31. Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-One

Z oya

In the parking lot, Lash and I walk hand in hand to the Visa office. We haven’t left the Zone for weeks, not since the confrontation with Max. We both just want the legalities sorted out so we can move on with our lives.

Lash is wearing a black hoody, pulled up over his ears, trying not to attract attention since we’re in public in broad daylight. My stomach is tied in knots knowing today’s the day we’re meeting with Samantha and the authorities to finalize the paperwork, officially switching my K-1 fiancé from Max to Lash.

It’s a moment I’ve been dreaming of, but I’m not looking forward to having to prove Max’s abuse. The day I can erase the pictures of my bruises from the phone Lash bought me will be one of the most freeing days of my life.

Lash must sense my nervousness because he gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s going to be okay, Starlight. We’ve got this.”

I nod, trying to let his reassurance wash over me. “I know. It’s just that I can’t shake the feeling something’s going to go wrong. Like it’s all too good to be true.”

He stops, turning to face me. His silver eyes filled with love. “Hey, we’ve come this far. We’ve faced every obstacle thrown our way. This? This is just one more step toward our future. Together.”

Warmth flashes behind my eyes, and I lean into him, letting his strength steady me. “I love you, Lash. More than anything.”

“I love you too, Zoya. We’ve got this. Besides, it’s all just a formality now, at least that’s what Samantha said. Even Max has had the intelligence to stay away these last few weeks.”

We continue toward the building, the warmth of Lash’s hand in mine a constant comfort.

But before we can take more than a few steps, a figure emerges from behind a nearby van. Ice floods my veins as I recognize the hulking form, a cruel sneer on his face.

Max.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, his voice dripping with malice. “My fiancée and her talking dog.”

Lash immediately steps in front of me, shielding me with his body. A low growl rumbles from his chest. “What the hell are you doing here, Max?”

Max’s eyes glitter with a manic light. He reaches behind his back and pulls out a gun, pointing it directly at us. I can’t breathe, terror seizing my lungs.

“Did you really think your little threats would scare me off?” Max sneers. “That I’d just let you walk away with my property?” He gestures wildly with the gun.

Property. My fear almost transforms to anger—the word makes my skin crawl. In Max’s eyes, I’ve never been a person. Just something to own, to control.

Lash’s muscles are coiled tight, ready to spring. “Zoya isn’t yours. She never was. Put the gun down, Max. Don’t make this worse than it already is.”

Max laughs, a harsh, ugly sound. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”

What happens next is a blur. Max lunges forward, swinging the gun toward Lash, who moves with inhuman speed, knocking the gun from Max’s grip. It skitters across the pavement as the two men crash to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

I hear gasps and the words “Other” and “wolven” as the hood concealing Lash’s identity falls off his head revealing his ears. There are several people in the parking lot, all of them focused on the skirmish between Max and Lash.

After their last meeting, Lash had explained that he was lucky there were no onlookers, or he would have had to control his urge to shift. The Others are hated enough without the world knowing they’re able to become even more deadly than they already are.

I stand frozen, my heart in my throat as they grapple. Max may be bigger, but Lash is faster, stronger. He lands a solid punch to Max’s jaw, then leaps off him.

Lash backs up several steps as Max gets to his feet, wiping the blood from his split lip with the back of his hand.

“Stop, Max, I don’t want to hurt you.” Even after Max has assaulted us and brandished a gun, Lash is still trying to talk sense into him.

Max is fueled by desperation and rage. He comes charging at Lash with a furious roar, driving his shoulder into Lash’s chest, slamming him into the brick wall. Lash’s head hits the wall with a sickening thud, clearly dazing him and pulling a terrified shout from me.

A bystander is shouting into her phone, her words a distant buzz in my ears. All I can focus on is the bitter fury of the man I flew halfway across the world to marry as he tries to destroy the most precious thing in my world.

Max wraps his hands around Lash’s throat, squeezing hard. I stand helpless as Lash struggles to stay conscious from the blow to the head while feebly trying to pull Max’s fingers from his throat. His face is turning an alarming shade of red.

And in that moment, something in me snaps. The fear that’s held me captive for so long shatters, replaced by white-hot fury. This man, this monster, has taken so much from me. My sense of safety, my self-worth. I won’t let him take Lash, too.

I don’t remember moving. One second I’m frozen, the next I’m grabbing the fallen gun from the ground. It’s heavy in my hands, foreign. But my grip is steady as I level it at Max’s chest.

“Get. Off. Him.” My voice is a snarl, ringing with a strength I hardly recognize. “Get off him now, or I swear to God, I’ll shoot you where your heart should be.”

He doesn’t react to my threat. Of course not. He knew me for five long months and in that time, I was nothing more than a pathetic punching bag.

“I’ll shoot you through your heart by the time I count to five.” I brandish the gun, hoping he sees that I’m not playing.

Max stills, his eyes widening as he takes in the sight of me. The barrel of the gun never wavers. Slowly, he releases his grip on Lash’s throat, raising his hands in surrender.

Lash takes a moment to pull in some desperate breaths. The dazed look in his eyes clears, his lips pulled back to expose his fangs, his claws unsheathed and deadly. But this male who I love doesn’t steal my power. He just silently lends his strength to mine.

“Zoya, baby, you don’t want to do this.” Max’s voice quivers as he wheedles, but his words have lost their power.

“You don’t know what I want,” I snap. “You never did. All you ever cared about was controlling me. But I’m done being your victim. I’m done being afraid of you.”

Sirens wail in the distance, growing louder with each passing second. Max’s face pales as he realizes what’s coming. In a last, desperate bid, he lunges for me.

But Lash is there, easily tackling him to the ground. He flips him onto his stomach, pinning Max down. His knee digging into Max’s back doesn’t prevent the man from spewing threats and profanity.

Funny, somewhere in the last month his words lost the power to hurt me.

“You’re finished,” Lash growls. “You’ll never hurt Zoya again. You’ll never hurt anyone again.”

The police cars screech into the parking lot, officers pouring out, weapons drawn. They order me to drop the gun, then swarm the three of us, uncertainty on their faces.

A woman holding a cell phone yells, “Wait. I’m the one who called 911. The man on the ground is who you want, not the wolven. I have it all on video.”

An officer approaches her and watches as she replays the video. He nods and points to Max. “That’s our perp!” The officers train their guns on Max as Lash steps away. They grasp Max, yank him to his feet, and cuff his hands behind his back.

As they lead him away, Max’s eyes find mine one last time. There’s no remorse there. No regret. Only a seething, impotent hatred.

I stare back, unwavering. I’m not afraid of him anymore. He has no power over me. Not now, not ever again.

Lash is at my side in an instant, his arms coming around me. I sag into his embrace, my hands clutching him with all my strength.

“It’s over,” he murmurs into my hair. “You did it, Zoya. You’re free. My female is stronger than she knew.”

And as the truth of his words sinks in, as the reality of my newfound freedom takes hold, I feel a lightness I’ve never known. In Lash’s arms, with the promise of our future stretching before us, I am finally whole.