Page 127 of Feral King

“Julian, wait,” Alex’s voice is shredded with panic. “Wait! I’m your brother?—”

The first punch breaks Alex’s nose. I can hear it, the crack of cartilage giving way. Alex responds with a feral sound of suffering.

Julians grab Alex by the collar, pulling him up a bit off the floor.

“Youweremy brother,” Julian says, “but you stopped being my brother the second you pulled a gun on her.”

“Julian, please?—”

The second punch lands on his cheekbone, splitting the skin. Blood sprays against the concrete in a dark arc.

“Please—”

Julian pulls him up again. “Every word you used against her, every insult, every time you told her she wasn’t enough… I’m going to make sure you never speak again long enough to say any of it to anyone else.”

The third punch lands.

I hear a noise I know I won’t forget for the rest of my life, a horrible sound somewhere between a crack and a tear.

It’s the sound of a jawbone breaking.

A strange skittering noise follows. I’m confused what it is at first, but then I spot them a few feet away—two teeth, stained with blood. I gasp.

Julian could kill Alex with his bare hands. I can sense his hesitation as he weighs the pros and cons. Alex goes silent, his eyes wild and fearful, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. With the damage Julian has done to his face, I don’t think he could speak even if he wanted to. He coughs, a bit of blood spraying onto his chin and shirt.

Julian stops hitting him. His breaths are full, even, and steady, his knuckles red, raw, and already swelling. Alex’s blood covers the front of his shirt. He stays there, straddling his brother on the concrete, leaning down until his face is inches from Alex’s ruined one.

When he speaks, it’s so quiet that I almost can’t hear what he says.

“You touched what’s mine.”

He stays there for another second, as if letting Alex soak in the words and the pain. Then he lowers Alex down, the punishment over. He stands and walks to where his gun still lays on the ground. He picks it up. Then he looks at Alex with an expression of disappointment.

I find myself wondering what’s on his mind. Is he angry? Vengeful? Or is he wishing things had turned out differently, that Alex and he could just be brothers again?

I don’t have long to ponder it.

“Take him,” Julian says. “Keep him alive. I want him alive.”

Two of Julian’s lieutenants close in and haul Alex up by the arms. He groans as they drag him toward the warehouse doors, his feet scraping limply on the concrete.

I turn to see Sophia crying, her body shaking with big, heaving sobs.

“Her, too,” Julian says.

Yang nods to two of his men and they dutifully hurry to Sophia, easing her off the ground and to her feet.

She turns to me. “Lyra, please.” She reaches her hands out toward me. “I didn’t… I didn’t know things would… please, Ly, you have to tell them.”

I don’t say a word.

“Ly, please. We were friends, best friends! Please!”

Julian nods to the men holding her. “Get her out of my sight.”

She wails and cries as the men lead her out of the warehouse. I can tell by her sobs that she knows it’s over, that whatever happens next will be a punishment that she’s earned, and one that there’s no escaping from.

I watch her disappear through the doors. I will not give her the forgiveness or mercy that she’s begging for. The sight of her grabbing that pistol off the ground, pointing it at Julian and firing—whatever sympathy I might’ve had for her—ended when she made that decision.