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he commanded. They regrouped briefly, ten in total, before breaking into smaller teams to sweep the area. But before the first group could move, the first bullet tore through one's head from the woods Then, before they could react, another joined. Gunfire erupted from far behind the trees, as Blackwood's men shot with deadly precision. In seconds, the night was disturbed by the sound of heavy bullets and snapping branches. Trees were shredded as bullets rained down like heavy rainfall. The ten men never stood a chance. One by one, they dropped, the dirt and leaves beneath them soon drenched in blood, and from the second floor of a tall building, a young man stood with folded fists, watching

She cut herself and held out her hand in the air, so the blood dropped into the sacred bowl. " Hold your hands together so the cuts meet," he said. I turned and faced her, her pretty face was a charm on its own and I found myself struggling to concentrate. I stretched out my hands to her, she did the same and placed her cut palm on mine. A spark was felt and I knew she felt it as well. The fire began to burn so well. Our wolves began to collide and I was struggling to breathe. It seemed the two wolves were trying to become one and we were the ones being affected by it.

“Of course it is.” Bullets slammed into the wall beside them. Closer now. Faster. Relentless. Elena’s fingers moved quickly across the panel. “It needs his access.” Alexander didn’t hesitate. He turned, scanning the chaos behind them. “Richard!” His voice cut through the gunfire. “End this!” Below, Richard Blackwood stood untouched. Calm. Composed. Watching. Always watching. The bullets never came near him. The system recognized its master. He tilted his head slightly.

Low men in black uniforms, holding firearms smoking from the barrel. “Alice…” Brandon whispered as more gunshots rang through the otherwise silent night, lighting up the forest with angry red bursts, piercing through Brandon’s falling body. He crashed onto the forest floor, unmoving, lifeless. Before I could so much as scream or move a finger, the lasers from the guns held by the dark men landed on my body, lighting it up like a Christmas tree. Time slowed down to a halt as their fingers pulled the triggers. I could see with clarity that only impending death can grant. It was almost as if I was witnessing everything from an astral perspective, noticing how each bullet left each barrel with a

“I’ll burn this place down before I let you win.” But then, suddenly I heard a shot fired. The sound tore through the chaos, louder than the fire, louder than the screams. My chest jolted as the bullet slammed into me, hot fire tearing through bone and flesh. My breath caught and my knees buckled. The world slowed. The flames blurred into one red haze. Smoke filled my lungs. I looked up, vision tunneling, the last thing I saw being Blakewood’s calm, pitiless face through the smoke.

I narrowed my eyes. A black car had just stopped in front of the station. The car doors opened. Five men in all black stepped out. Black boots. Black masks. Long guns in their hands. I smiled. “It’s time,” I whispered to myself. I turned and ran toward the front. My hand pulled out my gun. The first man kicked the glass door open. It shattered into tiny sharp pieces. I fired. The bullet hit the door frame. The men split fast like they had trained for it a hundred times.

The echo of dripping water from a loose tap filled the silence, and Bella's reflection in the mirror looked almost ghostly beneath the harsh light. An uneasy weight settled in her chest. Her pulse quickened for no clear reason, a warning whispering from deep inside her. Something's wrong. Unbeknownst to her, one of Riven's top men — a shadow among shadows — crouched silently in the farthest stall. His presence was like the faint shift of air before a storm. They called him Bullet Man, not for his speed alone, but for how cleanly he struck — swift, precise, and without trace.

Zevran said. She raised her hands, the flames forming a circle between them. “By my measure, you will burn no more in hunger, but in memory.” The black fire contracted into a single pulse—then exploded outward as pure white. The shockwave swept through the chamber, up the stairs, through the citadel, and across the plains. When it faded, silence reigned. The Black Moon in the sky flickered once, then began to bleed gold. Zevran sank to his knees, pulling Kaelira into his arms. Her skin still glowed faintly, her breathing ragged but steady.

“Eyes sharp. The Black Reign knows we’re here.” Dante adjusted his jacket, gripping his gun. He wasn’t the leader, but he moved with precision, covering the team and reading the space like a battlefield. The sound of engines tore through the night. Headlights flashed. Boots hit concrete. The Black Reign had arrived. “Positions!” Whisper ordered. Gunfire exploded almost immediately. Bullets tore through metal. Sparks flew. Men shouted. Smoke filled the air. Dante stayed low, moving from cover to cover, firing in short bursts. He covered a teammate crossing open space, then rolled behind a crate as bullets ripped through where he’d just been standing.

click. The sound of the empty chambers echoed in the vast factory, a countdown to death. Then, I threw the gun at Isabella's feet. "Your turn," I said, my voice devoid of heat. "Six chambers. Three bullets. Let's make it fair." "No! Dante! Please!" Isabella completely broke down, collapsing to her knees, snot and tears streaming down her face. "I was wrong! I was so wrong! Don't..." "Pick it up." My voice was devoid of any warmth. "Or I'll make your father, your brother, every man in your family, play along with you."