Heir Of Violence (#1 Betrayed Destinies) - ONC2024

Chapter 18 - Truth Hurts

Zaen stalked toward a closed-lipped and scowling Dhevun, trying to block out the sound of Caeryssa shattering. He'd done that. Forced her to acknowledge the raw, ugly truth at the heart of her family. His skin tightened as if too small for his muscles, her choked-out words and whispered plea replaying in his thoughts. He glared back at his bodyguard as he passed into the hall. It wasn't like he'd made her father into an assassin. The fucker had chosen his career all on his own, way before Zaen existed.

Maybe the asswipe should have thought about a career change when he found his soulmate and had a daughter, instead of dragging them down into the muck with him. Zaen's heart twisted. She'd been looking at him, lusting after him, and he'd bloody well shattered her like plucking the damned petals off a flower and crushing it. His fists clenched.

Shards, if only he had time to—

Fuck it. He detoured from his bedroom to the large workout space tucked down the hall at the far end of the suite. Stretching as he walked, he made his way over to a sparring droid. All black with cushioning to mimic flesh, it could fight in numerous styles and at different levels of experience. "Activate," he ordered as he stepped into the circular control ring embedded into the floor. "Expert level, Dragon's Fist."

The droid bowed and crouched into a ready position.

Not holding back, Zaen flew at it with a series of punches and kicks that had the droid immediately on the defensive. A sweat soon covered his body as he attacked, and attacked again with the droid managing to deflect each one, as well as launch a few of its own.

Finally, he slipped through the droid's vigorous defence.

Zaen's foot connected with the droid's midsection, sending it flying across the ring to impact against the control barrier in an electric hum, holding it in place and preventing the droid from leaving the arena.

The blank-faced droid rose and again moved into the ready position. However, instead of waiting for Zaen to take the initiative, it launched its own series of punches and kicks. Back and forth, across the ring and around, they traded blows until Zaen grunted as his elbow block missed and the droid landed a teeth-rattling punch to his jaw.

Zaen stepped back, wiggling his painful jaw. That damned droid had cracked the bone. Heat welled within his lower face. Already his nanites rushed to repair the damage.

Still, he didn't want to be covered in bruises when he dealt with Caeryssa's father.

"Disengage," he ordered the droid as he stepped out of the ring.

And that was the problem, he mused as he headed to his bedroom and a much-needed shower. He no longer thought of the assassin simply as Karzen Hawke. He was her father, not just the one-dimensional bad guy Zaen had hated for ten star cycles. The bastard had a soulmate—Caeryssa's mother. Could he risk killing Karzen and hope Aya didn't die? But even at that, he'd felt the agony of the bond with Caeryssa attempting her escape. To put Aya through that for the rest of her days? Was that justice?

He'd been prepared to infuriate the guild, but making an innocent woman suffer that agony for the rest of her life? Especially when it was his little sprite's mother? With the water on, he scrubbed at his hair and face, trying to come to a decision.

Although he'd told her thirty minutes, it was closer to an hour and a half by the time he emerged from his bedroom. Clean, in boots, black leather pants, and a matching leather vest with a royal blue tunic underneath, he'd added his vambraces and usual hidden weapons around his body. If Karzen tried something, Zaen would be ready.

Caeryssa sat quietly on a silver couch near the entrance of the suite. Face cleaned and staring at the marble floor, nothing gave away her previous breakdown. In a silver shipsuit that clung to her curves, a black sleeveless, ankle-length duster, and her boots, her outfit complimented her sapphire skin. She was the living image of his mother's Sigma Draconis familial line colours—the same colours he preferred. She was fierce, his little hellion, his soulmate, and someone he was sure his mother would have approved of to keep him in line.