Page 159 of Shadowborne: Reckoning

As I fought to keep him off, and he chuckled in my face, whispering promises of pain and punishment for my traitorous choices, I cursed myself for my weakness, and him for his impenetrable strength. I willed Donavyn to give me moments longer—but when Ruin braced a forearm under my jaw, pressing down to cut off my air, I thought I was done.

Yet, as always, his arrogance was his downfall.

With a menacing smile, he braced his free hand on the grass above my shoulder and sneered, “On your back again, just where you belong—right, Donavyn?”

The rage that exploded in my chest was second only to the molten lava that burst in a volcanic eruption in Donavyn’s heart. As my mate roared, and threw himself towards us, Ruin’s eyes flickered up to see him coming—and my brothers darting aside to intervene. I took advantage of his distraction and slipped the blade out of the sheath at my hip and whipped it up to the corner of his jaw, piercing him with its point so that, as we stared at each other, small drops of blood pooled under its tip, then pattered to my leathers.

“I told you, Ruin,” I croaked, because he still held pressure on my throat, though I could breathe now that he’d frozen. “It’s not size that matters, it’s how you use it. One of these days, you’ll learn to listen to when a woman speaks.”

An inky dark shadow rolled behind his eyes and for a moment I thought he might actually snap my neck, even with the watching crowd.

But instead, his eyes narrowed and his lips peeled. “Do it,” he snarled through gritted teeth. “Do it, Bren—kill me,” he challenged, a strange, avid light in his eyes.

And that was how I found myself laying on the ground, under the weight of Ruin, with a blade to his jugular, frozen stiff.

The world shrank to the sight of his burning eyes, the pain in my body, and the memory of my brother’s words, spoken weeks earlier.

“Have you ever killed a man before, Bren?” Gil’s gaze was dark.

“No. Have you?”

Gil gave me a look, then continued as if I hadn’t asked. “One thing that’s important in the Fang, is that we’re honest with ourselves about our weaknesses and limitations. If you’ve never killed a man before, it’s likely you’ll hesitate at the very least—and a hesitation in a situation like this can mean anything from being overpowered, to dying yourself. Your assessment is correct, but you must have an alternative plan…”

Mentally, I scrambled. I wanted him dead. I wanted him gone. I knew he was evil and this world would be better without him.

I dug that point in a little deeper. “Let. Me. Go.”

Ruin’s eyes widened, and he stiffened. But just as the pressure on my throat eased, just as I thought for sure his cowardice would win over his arrogance, he leaned down so our noses almost touched.

“Make me,” he whispered.

Then he smiled.

I took a firmer grip on the blade handle and prayed God would forgive me for—

‘No, Bren!’ Akhane shrieked in my head. ‘Do not let him make you a murderer.’

‘But—’

Overhead, a dragon roared with such anguish and rage, the air seemed to tremble. Then everything happened too quickly.

Kgosi screamed.

Ruin’s head jerked up and his eyes went round. “No!” he bellowed.

I shoved Ruin sideways, scrambling to my feet as he rolled—but my brothers had already tackled him again and were holding him.

Donavyn stood, just feet away, his head tipped back and both hands in his hair, his face lined with worry.

‘What’s going on?’ I could see the silhouettes of the dragons circling above us—Carnage and Kgosi the only large shadows, because the others had circled high once the challenge had been called, to stay out of their way.

Kgosi pursued Carnage, but the blue dragon was… writhing in the sky.

Donavyn shook his head. ‘Kgosi broke into his mind. By force. And Bren… God, it’s worse than we thought.’

Akhane gave an ear-shattering shriek and I whirled, instinctively bringing up the blade. But Akhane hadn’t launched into the air. She stood on the earth behind me, her wings high and head up, shaking. She trembled like a leaf in the wind, and when I reached for her, it was as if I broke into an already flowing river of thought.

‘…these men are an infection… a blight on the land and its people. He didn’t only violate you, Bren, but others as well. Their brotherhood was forged in blood and betrayal, and they reveled in it—using the power given to them by the honorable, to use in dishonor. Worse… to use in evil. And their dragons… first tempted, then forced to swim in the cesspit of these evil men’s minds… oh God. They… Bren they violate, and create fear, and seek control—not only over your kind, but over mine. The wild ones were taken young and… conditioned to accept, taught there was no other way—they have been trained to this… this… depravity. They do not trust, because trust has never been earned. They are bought with a price and—’