Then he was gone.
Rhen surged toward the place where he had stood, but the street beyond it was empty. No scent remained to follow, only heretic magic dissolving beneath the rain and the distant echo of laughter moving through the Quarter.
Behind him, the force sustaining Cole faltered again.
Every instinct demanded pursuit. The heretic had entered his mind, spilled his brothers’ blood, and stood laughingwhile Cole destroyed himself. Allowing him to leave violated everything Rhen was.
Cole made a broken sound among the rubble.
Rhen turned back.
The decision did not feel like mercy. It felt like postponing one death to prevent another.
He moved into Malakai’s line of sight, caught his gaze, and signed,Take him.
Malakai answered with a sharp nod before sliding one arm beneath Cole’s shoulders and the other beneath his knees. Residual power snapped weakly across Cole’s skin and burned through Malakai’s sleeves, but he did not loosen his hold.
Rhen looked toward Dax.
“Cover the transition.”
Dax positioned himself between them and the ruined street, scanning the rooftops and adjoining passages for another attack.
Rhen remained facing the direction the heretic had vanished while Malakai dematerialized with Cole.
The male was dead.
He simply did not know it yet.
They did not return to the compound as victors.
They returned like males carrying the consequences of their own desperation.
Malakai dematerialized first and reappeared inside the estate gates with Cole’s limp body in his arms. His boots slipped briefly upon the wet stone before he regained his balance.
Dax appeared a moment later, his jaw clenched and blood coating his hands. His attention remained fixed upon the surrounding darkness as though he expected the Quarter to send more enemies behind them.
Rhen arrived last.
He did not stagger or acknowledge his injuries. He moved like a blade being returned to its sheath, silent and already considering the next kill.
Rain flooded the courtyard, soaking through their clothing, flattening hair against skin, and turning the paving stones into a mirror of black and gray.
They had crossed half the distance to the main doors when Rhen stopped.
Something moved inside the mist.
It carried neither the scent of blood nor the immediate pressure of a threat.
It was simply a presence where no presence should have been.
A figure stood near the gates.
Small. Feminine.
Rain distorted the shape of her body, blurring its edges as though the storm itself could not hold her properly. Mist curled around her bare feet in slow, unnatural ribbons, swallowing pieces of her silhouette whenever lightning flashed above the estate.
Malakai’s head lifted sharply. He shifted Cole’s weight enough to free one hand and signed a terse question toward Rhen.
