly, he drew his sword and ran the guard through.

His body fell still. Blood spread across the white sand in a dark crimson sheet as the commander continued to stare down at him, utterly devoid of emotion.

A puppet.

His will—his body—his very mind—belonged to Rìan.

I stared at the corpse, the sheer brutality of the execution leaving me rooted where I stood.

Rìan drew in a long, slow breath, the storm inside him gradually settling. Then he turned to the commander. "Take us to Thalassis."

The commander bent into a deep, exaggerated bow, every movement controlled by Rìan's will until his forehead nearly touched the sand.

"Yes, High Lord." The words came thickly, awkward on his tongue.

A chill crept down my spine.

"The rest of you..." Rìan gestured toward the guards. "Gather my weapons."

They moved at once, gathering every knife and blade they'd stripped from him, even wrenching the iron daggers free from the coral wall.

"Come, Eidra." Rìan's face was utterly impassive as he fixed me.

We followed the commander through the streets. I remained silent, too shaken by what I'd witnessed to trust myself to speak.

Rìan's expression had settled into something unnervingly calm, almost detached, while silver continued to burn in his eyes. The soldiers fell into perfect formation, parting the growing crowds before anyone could approach as they escorted us through the awakening streets of Pelaga.

As we passed the body, my gaze caught on the dead guard's face. Recognition struck instantly.

It was him.