KIERAN’S POV
I didn't expect to feel hesitation inside Ashar.
Not in the middle of a kill-space where instinct should have been clean, absolute, unquestioning.
Lucian came at me like a storm given shape—black fur, massive frame, silver-ringed eyes that reflected something fractured, something overridden.
This was not like our sparring match from before the LST.
That fight had been brutal, personal, driven by pride and resentment, yet still bound by control and discipline, even in aggression.
This was different.
This was intent without ownership.
A body moving with the full conviction of murder, while something else pulled the strings just out of sight.
Unfortunately for him, his target was the one untouchable I couldn’t let him have.
So Ashar met him head-on anyway.
The impact blasted a shockwave through the ridge, scattering loose stone and crushing brittle grass beneath us.
