Page 229 of Filthy Royal

A puff of air whispered across her cheek. Followed by the soft bristle of fur against her arm as the doc leaned over to inject more drugs into her.

Her eyes flashed open.

There was time only to notice the intense curiosity in the pink-and-gray-streaked eyes staring down at her. The flare of excitement. As if he couldn’t wait to find out exactly what made her tick. Whatever it took.

So she let the rage out.

Thanks to the life she’d led and the monsters she’d met, the darkness was a part of her, and it always would be. Moreover, it had given her the means to save herself.

There was nothing wrong with being a monster sometimes if it meant you got to take down other monsters worse than you.

Before she’d even finished her thoughts, her gift shot from her.

The doc flew back with an open-mouthed scream.

He dropped just before hitting the wall, the slight clatter of the tranq blaster the only sound as both struck the floor.

Angling her head, she registered the doc’s empty, dead eyes; whatever knowledge, whatever sick curiosity had been there, wiped away.

Shockingly, the whole endeavor had been surprisingly easy. Unlike every time before, she wasn’t even fatigued. Nor was there any pain, or ceilings or floors giving way.

With her emotions focused, apparently, her gift was as well.

Confidence growing, she tilted her chin and focused on the manacles at her wrists.

They snapped too.

Though her gift also punched a hole in the wall and crumpled the legs of the cot. Which meant she slammed to the floor with a hard jolt to the spine.

But she got the job done.

So she might need some more practice and time to refine her ability, but she was free.

Even better, a quick check revealed no fresh bruises—even the faded ones had disappeared. Her energy levels were better than they’d been in a long while.

She wanted to laugh out loud. But there was no time.

The noise had alerted two guards.

They surged inside—just as another deafening boom sounded, and the ship rocked yet again.

It didn’t matter; her gift leaped from her almost before she thought to let it out. Hungry. Frenzied. Undeterred. As with the doc, it sent the guards soaring backward.

By the time they hit the floor, they too were dead.

Scarlett sat up, listing to one side. She didn’t think it was her gift, though. She was still a little shaky from the tranq.

But she couldn’t afford to delay.

Damien would be searching for her.

Some kind of battle was already underway outside the shuttle, where Brotherhood and Consortium soldiers converged, their targets her Alpha and those they loved.

Plus, only Darvish knew for sure where Zaya was.

She could not allow this ship to take off.

She shoved up from the floor and headed to the door, her steps determined.

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