Indomitable

t h i r t y - o n e

Killure felt like he could do anything. Energy surged through his body, then into his limbs and back again. If someone had asked him to move a mountain, he wouldn't have doubted that he could.

But crowd wasn't staring at him. No, their attention was on the petite Designer in his arms. They looked on in awe and wonder as he stood up and carried her away.

Her sister, who reminded Killure of a disfigured rat, had fainted, and lay pathetically on the ground. Even unconscious, her face was still distorted in anger. Ugly.

The crowd was dead silent.

Suddenly, a rock flew towards them. Someone had chucked it at his master, hoping to hit her.

He didn't even have to deflect it.

A barrier of rich, blue light shot out from the unconscious Designer's hands, and the rock bounced harmlessly off it towards the ground.

She wasn't even conscious, and the power inside her was still protecting them.

No one dared to try and follow; not even the brother of the man he'd murdered in cold blood.

Killure glanced down at his master as he leapt into the air and spread his wings to fly, and silently marvelled. He'd never heard of a Designer being able to do something like this before. Heal? Sure. But create energy shields? Never.

When she'd first told him to cover them both with his wings, he hadn't trusted her. In fact, he was certain that she was trying to save her own hide and allow him to die, using him as a shield.

But for a reason that even he couldn't understand, he'd done it anyway. Perhaps it was his disregard for his own life, but more likely, it was based on everything he'd seen since being sold to her.

She'd never regarded him with distain, or treated him like he was less than her—despite the fact that he was.

She'd never even hit him, and heaven knew he'd said plenty enough rude things to her to deserve it. She'd even saved him, for some unfathomable reason, despite the fact that it could cost her everything. Why would she risk that on him?

Killure's other masters always roughed him up whenever they were bored. And despite the fact that he could have easily and effortlessly snapped their necks in half a second, he never did, because that would ensure his own death through the bonding chip, and that would make his efforts meaningless. Killing one monster wouldn't bring down a society of monsters—a new, crueller one would only rise up and take its place.

Killure's home was gone. His people were gone.

There was nothing left. No one left.

Until she came along with those big, glossy green eyes and doll-like face, and showed him what kindness was.

He'd intended on killing her that first night. Fantasized about it every time he looked at her, every time she looked at him, and every time she spoke.

He'd known the bonding would kill him, but he didn't care this time. As long as she and the rest of her family died slow, torturous deaths, and then burned, he would die happily knowing he ruined any chance of them coming back to life. He'd make a difference.