Eve reached for him, her touch light against his knuckles. "You don't have to do this," she whispered.
"Yes, he does," Carver interrupted, amused. "Or do you want to take his place, sweetheart?"
Alexander's control snapped. He lunged—fists colliding with Carver's men before they could react. Chaos erupted. Blood. Shouts. The sickening crunch of bones breaking beneath his fury.
But Carver had planned for this.
Pain exploded in the back of Alexander's skull. His vision blurred. The floor tilted beneath him. And the last thing he saw before darkness swallowed him was Eve's terrified face as she was dragged away.