“That’s a battle for another day.” And I take another step, gripping his jaw between my fingers, even as the dagger pierces my flesh. It burns, but not enough to distract me. “Today, I take revenge on everything you did to Tristan, and to Mei, and to all the others.”
And I let the dark take over, the shadows curling around me like a cocoon. They whoosh around me, draping layer over layer until there’s only the Collector and me. His eyes go round as he gapes at it all, and I hear the dagger clacking to the ground. Just as I did with Prince, I reach inside the Collector and search for whatever is in there.
I breathe it in, sucking it out of his body. He shudders, both his hands shooting to grip at my wrists. I feel whatever is inside him — hissoul— moving out of his body and into mine, being absorbed, devoured. And I like it. A smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I watch his eyes go wild, his motions grow violent, even as his body weakens. His soul is something bright and hot, warming my insides, and my head goes fuzzy with it. Like a drug, like something powerful, intense. I gasp as I keep taking it in, more and more, like his soul is much bigger than anything I could have pictured.
My stomach full, I watch his eyes go white. Both hands drop to his sides, lifeless, though he still stares at me. The Collector stumbles, his body growing heavy. I let go.
His lips move, but the words make no sense to me. A sense of thrill joins the adrenaline rushing through my veins, and my lips curl into a smile as I watch his body drop. The shadows drape away from around me, going back to their natural places. The Collector hits the ground, his suit opening, his eyes glazing over. He doesn’t move. Dead. He’s dead. Wicked victory slithers through me. I did it.
I finally killed the Collector.
It’s then the sound of a small explosion hits me. My brain doesn’t add up. I don’t know where it comes from, just that it’s in front of me. Pain slams into me, and I see red.
So much red.
CHAPTER34
APOLLO
With the corner of my eye, I follow Cassandra. The Collector attacks her, and that makes my heart jump in my chest, but Tristan is nearby, a huge vase in his hand, and Cassandra doesn’t falter. Her eyes burn, and she’s not afraid. She doesn’t fear him at all.
She is beautiful and fierce like a firestorm, and I couldn’t have chosen a better mate.
The Collector stumbles, says something to Tristan, and Cassandra makes her move. Shadows drape around them like black blankets made of air, and the two are locked in a bubble of dark, no sound coming through.
Just like that, I know this is the end. I know the Collector will not leave this place alive. She has him exactly where she wanted him to be.
This is the apex of my life’s work. I remember the extra hours and long nights going through tips and clues and interviews. How long did I spend reading the same reports, trying to find something, anything, that could connect people to the Collector. He’s always been careful, concealing his trace, paying the right people, so no one gets to him.
It’s clear how he had people on his payroll, even in the Shifter Division. It’s so obvious it hurts. There’s no other reason for my boss to hinder me like so, even when it was a hard person to follow, even when the clues were rare. The Collector always had the Council ready to attend him. Ready to obey. He’s much bigger than I could have imagined back then.
This all comes down to this. To Cassandra and how I wouldn’t be able to bring the Collector down on my own. How I needed her. She’s the person to do this.
My mate. She is strong, much stronger than any of us expected. And I can’t wait to see everything she can do.
I shoot the last standing guard in the knee. He’s one of the few who were into the fight even after Cassandra draped her shadows around the Collector. He truly defends the man, even after everything he said. After everything he’s done. The guard yelps and drops to his knees, then to his side, clutching his bleeding leg. The iron-filled smell of blood comes from everywhere around me, with the fallen guards and some of the rioting servants and former prisoners. Ren’s sister, Mei, sits to one side, pressing a hand to a wound on her arm. She doesn’t look like she regrets fighting, and I’m impressed many of them still have the spirit to after all they lived through.
The people go up in cheers. They scream their victory at the top of their lungs, hugging each other, announcing to the entire world what they did. The enslaved, the servants, the kidnapped. I see their tears and their smiles, and my heart thunders in my chest. My dragon wants to throw his head back and roar in victory. This is everything we’ve ever wanted. So good we never allowed ourselves to dream it out loud.
To crown our victory, I hear a thump and turn to see the Collector falling to Cassandra’s feet. He stops moving, and the cheers double in volume. A smile stretches my lips, and I gape at the scene, slowly turning around myself to see the others. To see their smiles, their tears of happiness.
In the back of my head, I want to rouse the ones who came with me, get them together so we can move out of here. With the Collector dead, the wards will be down, and I could shift into my dragon and get Cassandra out of here. The others would follow us out and away. The former prisoners and servants don’t have to go, not right now. The Little Palace is theirs. And Kayn doesn’t care about them. The vampire won’t do a thing.
Instead of moving out, I’m taken by the thrill of the moment. By the first victory we’ve had in forever. It sizzles in my blood, and my dragon’s fire ignites inside me. I laugh, then I move closer to Cassandra. She’s the crown of this victory, the one responsible for all of this. She’s the one who insisted on coming, the one who could take on the Collector. It’s all because of her.
Moving between guards, I keep my gaze fastened on my mate. She’s still standing there, in the same position, her back to me. I want to pick her up, kiss her, make her feel this victory.
My steps slow down. Why isn’t she moving? And why is the smell of blood so strong here? My gaze combs the Collector’s body. His eyes are open, glazed over, but it’s not him. He has a cut on his temple from when Tristan smashed a vase to his head, and that’s all. I know very well Cassandra’s powers work differently. She doesn’t rip you up. She rips your soul out.
Then where is this coming from?
My nostrils flare as I approach her. It’s then I see the blood cascading from my mate, spilling onto the expensive rug, the volume so stark it smells like a slaughter. My stomach flips, and everything seems to move slower. I grip Cassandra’s shoulders and turn her to me. Shock hits me first, my eyes widening, and no words come. My brain can’t comprehend the sight. I take too long to react.
It takes me precious seconds to understand.
The bracelets. They blew up.
CHAPTER35