Page 123 of Feral King

With her remaining strength, she lets out a feral scream and raises her arm again.

I don’t hesitate.

I move my aim from Alex to Lee. The round hits her square in the forehead. She drops to her knees, then into a heap.

The room erupts.

Lee’s men open fire as soon as they realize what happened. Yang’s strike team returns the barrage with coordinated precision. The warehouse fills with thunder, a sensory overload of muzzle flashes and ricocheting concrete, all wreathed in the sharp, metallic scent of gunpowder.

Two of Lee’s men go down in the first six seconds. The third and fourth try to make a break for it, covering for one another as they slip back. They vanish out of sight for a moment, likely to reload.

Then one of them pops out of cover, spraying a barrage of suppressing fire. I hear Sophia scream, but I can’t tell if it’s because she was shot.

I look around for Alexander but can’t spot him. He’d been right in front of me, his head inches away from the barrel of my gun, but now he’s gone. I try to spot him from my cover position, but he’s nowhere to be found.

If he escapes…

I push the thought out of my head. I’ll get him. But first, I need to make sure Lyra’s safe.

I move through the chaos of the gunfire, keeping low and squeezing off rounds when I can. I draw closer to Lyra. But before I can get to her, I spot Sophia on her knees in the open, just a few feet from Lee’s body. One would think getting her to safety would be Alexander’s top priority. But he’s clearly more worried about himself.

Sophia looks like she’s hyperventilating, her hair is in her face, her hands trembling at her sides. I spot Lee’s pistol on the ground in front of her.

For one stupid, sentimental second, my protective instincts kick in. She’s a woman. She’s unarmed. She’s in the middle of a goddamn kill zone with no idea what to do.

I need to get her somewhere safe. She’s in over her head, scared out of her mind. I’ll figure out the rest later.

“Sophia!” I shout. “Get to cover, now!”

She looks at me, her expression dazed, almost dreamlike. Then she looks at Lee’s body before glancing around the room. I’m guessing she’s looking for Alexander.

I can practically see the calculations at work in her mind, trying to decide whose side she’s on, how she’s going to survive.

When she turns back to me, her eyes are hateful and narrowed.

Shit.

She lunges for Lee’s pistol, fumbling as she places it into her hands. This woman has likely never fired a gun in her life, but she’s about to use one now—on me.

“You did this!” she shouts. “This is all your fault!”

She raises the gun with shaky hands.

I move.

I pivot to the side just as the gun goes off. The shot goes wide, and I’m not about to let her get another one off. I charge toward her, placing one hand on her wrist, the other on the gun. She holds onto it with surprising strength, but I’m able to easily wrench it out of her grip and toss it aside.

For a moment, I expect her to fight back, to scream and thrash, to call out for Alex.

But she doesn’t. Instead, she just collapses on the ground and lies on the concrete, her cheek pressed against its cold surface. Then she starts to sob.

More gunfire. I move out of the way, taking cover and scanning the scene. Yang’s men are moving in on Lee’s two remaining soldiers.

More shouting. More gunfire. A few casings clatter to the ground, and then there’s silence.

It’snot over yet. Not until I see my brother—dead or alive.

I hear a scuffle behind me. When I turn around, the world stops.