Page 205 of Seasons of War
He nearly lost control of his hands like they could move on their own. Nearly wrapped them around the bastard's throat and crushed his windpipe. The roar beat against Zayne's chest, demanding he unleash it and teach the Phaedra what happened to anyone who fucked with Kira. Who used her and insulted her and attacked her heart.
Did the Phaedra even use Kira for the Followers now? Or had this become a new personal obsession? To break the woman who refused to bend to him.
“She's quite fond of you,” the Phaedra said. “Turn her, and you can keep her. There's no reason to kill someone you care about if they can be controlled. Just keep her in line. It's for her own good.”
Wrath, rage, fury—every facet of hate pummeled his insides until each bone ached and every fiber of muscle strained, and it took more restraint than he'd ever needed to hold himself back.
The Phaedra stroked the back of his head. “Clean yourself up. Take a few days to rest.”
It sickened Zayne to walk out of the room where so many lay dead. He felt like he returned from the pits of hell when he stepped out into daylight.
His driver waited for him, apparently. He climbed into the car, covered in blood. This time, the man didn't ask any questions or attempt conversation.
“Sorry for the mess,” Zayne said once they arrived at his apartment.
He walked through his front door, desperate to return to Kira instead. Three days… Three days without knowing if she'd emotionally survive what just happened. But then Kira wouldn't want to see him ever again, anyway. It might have been a gift, not a punishment, to separate them.
“Babe?”
What remained of his heart dropped. “Mel?”
Terror lit her eyes when she walked into the room. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
“No. I just need a shower.”
Walking closer, Mellie reached for his uniform jacket.
“Don't,” he said. “It'll get all over you.”
“It's okay.” She unfastened a button anyway. “I can get blood on my hands too.”
Only once Zayne ensured no blood remained anywhere on him, including under his nails, did he travel to see his mom. He needed to break the news to her before she found out another way. This, right after losing Kira, would destroy her.
But how could he look at her after killing her elder?
Zayne shot him.
That he found the strength to go to Mom made him feel even more guilty, because after doing such a horrible thing, he shouldn't be able to go on. Look at what he'd done to Kira.
He sickened himself.
“Mom.” He called out to her from the base of the stairs. A door opened and closed on another floor. “Did you sleep last night?”
If she were sleep-deprived from worrying about Kira, the news would hit even harder. He didn't want her to collapse. Zayne would rather take pure PXI every morning and night for the rest of his life than deliver this news to Mom.
His father met him at the top of the stairs, and the sight of him stoked Zayne's rage. “Father.” Zayne sniffed. That smell. “Are you drunk?”
“Son…” His voice trembled. When did the voice of the High General ever tremble?
Zayne's body acted before his mind could. He shoved past him and tore into his parents' bedroom, slowing at the darkness. Mom always kept the curtains open during the day.
His father slipped in front of him and took his shoulders right when he spotted Mom lying on the bed.
“Wait, son.”
“Mom.” The shock had been too much. She didn't even respond. Damn it, his father should have told him she knew.
“Zayne.” His father clasped his shoulders, but he broke away to kneel at her side.
