Chapter Thirty three: The Council’s Crypt

The heavy blast doors of the High Council’s inner sanctum didn't even fucking stand a chance.

Kael slammed his steel-toed boot square into the locking mechanism, jammed his blood-slicked combat knife into the hydraulic seam, and wrenched the titanium open with a violent, metal-screaming pop.

Inside, the obsidian tomb lit up with flickering holographic displays, casting pale, terrified blue light over the remaining Council members scrambling backward like trapped rats.

"Lock the fucking—"

An executive never finished the order. Sera was through the gap first, a dark, feral laugh tearing from her throat as she flicked her wrists. Jagged spikes of sub-zero ice erupted across the room, pinning the man’s hands straight to the console in a spray of crimson and flash-frozen mist. He shrieked, his blood turning to red-streaked icicles against the terminal.

"Don't even breathe, you pathetic piece of shit," Sera purred, gliding forward while her freezing aura dropped the room's temperature to a bone-cracking chill.

Mari crossed the threshold like a goddess of the apocalypse. Her pulse was still hammering a feverish, wet rhythm against her ribs, her skin burning from the friction of the corridor.

Adrian filled the doorway behind her, his massive frame blocking every exit, his chest heaving as his dark eyes locked onto the shivering politicians with rabid, violent hunger. Ren flanked her left, hammering a master bypass into the Council’s mainframe while Lena crowded close behind, trembling with manic, unhinged ecstasy as she tracked every heavy, panting breath Mari took.

The last surviving senior director stumbled back against the reinforced glass wall, his face completely drained of color. "You're... a fucking glitch. The corporation owns—"

"Owned," Adrian growled.

In two bone-shattering strides, Adrian closed the distance, his massive hand wrapping around the director's throat and lifting him entirely off the floor with effortless, terrifying strength. The man clawed frantically at Adrian's wrist, choking out a wet, desperate gurgle. Adrian held him suspended in the air, turning his head just an inch to look down at Mari, his voice dropping to a low, demanding rumble. "He's all yours, Queen. Tear the bastards apart."

Mari didn't hesitate. She stepped straight into Adrian's heat, pressing her body flush against his side while she reached up to wrap her hand around his thick forearm, grounding herself in his crushing strength.

She walked right up to the dangling, gasping executive, invading his space until he could smell the copper, smoke, and sweat radiating off her skin.

"Your damn empire is dead," Mari whispered, her voice dripping with lethal, sexual authority as she reached up, her fingernails digging hard and deep into the dying man's jawline. "And you're going to watch every last fucking piece burn."