Chapter 927:

He bared his teeth. “Die!” he roared, squeezing the trigger.

But before the shot rang out, a deep, guttural growl rippled through the air. It came from right behind him.

A wave of hot breath washed over his neck, thick with the stench of raw meat and something untamed.

The man froze. His fingers stiffened around the trigger. Slowly, his arm dropped, though terror kept him rooted in place.

Rylie turned just in time to hear the sound—bones snapping under brute force.

The guard’s scream never fully left his throat. It died in an instant.

Shaba loomed over him, one massive paw pinning the man’s body to the marble floor.

Blood streaked the lion’s mane as he lifted his head, golden eyes sweeping the hall like a predator surveying his domain.

The entire room went still.

Both Costa fighters and the remaining guards stood frozen, transfixed by the primal sight.

When the man stopped moving, Shaba released him and padded forward. He didn’t linger to feed—his focus had shifted. With a thunderous snarl, he lunged at the nearest security men.

Several Costa members flinched, raising their weapons instinctively.

“Don’t shoot!” Rylie shouted, her voice cutting through the smoke.

Her command alone might not have held them, but Deandre’s followed—firm and unyielding. “Stand down!”

Grudgingly, they lowered their guns.

Only then did they realize the lion wasn’t rampaging at random. He was deliberate, hunting only the security guards and ignoring every Costa fighter in sight.

The chaos dwindled as ammunition ran dry. The battle ended not with gunfire, but with the beast’s roars driving their enemies into retreat.

After Shaba brought down several more men, Rylie suddenly realized where he was headed—the warehouse.

She sprinted after him without hesitation.

At that same moment, Samson emerged from the warehouse with his wounded daughter in his arms. His face was pale, his steps uneven.

Shaba halted a few paces away. His growl was low and uncertain. His golden eyes locked onto the girl in Samson’s embrace, the sound more a question than a threat.

Ella stirred faintly. Remembering Rylie’s earlier words, she fought hard to stay conscious. Hearing the familiar rumble, she blinked, a weak smile forming on her pale lips.

“Shaba… are you okay?” she whispered.

Samson’s throat tightened. Tears welled in his eyes. Regret crashed over him like a wave.

He had brought Shaba here, thinking it would save them, never realizing the cost it would carry.

Shaba prowled closer, restless and uneasy. He could sense the girl’s weakness. His claws scraped against the tiles as he circled, growling softly, his tail flicking in agitation.

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