MALACHAI
The night was thick with tension, the moon casting a cold, silver glow over the land as we moved like shadows through the trees. My heart pounded with every step, but not from fear…no, this was rage, pure and unfiltered, burning through my veins like gasoline waiting for a spark.
Three weeks of waiting. Three weeks of pain, of healing, of planning every single move down to the last second. And now, here we were, standing at the edge of Lucius's estate, ready to bring hell down on his head.
Tristan and I had gone over the plan a hundred times. Our men, my men now…had already infiltrated the property. They were dressed like Lucius's guards, stationed around the garden and near the mansion, blending in until the right moment. The rest of us, the ones leading the charge, stayed hidden in the surrounding trees, waiting for my signal.
I rolled my shoulders, feeling the familiar weight of my weapons, the familiar tension in my muscles. This was it. I was going to tear Lucius apart, limb by limb, for taking Ezra from me. For hurting him. For making me spend these past few weeks in a state of near madness, not knowing if he was safe, not knowing what he was going through.
Ezra.
My chest tightened at the thought of him. I didn't know what I expected. I didn't know what condition I would find him in, but I prayed he was still himself. I prayed that Lucius hadn't broken him.
Joss gave me a sharp nod, signaling that the men were in place. I exhaled slowly, gripping my gun tighter.
"Move," I ordered, and just like that, the hunt began.
We moved in silence, ghosts sweeping through the darkness, our steps careful, precise. The air smelled of wet earth and bloodlust. I could almost hear the death waiting to be unleashed, taste it on my tongue.
And then, just as I was about to give the signal, I saw him.
Ezra.
Walking.
I hadn't expected to see him. Not like this. Not now.
He was standing. Walking. Each step slow and unsteady, like he was forcing his body to move despite the pain. His face was twisted in concentration, his breath uneven. I could see it…how much it hurt him. How much he was pushing himself just to reach me. And fuck, my heart shattered.
I wanted to run to him. To grab him, hold him, make sure he was real. But just as my feet moved, just as I took a step forward, I heard it…Lucius' voice, sharp and commanding, calling out to his men hidden in the shadows.
For a moment, everything was still. Silent. Then all hell broke loose.
Gunfire erupted from the gardens, the sharp cracks tearing through the air like thunder. The men we had disguised as Lucius' guards turned on his real ones, bullets flying in every direction. Chaos swallowed the night, the once-silent grounds now filled with the sounds of war.
I didn't hesitate. I sprinted toward Ezra, dodging past a fallen body, the stench of blood thick in the air. He was still trying to reach me, his eyes wide, desperate. He didn't even flinch when a bullet zipped past him, too focused on me, on getting to me. My fucking brave boy.
"Elijah, cover me!" I barked into the earpiece, and my second-in-command responded instantly, leading our men deeper into the fight. I reached Ezra in seconds, grabbing him before his shaking legs could give out. He collapsed against me, his fingers digging into my arms, his breath ragged.
"Malachai," he whispered, his voice breaking. "You came."
I cupped his face, searching his eyes. "Of course I fucking came. I told you I'd protect you."
He let out a weak, breathless laugh, but before either of us could say another word, someone grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me away from him.
Lucius.
His fist slammed into my jaw, sending me staggering. Ezra screamed, trying to reach for me, but Lucius' men grabbed him, yanking him backward. Rage surged through me, hot and uncontrollable. I wiped the blood from my mouth, straightening as Lucius smirked at me.
"You really thought you could take him from me?" he sneered, stepping closer. "That you could just walk in here and…"
I didn't let him finish. My fist connected with his face, the satisfying crunch of bone shattering beneath my knuckles. He stumbled, cursing, but I didn't stop. I grabbed him by the collar and drove my knee into his gut, making him choke on his next breath.
Around us, the gunfight raged on, but in that moment, it didn't fucking matter. All that mattered was him…this bastard who had hurt Ezra. Who had tortured him. Touched him. I saw red.
Lucius recovered fast, pulling a knife from his belt, slashing toward me. I dodged, but not fast enough…the blade grazed my side, hot pain slicing through me. I gritted my teeth, grabbing his wrist before he could attack again, twisting it until he let out a pained yell. The knife dropped to the ground with a dull thud.
"Give him back," I growled, my voice deadly. "Now."
Lucius only grinned, blood dripping from his busted lip. "Make me."
Fine.
I slammed him against the nearest wall, my forearm pressing against his throat. His eyes widened, panic flickering through them for the first time. He struggled, but I only pressed harder, my grip unrelenting. "You're going to die tonight," I told him, my voice low, calm. "But first, you're going to watch me take back what's mine."
And then I let him go, just long enough to deliver the final blow.
A gunshot echoed in the air. Blood splattered. And Lucius crumpled to the ground…I shot him in a crucial spot, I wanted him die slowly…
The fight was over. Our men had taken control. But none of it mattered.
I turned, scanning the battlefield, searching…
Ezra.
He was where I had left him, barely holding himself up, his body shaking violently. His eyes were locked on mine, filled with relief, exhaustion… love.
I rushed to him, gathering him in my arms, holding him close. "It's over," I murmured against his hair. "It's over, baby. I've got you."
He let out a choked sob, burying his face in my chest. "Take me home."
And I did.
No matter what, I would always take him home.