CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTY-NINE

{Dominic}

I turned, my claws still pressed to Jacob’s chest, my blood still humming with the urge to tear him apart. But when my gaze found the man stepping out of the darkness, I nearly faltered.

Ryker… at least, he was once.

The figure emerging from the shadows hardly resembled the man I’d seen just hours ago at the Winter Solstice ball. His once-proud stance was warped, his body thinner but harder, as if carved by decay and fury. His skin was sickly pale, veins pulsing black beneath it like worms writhing in glass. His eyes were nothing but endless pits rimmed with crimson, leaking trails of inky shadow.

Darkness clung to him like armor. His hands crackled with it, curling tendrils weaving through his fingers. And though his jaw still held that familiar sneer, it looked wrong, almost distorted, as if the corruption itself was pulling his features taut.

I forced the words out, rough in my throat. “You look terrible, Ryker.” My claws withdrew from Jacob, who slid away, forgotten for