MALACHAI
I exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand down my face.
"Ezra," I called softly, nudging him slightly. "Sleep."
He didn't stir much, just let out a small hum before shifting closer, pressing his face against my chest.
I sighed. "Ezra, I said sleep."
Still nothing.
But sleep was the last thing on my mind.
My fists clenched as I stared at the ceiling, my mind a storm of rage. Lucius. That bastard. His father. An even bigger monster. I ground my teeth together, feeling the anger crawl under my skin, setting my blood on fire. How could someone be so vile, so utterly inhuman? To do that to Ezra…to watch as his own father did those things, then continue the cycle like it was his birthright?
My fingers curled into the sheets, my nails biting into my palms.
I was going to kill Lucius.
Not just kill him….i was going to rip him apart, piece by piece, make him suffer in ways he never imagined. He thought he knew pain? He thought he understood fear? No. Not yet. But he would.
I would make sure the last thing he ever saw was Ezra safe in my arms. The last thing he ever heard was Ezra calling me his home. And the last thing he ever felt… would be the agony of knowing he was nothing. That his existence ended at my hands, and the world would be better off without him.
My breaths were coming heavier now, my chest rising and falling in sharp, angry bursts.
Ezra shifted against me, murmuring softly in his sleep, and instantly, my fury softened. My grip on the sheets loosened. My hand found its way to his back, rubbing slow circles there.
I wouldn't let anything happen to him. Not ever again.
Lucius had already taken too much from him. Stolen too much. I wasn't about to let him take another damn thing. I didn't care what it took…whether I had to carve through armies, burn down cities, tear apart the very foundations of the world, I would make sure Ezra never had to be afraid again.
My jaw clenched as I stared at the wall, my mind racing with the possibilities. Lucius didn't deserve a quick death. No. He deserved to suffer. He deserved to beg for the mercy he never gave Ezra. He deserved to feel helpless, terrified, broken.
And I would make sure he did.
I wanted to bury him. Bury him in front of his father's grave, let him rot beneath the weight of the sins they both committed. Let his father watch from the depths of whatever hellspawned pit he came from, knowing his legacy ended in ruin, in suffering, in failure.
My fingers brushed against Ezra's hair, gently smoothing it away from his face.
He stirred again, letting out a soft sigh.
I leaned down, pressing a kiss against his forehead.
"I swear on my life, Ezra," I whispered. "I will never let him hurt you again. Never."
My hand trailed down to his, fingers intertwining with his own.
I would protect him.
With everything I had, everything I was.
Even if it killed me.
Because Ezra was mine.
And no one….no goddamn one….was going to take him away from me.