LOGINKIRAThe Dassault Falcon touched down on a cracked, overgrown runway on the freezing, jagged coast of Nova Scotia just as the sun broke over the Atlantic.There were no ground crews. No customs agents. Just a dense wall of black pine trees and a freezing, bitter wind. Silas had purchased the decommissioned Cold War listening post five years ago under the name of a dead man, precisely for a day like this.We didn't bring Kael's army. An army was too loud. The street soldiers were ordered to scatter and quietly integrate back into the Narrows, waiting for the signal. It was just Alpha team, Aziel, and me.The heavy steel door of the concrete bunker groaned in protest as Aziel shoved it open, his shoulder muscles straining against rusted hinges that hadn't moved in half a decade.Inside, the air was stale and tasted of dust and copper. The bunker was a relic. There were no smart-glass screens, no wireless routers, and no digital footprints. The walls were lined with massive, antiquated s
KIRAOur Global 7500 was a burning carcass at Le Bourget, but billionaires didn’t travel to a remote coastal fortress in rental cars.Two miles down the cliffside road from the Chateau Noir, Kael’s men breached the gates of a private, heavily guarded airstrip. A pristine Dassault Falcon 8X sat on the tarmac, fueled and waiting for the Elders who would never board it.We took it.The takeoff was steep and turbulent, cutting through the thick marine layer rolling off the English Channel. Inside the cabin, there was no celebration. The adrenaline of the courtyard breach had completely evaporated, replaced by a heavy silence.Aziel didn't sit down. He paced the narrow aisle of the jet, his massive frame restless, casting long shadows in the dim cabin lighting. He had just conquered Europe, but he looked like a caged animal. He kept rolling his broad shoulders, his dark eyes continually scanning the quiet cabin as if expecting the shadows to bleed into an assassin."I can't fight a goddamn
Kira's POVThe sound of my stepsister’s pathetic, muffled sobbing echoed off the walls, but I didn't look back at her. I kept my face pressed against Aziel’s chest, breathing in the scent of him.Slowly, the tension in Aziel’s muscles began to shift. He gently pulled back just enough to look down at me, his thumbs sweeping across my cheekbones. Then, his dark, merciless eyes slid over my shoulder to the far side of the cellar.Roshan was still on the floor, bleeding from his shattered wrist, staring at Raheem’s lifeless in horror. The suave, arrogant King of Europe had finally realized he was trapped in a cage with a monster he could not control.Aziel let go of my waist. He stepped over the pool of blood and walked toward Roshan slowly."Wait," I called out, my voice cutting sharply through the freezing air.Aziel stopped instantly. He didn't question me. He turned his head, looking at me over his shoulder, the shotgun hanging loosely from his grip."Bring him to his feet,"
Kira's POVRaheem’s desperate, sniveling pleas dissolved into meaningless white noise. Stripped of his lies, he was nothing but a terrified shell kneeling on the cold stone of a French cellar.I stepped smoothly into his guard, exactly as Aziel had taught me in the church.Raheem tried to pull back, but Aziel’s heavy combat boot remained planted firmly against the back of his calves, pinning him perfectly in place for my strike. My Warlord held the monster still, and I delivered the judgment.I drove the matte-black steel upward, burying the blade directly under Raheem’s sternum.And then, with every ounce of the agony I had carried across two lifetimes, I twisted the hilt.It was instantaneous. Raheem’s eyes went entirely wide, the shock stealing the breath from his lungs before he could even scream. A choked, wet gasp tore from his throat. His body seized against the blade, and then, all at once, the life completely drained from his eyes.I pulled the knife free. Raheem colla
Kira’s POVThe sounds of the slaughter in the courtyard grew muffled as we descended the spiraling stone staircase into the bowels of the Chateau Noir.The air in the cellar was freezing, thick with the smell of damp earth and centuries-old wine. Aziel walked half a step ahead of me, his shotgun raised, his massive frame completely shielding me from the dark. We didn't speak. The absolute, synchronized silence between us was louder than the gunfire echoing above.At the bottom of the stairs, a heavy, iron-reinforced oak door stood closed.Aziel didn't bother checking the handle. He stepped back, raised his heavy combat boot, and kicked the door with such devastating, concussive force that the iron hinges violently snapped. The wood splintered into pieces, completely blowing out the entrance to the wine cellar.We stepped through the debris.The cellar was massive, lit only by a few flickering overhead bulbs. Rows of dusty wine racks formed a labyrinth of shadows.But my eyes didn't se
Kira’s POVThe Chateau Noir sat at the edge of a cliff overlooking the dark, thrashing waters of the English Channel.It wasn't a modern compound. It was a sprawling, centuries-old stone fortress that looked like it had been carved from the nightmares of a medieval king. Massive wrought-iron gates guarded the only bridge leading to the estate, heavily fortified by the Elders’ elite Parisian guard. The men manning the barricades were armed with military-grade thermal optics and heavy caliber machine guns.They were expecting a head on assault. They were expecting Aziel to attempt a stealth infiltration through the woods.We didn't give them the satisfaction.I sat in the passenger seat of the lead hijacked cartel transport truck, the heavy steel of the door vibrating beneath my hand as we sped down the winding, fog-choked mountain road.Aziel was driving. He didn't turn off the headlights. He didn't slow down. He gripped the heavy steering wheel with absolute, terrifying calm, his foot
Kira’s POV The first thing I noticed moments before dying was that my sister was smiling as they walked away from my burning car. The rain was lashing against the windshield violently, sounding like handfuls of gravel being thrown against the glass. The mountain road was entirely dark, illumina
Kira’s POVI could not stop thinking about the shattered crystal on the floor. I paced the length of my massive bedroom in the Lockwood mansion. The sun had set, casting long shadows across the walls. But my mind was stuck on the entryway downstairs. Miss Peterson. The elderly servant had looked
Kira’s POV The grand ballroom of the St. Regis Hotel was a sea of white roses. Thousands of blooms hung from the crystal chandeliers, their sweet scent masking the toxic reality of the room. The hall was packed to capacity. Rows of velvet chairs were filled with the city's most powerful business
Kira’s POV The first thing I noticed was that I could breathe. Air rushed into my lungs, fresh air that didn’t taste like smoke, and that didn’t smell like gasoline or burning hair. It tasted clean, cold, and sweet. I bolted upright. My hands flew to my chest, then to my face. I expected to fe







