CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THIRTEEN
The atmosphere in the living room of Alec changed. Gone was the light airiness of everyone. In its place was pure bloodlust; sheer murderous rage was seeping from each and everyone in the room.
All the hesitation they've previously felt, the fear of starting a war, and most of all the thought of not coming back alive were blown away. Their eyes, Leto noticed, were blazing with fury and unfathomable resolved; it was as if divine intervention would be the only thing that could stop them.
"I reckon it's time," Clinton stated, his voice unnervingly calm.
Alec glanced at him over his shoulder before his eyes returned to the figure of his unconscious sister on his television. His blood boiled just seeing it. He wanted blood in his hands. He wanted all those who did it to her pay.
And the only payment he would be willing to accept was their lives.
Nothing less.
