++++++
When Mik iced the foggy bitches into shattered glass, Ryker sneered with good riddance. Ivan was face-down, dead or not, either way, he was useless. Mik laughed like a maniac. Ryker gathered himself enough to stand erect. Pain riddled his body, but it was the kind that shuddered with the ache of the power that came with it. He dug deep into himself and reached out for that furious light, finding only a wall. The snarl returned as he sought the reason.
Oriena.
She cut a red figure. His hatred saw her doused in a veil of blood. The rage of it was unexpected, even for himself who slept with the cold mistress of brutality. It was with calculated intent that he turned away from Ivan, Mikhael, and the others, stalking toward her with murderous purpose.