Cara’s voice whispered again, low and cruel.
‘If he won’t keep still, let’s make him’
“Fine,” I muttered, letting my claws slide free again. “You want to fight me for them?”
I caught one of his wrists, slashed deep across the joint. Bone cracked. Tendons gave. His scream ripped the air apart. I did the same to the other hand—fast, precise, merciless.
Blood slicked my arms, my thighs, the dirt beneath us turning to mud.
Then he went limp.
I didn’t know if it was from blood loss or sheer pain, but he was out cold. Maybe dead. Maybe not. I didn’t care.
For a moment, everything was silent again—just my heartbeat and the sound of my breathing.
I rose slowly, my chest heaving, my claws still dripping crimson.
Simon stepped forward, his expression unreadable but his voice steady.
“Well,
