I didn’t ask to be born into this life, to become who I was. Fate was a cruel force beyond my comprehension. Inescapable and ruthless, caring for nothing but its own will. I didn’t fear death. I pressed against it, waiting to be pushed into the endless void of the After. I walked the shadowed line, always teetering on the edge of life. No, I didn’t fear death. It had always followed me. What I did fear was life. However short it may be. . .

But the same could not be said for this male as he cowered against the stone wall, trying to dig out the poisoned arrow as the inky black liquid crawled its way toward his heart. The vibrations of his weakening heartbeat pulsed through the floor and to my feet just outside the cracked-open door. I could feel it in my bones as each beat became slower and slower, my own heart calm and steady. Brown eyes bored into me from across the bedchamber: a plea to spare him from this fate.

He would receive no mercy from me.

I had no intention of taking his life tonight, only to retrieve what was not his and to get out. But once I saw the monster within, the vile things he had done to those who didn’t deserve it, I couldn’t leave him to roam the world.

Eamon will not be pleased. Neither will Nik, for that matter.

This was supposed to be a simple job. Get the book. Get out. I wasn’t supposed to take justice into my own hands. That wasn’t what a Roav did. But it was what I did, when the opportunity presented itself.

And why shouldn’t I? Shouldn’t I leave this world better while I can?