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I know exactly how scary it is to be facing a male like Daxen when he’s angry. His fire burns so cold it could freeze your soul. I’ve marveled at the way he moves—calm, controlled, precise—a lot like Shade actually—a patient predator that is somehow more lethal—more terrifying—for its lack of emotion.

Up until now, I thought I was probably one of a very few who have seen Daxen at his most dangerous and walked away scarred, but alive.

But the look in his eyes now is a million times more terrifying than anything he’s ever aimed my way. Cage stills as Daxen’s grey eyes land on his. Even from here, I can see the barely restrained violence in their depths.

I thought I’d seen Daxen at his most monstrous.

I was wrong.

His tone is clipped when he speaks, as cold and unforgiving as the rest of him.

“Say that again.”

“W—what? Say what again?”

“The last line of drivel that fell from your lips. Repeat it.”

Cage’s eyes light up with hope. His lips tremble, and tears stream from his eyes. “Mercy! I’m begging you to have mercy! This is a mistake! A huge mistake! My father—my bloodline alone⁠—”

“Enough,” Dax snaps, cutting him off with a wave of his hand. “I didn’t ask for a dissertation. I simply thought it prudent to point out the irony of begging for mercy when you yourself have none.”

“I do!”

“Do you?”

“Yes! Let me prove it!”

Dax hums thoughtfully, then says, “Tell me why you tried to kill the Omega.”

The question has me taking a silent step back on instinct, like I can escape the pain even though I know better by now. The golden thread of Dax and my Mate Bond snaps back, coiling into a tight ball of pulsing pain.

Cage shuffles on his feet, groaning when he jostles the still-open wound in his stomach. Behind him, Vaelenor leans back against the wall and crosses his arms like he’s looking forward to an answer.

“I don’t understand,” Cage pants, expression tight with agony. “Who cares about a stupid fucking Omega? You all hate her anyway. I just… I just wanted her gone.”

“Why?” Daxen pushes.

“For personal reasons!” Cage snaps.

“So you decided to push her into the fire.”

“Yes!”

“And when that didn’t work…”

“I figured iron through the heart would finish the job.”

Cage struggles in his hold, growing more and more anxious as the seconds pass and the fire crackles and spits less than two feet away.

“Perhaps this makes me a hypocrite,” Daxen says thoughtfully, and the words make my stomach drop. The hope on Cage’s face turns into confidence.

“Oh, thank fuck. I knew you’d see reason,” he forces a smile through gritted teeth. His gaze falls to the metal bar in his stomach. “Now get me down to Calder and get this thing out of me. It fucking hurts!”

The flame in my chest burns hotter and hotter, but I can’t feel it over the overwhelming sense of betrayal. Which is ridiculous because what exactly did I think was happening? That Daxen was going to disfigure one of his trainees for trying to kill me?

“I think you misunderstand,” Daxen murmurs, so low I almost miss the response completely.

“Can we talk about this later?” Cage whines.