Perry's POV
"Damn it! Are you trying to kill each other!? Do it when I am not around! I am not cleaning up your mess and get myself killed!" Flynn gasped, his chest heaving.
He positioned himself between me and Timothy, while the royal gamma lay crumpled on the ground in a pool of his own blood. The bastard wouldn't die, but he'd need time to recover.
I remained upright, blood still seeping from the wound on my shoulder, but otherwise intact.
The rage in my eyes had dimmed, though I still glared at Timothy for his boldness in challenging me. If our history didn't run so deep, what he'd done could be seen as rebellion—a death sentence.
Still, Flynn was right to believe I wouldn't cross that line, no matter how far gone I seemed.
"Leave," I commanded, my voice cutting through the air as I moved toward Timothy.
"I'll handle him." Flynn jumped between us, blocking my path to the royal gamma.
"You. Leave."
