Page 242 of Lethal King

“You’re dead,” the mercenary growls, pointing that bloody barrel back down at my man.

Before he can pull the trigger, though, I hear a loud click. The jarring sound sucks my soul back into my body. The needle is dropped from my throat. A gun is lifted in its place.

“He’s not yours to kill!” Leander shouts, pointing his pistol at his own guard.

“Are you fucking crazy?” the mercenary barks back.

“There can only be one lion in the underworld,” Leander snaps. “And that’s me…”

“You aren’t paying me enough for this shit,” the guard grunts. His gun straightens.

Leander does the same. My head is too heavy to think straight, but I don’t need to think. I just react.

Calling on whatever strength I have left, I pry my tired mouth open and gnash down on Leander’s forearm.

“You fucking bitch!” he cries, dropping his gun.

When he jumps backward, I fall to the ground. My temple smacks against the carpet. I don’t feel any pain.

But I do hear one last gunshot.

It rips through the room like thunder.

A body hits the floor. I can’t tell where.

My vision blurs. But ahead, I can see smoke billowing from the guard’s gun. I blink. My vision blurs further.

Where’s Rian?

I just want to see my lion. One last time.

Not even the warmth of the morphine can rival the warmth he’s made me feel. My mind wanders. I see the soft lights at La Forcina. I feel his intense gaze. I sink into his passionate kiss.

My hazy mind flips back the pages. I see it all. I feel it all. The hate. The admiration. The crush. The disgust. The sex.

I remember the butterflies I tried to ignore the first time I saw him in person, back in that little throne room.

I remember how he played with me.

Rian Kilpatrick wasn’t fooled by the hologram. But he let me go anyway. Because he wanted to chase me. And I didn’t run because I wanted to lose him. I ran because I wanted to feel like I was worth chasing.

He made me feel that ten times over. He made me feel worth the pain and the anguish.

He made me feel worthy of love.

My lion.

“… Rian…”

I whisper out into the growing void.

“… Roz…”

His voice is raspy and distant. But it’s unmistakable.

The morphine flickers. An easy bliss lightens my heavy load.

For a moment, I can see again. Through my blurred vision, I watch as a massive figure drags himself off the bloody floor.