Page 89 of Beneath the Thorned Crown

I know that look.

It's the look that means Samuel Delgado is already dead.

Samuel’s amusement falters, just slightly. His fingers twitch against the trigger, his confidence wavering.

Dominic finally speaks.

"You talk too much."

Samuel’s expression darkens instantly. "You think this is a joke?"

Dominic tilts his head slightly, as if considering. Then—he laughs. A deep, low chuckle, smooth and controlled.

And that makes Samuel furious.

"You’re just a coward," Samuel snarls, his voice dripping with hatred. "Like the rest of your family before they were killed."

The moment the words leave his mouth, the air in the room changes.

There’s a subtle but lethal shift in Dominic’s stance.

The way his grip tightens on his gun. The way his jaw ticks. The way his eyes go completely, utterly void of anything but death.

Samuel knows he’s made a mistake.

Dominic exhales slowly, like a man who has just made a final decision. Then, without looking away, he nods.

At me.

My stomach twists. It’s subtle, a flick of his chin, but I understand.

Move. Now.

I don’t think.

I slam my elbow into Samuel’s ribs, driving it in with every ounce of strength left in my body.

He grunts, stumbling back, and in that single moment of distraction—I rip the knife from his belt.

Samuel’s shock turns into rage, but I don’t let him recover. I twist in his hold, my arm slashing out—cutting deep across his forearm.

Samuel screams.

I drop to the ground.

Dominic fires.

The gunshot rips through the air, the blast echoing off the crumbling walls.

Samuel staggers backward, his body jolting from the impact. His breath chokes off in a garbled, wet gasp, his eyes widening.

One.

Dominic doesn’t stop moving. He advances, each step slow, measured, deadly.

Samuel clutches at his chest, his fingers coming away slick with blood. His knees buckle, and for the first time—he looks afraid.

Another shot.

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