Page 219 of Lethal King

The punch lands right between my eyes, and I’m sent flying onto my back. Stars replace the black spots in my vision. A wave of pain snaps through my skull.

Fighting it all away, I roll onto my side.

I don’t get far.

“You shouldn’t have come here, asshole,” the stranger swears, jumping back on top of me.

“You shouldn’t have killed my men.”

Somehow, I manage to give myself enough space to knee the fucker in the groin.

He grunts and temporarily recoils, giving me the space I need to reach up to his throat and throw him to the ground.

Now, I’m on top, and I finally get a good look at my attacker.

“You…”

“Who the fuck were you expecting?” Tytus spits up at me.

He’s covered in blood, but that face is unmistakable.

“Where is she?” I ask, fury rising. “What did you do with her?”

“Why the hell do you care?” Tytus sneers.

Grabbing his collar, I pull him up just enough to slam his head back into the ground.

“She’s mine,” I tell him, blood dripping from my nose. “And you’re not allowed to hurt her.”

Something snaps behind Tytus’ already wild eyes. With incredible quickness and strength, he wrenches his arms between my vice grip and rips me off of him.

I jump to my feet, stumbling backward until I catch myself against the wall.

“I would never hurt my sister,” Tytus growls. Grabbing onto a sconce light, he pulls himself up. But the beast is wounded, and he wobbles against the wall as blood drips from an unseen wound.

Crouching down, I pull the knife from my around my ankle.

But I don’t attack. Not yet.

Tytus is injured. Badly.

“What the hell happened to you?” I ask, almost not wanting to hear the answer.

Did he confront Roz? Did they fight?

Fuck. Tytus is strong as hell. If he looks like this, how does Roz look?

My stomach drops.

“That’s none of your fucking business,” Tytus wheezes. Gripping his abdomen, he tries to straighten himself up. But it’s no use. He’s too weak.

He falls to the ground.

Before his knees can hit the floor, though, I jump forward and grab him.

“What the fuck is going on,” I grumble. Helping him down, I push him against the wall and place my knife against his throat. “You better start talking.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”