Chapter 47

Liana’s POV

My head cleared the second I felt it, that sharp, suffocating shift in the air that gripped my throat like an invisible collar, that unmistakable, raw, electric pull of power and rage and danger that I had only ever known from one person, and my stomach bottomed out even before I turned and saw him.

Killian.

He was already there, already on top of Darion, fists flying with a savage rhythm, a storm of violence that didn’t stop, didn’t stutter, didn’t allow breath or mercy or reason, his body moving like an unhinged predator whose only purpose in that moment was destruction, whose only language was blood and bone, whose eyes, those terrifying pitch-black eyes, were so wild, so cold, so hollowed out by fury that it was like staring at a man possessed, like something ancient and ruthless had crawled into his skin and decided to wear it.

“Killian!” I screamed, my voice cracking as I stumbled forward, desperate, terrified, trying to reach him, bu