The heavy oak door didn't just open; it shattered into a flurry of splinters as Varg threw his massive shoulder against it. His crimson eyes, blown wide with an unadulterated, wild panic, swept across the bloody stone floor before anchoring onto my crumpled form.
"Vespera! My love..." he roared, his voice cracking with a terror I had never heard from the Tyrant before.
In a fraction of a second, his massive, scarred arms wrapped around my shivering, blood-soaked body, trying to hoist me into his chest. But I didn't lean into him. I didn't seek his warmth. This wasn't the hour where an Omega sought comforting shelter, and truth be told, I had never been that kind of creature.
Instead, a toxic, blinding rage flared from the depths of my failing consciousness. I wanted to tear everything apart—including the mate-bond, including this castle, and including the very man I loved most.
