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I shoot Kai a glare, and he gives me a shoulder shrug and a “what, he fucking does” expression back. I let it slide because he’s right, Dorian does look like shit. Dorian’s dark hair is matted with blood, sticking to his forehead. His face is bruised and puffy, one eye nearly swollen shut. His breathing is slow and irregular, and thick gashes decorate the flesh on his chest where his long white shirt is ripped wide open. The fabric is nearly brown, coated with sweat and blood. His black slacks are sticking to his lower half. As my eyes trail down his hanging body and to the floor, I notice the puddle beneath him. I take in the blood and piss as the strong scents fill my nostrils. The smell must finally hit Kai, as he doubles over and dry heaves. I glare at his hunched-over frame, waiting impatiently for him to stand back up.

“What?” he asks, taking a deep breath and circling in place. “You know how I am around blood, man. And that smell …” Kai gags again, grabbing his stomach.

“Malakai,” I growl, watching as he dry heaves yet again. He stands to his full height, looking more pale than usual.

“Dude, it smells like a fucking truck stop gas station in here,” he says, pulling his lower lip ring between his teeth. I don’t ask why that’s the first comparison his mind conjured as he leans back against the wall, gathering himself.

“What do you want?” Dorian grumbles, reminding me that he’s still in the room with us. Dorian’s voice is thick and raspy, like he’s been swallowing razor blades all night. I pull my gaze from Kai to look over at Dorian, walking toward him. When I reach him, I stop near his dangling feet. He groans as I stare up at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Having a good time, Dorian?” I ask.

“The fuck does it look like?” Dorian barks, somehow finding enough energy to lace his words in venom.

Huffing out a laugh, I stroll over to the chain apparatus and pull the lever. Dorian falls to the ground, right into the puddle of his putrid bodily fluids. Dorian groans again, wiggling himself around until he’s lying on his back. Walking over to him, I grab his foot and pull him across the room to a dry area. Then, I grab both sides of his filthy shirt and lift him from the ground in a single tug. I back him into the wall and hold him there. I intend to scare him a little and then get on with Riven’s plan, but as I’m holding him against the wall, my control begins to slip.

Not again.

Dorian’s face transforms into the face of another, one that still haunts my nightmares. Anguish sweeps through me, threatening to consume me as I stare at her face.

No, this isn’t right.

Shaking my head, I blink rapidly until only Dorian remains in front of me. My fists twist into his shirt as I slam him back into the wall, harder this time. My emotions battle for the spotlight until only one remains—anger.

The rage bubbles within me, rising to the surface as I continue to slam Dorian into the wall time after time. Once again, Dorian’s features transform until I’m staring into the ocean blue eyes that can only belong to one person. I release my grasp, letting her fall to the ground.

No. Not her—him.

I shake my head, pressing my palms into my eyes until everything blurs. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Cal, man. Are you okay? What’s wrong?” I hear Kai’s voice growing closer. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I instinctively flinch out of his grasp.

“Cal, come on. It’s okay. It’s me. It’s Malakai. You know me,” Kai says, shaking my shoulders and backing me into the wall. “CALLUM!”

Removing my hands from my eyes, I blink a few times. When my vision clears, I see Kai standing in front of me. My gaze drops to the ground where Dorian lies, his body motionless.

“Fuck,” I say, moving from the wall to kneel next to Dorian.

My hands reach out as I roll him over, shaking him roughly. His head lolls to one side, his eyes wide open and unblinking. No, no, no. This cannot be fucking happening right now.

“DORIAN!” I yell, placing two fingers over his carotid to check for a pulse.

I don’t feel anything. Dorian Reilly is fucking dead. I killed him. I lost control of my emotions and fucking killed him. How am I going to explain this to Riven … or to his brother, Raithe?

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” I yell, standing and pacing in circles.

Fisting my hands at my sides, I press my nails into my palms until I know that I’ve broken the skin. The pain is a welcome sting, an outlet for my racing thoughts. I need more of it. I lift my left hand, pull it back, and slam it right into the wall. The resounding crunch lets me know I’ve shattered bone. The pain dulls the anger, the regret, the sorrow.

“Cal, what’s wrong? What’s the big deal if Dorian is dead? Isn’t that what we came here for?” Kai asks, wincing once he spots my hand that’s already two times its normal size.

My breath stutters as I lock eyes with him. “No, Kai. Riven wanted me to let Dorian go. He planned to send Dorian somewhere he could never bother anyone else again. He was going to give his father the funds and a new identity so that he could disappear from our lives forever. He was going to put eyes on him to make sure he stayed gone.” I sigh. “It was a great plan. The greedy fucker would have taken the offer in a heartbeat. I lost control. I don’t know what happened,” I say, shaking my head.

“It’s okay, Callum. We all lose control from time to time. It’s okay, we can explain what happened. Riven and Raithe will understand. I got you, man,” Kai says, patting me on the shoulder before pulling me into an embrace.

Though I usually wouldn’t, I allow Kai to pull me close. I sometimes forget how kind and caring Kai is. He’d probably offer to take the fall for me if I asked. But I’d never do that, not to Kai or to anyone else. I learned the lesson of taking accountability a long time ago, and as much as it fucking stings, it’s a necessary part of the process.

“Thanks, Kai,” I say, “Let’s clean this up and get the fuck out of here.”

Kai’s words echo in my mind, setting alarm bells off as they do. He was partially correct in his assumption. Everyone might lose control from time to time, but I don’t. Something is so detrimentally wrong, and it has been for quite some time now.