Page 23 of Seeking Shadows

Green eyes pull me back from the abyss.

“Zane.” My whisper is shaky. I cling to the color of his hair, the lines of his face. Something to ground me.

“I don’t like your hair black,” I murmur absently. “I prefer blond.”

And then it slips out before I can stop it—

“He said he’s going to touch me again. I don’t want anyone touching me.”

Zane goes still.

His expression darkens, not with confusion, but with understanding.

"Who touched you?" His voice is ice, a barely contained threat.

I don’t answer. I don’t need to.

His gaze follows mine—straight to the man.

And before I can react, before I can stop him—

Zane is already walking.

CHAPTER 5

ZANE

I’ve alwaysbeen the calm one—the peacemaker. Especially among my brothers, who constantly swung between controlled chaos and reckless impulse, I was the one who said it wasn’t worth it. I kept my head down, focused on my art, on creating. And through that, I found my freedom—my independence.

But nothing in this world prepared me for Mia’s terrified eyes, for the way she shrank, hopeless, afraid, threatened. Nothing prepared the animal instinct that surged through my veins, urging me to eliminate anyone who dared touch her.

She’s not some fragile thing. Not a doll or a puppet.

She’s a person. And she's mine.My woman.

I don’t even realize if I ran toward the bastard like a wild animal or if I took calculated, controlled steps—everything’s a blur, all I know is that when my fist connects with his face, it’s like the world splits open. The pain shoots through me, tearing into my knuckles, but I don’t care. Not in that moment. Not when the blood of my fury is boiling beneath my skin, turning everything into a haze of rage.

Rage clouds my vision, turning everything into a blur as I focus on him, the bastard who made her afraid. The bastard who’s standing there, breathing, still alive, and every inch of my body screams that he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve the privilege of air in his lungs, not when he made her shrink in fear, not when he touched her like that.

No one intervenes. They all stand there, frozen. They know better. They know what I’ll do. And right now, they’re wise enough to stay out of my way.

“Touch her again,” I growl, “and I’ll kill you.”

The men around us are confused, unsure. Nico hasn’t shown up yet—I'm supposed to wait for him to talk business—but all I can think about is that this idiot laid hands on my wife. He made her sad.

That’s enough to make my hands go straight for his neck, squeezing until he chokes on his own breath. I don’t know how to fight—if he fights back, I’m probably getting my ass handed to me—but I won’t stop. I’ll keep going until he stops breathing.

“She’s not your woman yet,” he gasps, his words making my blood boil. I see red.

I pull my gun from my waist, swinging it at his head with a savage precision. The crack of the shot rings out, loud, deafening. His skull explodes under the impact, the force sending bits of bone, blood, and brain splattering across the floor. The air thickens with the metallic stench of death as his body slumps, lifeless, into the mess of gore that now coats the ground. It’s messy, visceral, but there’s no room for regret. No hesitation.

The problem is solved.

“Anyone else want to say that?” I ask, my voice low and lethal. No one answers. The security guards from the Society start hauling the body away like it’s just another Tuesday. But they look at me like I’ve lost my mind.

Sometimes, I wish I could be like Mitchell. He would’ve kept the bastard alive, tortured him. If I had the stomach for it, I’d probably be inclined to do the same.

“Reign…” Mia whispers, pulling me away from the scene.

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