Chapter 50

• When you see that person standing there with a gun loaded with silver bullets, managing to aim it squarely at yourself, you start questioning things, indeed. It makes you think about all the decisions you've made that have led up to that exact moment, and it forces you to confront truths you never thought you'd face. For instance, I realized in that moment that I didn't know Dallas well enough to be sure if he was going to pull the trigger or not. I did not know what he was thinking or what desperation had led him to where he was. And even in the event he should have been the one to fire the trigger, then Ethan would downright kill him, and then he (Ryker) would be deprived of his mate. I knew that once Dallas made the decision to pull that gun, there wasn't going to be a happy ending here for him. This could not point to any good end.
• I could feel Ethan's anxiety rising with every second that passed, and it wasn’t hard to see why. It was aimed straight at me, at the one he loved the most, and he was struggling with each and every instinct to keep himself from going off the deep end. His guardian tendencies were in full play, and it was easy to see that he desired to interpose himself between me and the peril by the manner in which he was approaching me. He walked very slowly and cautiously, lest he should antagonize Dallas. The least thing he wanted was to startle him and get the gun to go off. But his movements were marked by Dallas almost at once. His eyes grew small, and his arm grew straight, and next he turned the gun on Ethan and ordered him to quit making motions.
• “Ethan. Order him to drop the fucking gun.” I mind-linked him, and I spoke to him with urgency and desperation in the loud voice that second linking gave my words. I stared, keeping my breath held, watching Ethan as his Alpha essence started to beam up and come forwards. I saw Dallas begin to perspire, the momentum of the Alpha charge grow quick and shallow and strangled in his throat as the burden of his dispatch came down upon him like a leaden weight. He began to tremble, and his hands were visibly shaking as he tried to keep the gun up. The tension was reflected on his face.