“I’ll kill him,” he said softly. “I’ll gut him open and tear out his organs, and I’ll make certain he lives long enough to endure the torture. When I’m done with him, he’ll be begging for death. He will die, and he will die of his own agony.” Kamran reached out an unsteady hand to touch her, his fingers skimming the tender bruise on her cheek. “You may depend upon it.”