Page 144 of The Edge of Dawn

And yet, right now, he had to close himself to her because this was not the time nor the place for becoming vulnerable. Goddess, how she made him want to open up—how effortlessly she did it.

But he couldn’t afford to do that now.

He had to become the killer again—the cold, emotionless assassin. The usurpers had escaped into the past, creating an alternate timeline. He knew what would happen if he allowed them to reach Tarak.

He wouldn’t even exist right now.

He would never have had the opportunity to find Jade. To know what he knew now.

To have a direct hand in something so monumental.

To travel through a portal, back in time, spanning revolutions and immense distances.

He knew he was back on Kythia. He could feel it in his bones. He felt the aura of the planet itself, both familiar and crushing.

Where was he, exactly? Near the capital? Or on the other side of the planet—the colder side, amidst the ruins and the vast mountain ranges?

He saw the fools in the distance, heading for the mouth of the cave.

With the ease of drawing a breath, he pulled his ka’qui around himself and embraced the state of qim.

He held Jade’s precious presence in the back of his mind, placing a barrier between them—between his violence and her sweetness.

He could tell she resented it, but it was necessary.

He didn’t want her to be tainted by what he was about to do.

He surged forward, quickly catching up to his enemies.

They didn’t know what hit them. He killed two in quick succession, beheading one and impaling the other in his chest, Tarak’s sword cutting through Callidum armor as if it were nothing.

The third one raised his gun and fired at Dragek—or at least, at where he thought Dragek might be. He was invisible to them, after all. One of the advantages of qim was that a marksman, no matter how skilled, would find it almost impossible to deliver a fatal shot.

He ran forward, dancing across the rocky floor, over a well-worn path in the stone. He swung his sword in a fluid arc and found the side of the shooter’s neck, cleaving through his armor.

Three down, one left.

He sensed movement behind him, but he ignored it, focusing on the Kordolian in front of him.

This one had drawn his sword.

This one was a higher class of warrior than the others—he actually managed to parry Dragek’s first attack, momentarily pushing him back. He wore a dark helm that completely concealed his features, so Dragek had no sense of his appearance, but he could tell he was a skilled, experienced fighter.

But it didn’t matter.

They all fell the same in the end. When one couldn’t even see their opponent, let alone the blade Dragek wielded, the odds were almost impossible.

In his current state, only another Silent One or a First Division warrior could give him a decent fight.

For anyone else… The ability gap was too vast.

That was the difference between his ilk and them.

That’s why their side would always win.

The Empire had created them and made them into the deadliest monsters imaginable. But they hadn’t reckoned with the possibility that their weapons might turn against them.

Dragek simply ducked under the warrior’s vicious blade thrust and stabbed him twice in quick succession. Once, in his belly. Then, in the center of his chest.

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