I. Lose. Sight. Of. Her.
Aurora shouts from behind my back, "Follow that car! Keep an eye on them." The sound of her heels approaching me is the last thing before everything goes deadly quiet, as though the air itself has crystallised around me.
I lose focus.
Losing her—
She's gone.
The gun shakes harder. That I can feel. The sight still pointed at the end of the driveway as cars flood out. That I can see. But no noise. There must be commotion. Shouting. Tires.
I hear nothing.
"This is the last thing."
"This is the last thing. I will drag God himself to hell before I let you hurt again."
"I will protect you."
"I will choose you."
"You have to trust me."
Don't feel!
Rage like pure evil boils through my veins, red hot lava, burning up everything rational as it surges into my muscles, feeding them with volatile need. Need to hurt. Need to fight. All the "don't feel," orders and lessons in remaining unreadable, in control, in being the wolf, the heir, the District Mayor, the family man, the controlled man—
I don’t fucking care.
I. Fucking. Snap.
Growling as tears flood my eyes, their presence creeping dark pools of hatred across my vision, backing me into a corner of near volatility and vulnerability and—Fuck!
Someone touches my shoulder and when I whirl around, they punch my wrist, knocking the gun from my grasp. I cut my fist through the air, throwing a faceless person backwards.
There are soldiers all around me now, blurred shadows in my peripherals that want the calm Clay Butcher. The reliable one. He's not here—I don't fucking care.
They let her leave.
They had one damn job!
I roar, "You fuckers let her out of your sight!" I charge a body, jabbing quickly. Movement behind me jolts my attention. Ducking, I spin low and punch a solid wall of muscles three times until it falls away.
Someone else grabs my arms to stop me, and I still. Straighten. Taller than the guard now wincing, I use my weight and drop my fist hard into his face. Another soldier at my flank attempts to lock my arms behind me, to control me.
Who gave that order?
I growl and fight back.
Hearing my anger.
In my head.
But nothing fills my ears.
The fuckers get a grip on me. Three soldiers bracing my arms behind my back while others shift around in front of me. I can barely see them, the who, not important.
Bucking and gyrating as another body fights to restrain me, I tense, flex my muscles, and throw the fuckers forward. They fall into a pile ahead of me. I'm a fucking animal right now. Bared teeth.