My Sworn Brother Was Tortured,But I Am the God of Thunder!

Thomas Harding, the Sunfire Immortal who'd guarded the Sunfire Temple for millennia, finally got bored.

He insisted on dragging me down to the mortal world, said he wanted the full immersive experience of the twenty-first century.

He wore me down until I had no choice but to agree.

The moment we crossed over, he became the long-lost true-born son of an elite family, and I became the precious only child born late in life to the city's most powerful syndicate boss.

When the Harding family took Thomas back, I warned him: if they give you any trouble, we dust off our hands and head straight back to the Ninth Heaven.

He laughed it off. Said what birth parents wouldn't love their own child? Besides, the family's other son had been nothing but friendly. Told me not to worry.

I couldn't talk him out of it, so I let it go.

Then came the day I was about to queue up for my next game, and I felt the signal of Thomas's Immortal Soul shattering.

——

"Double Kill!"

Kill effects blazed across my monitor.

I was reaching for the Enter key to trash-talk the other team when a searing, bone-deep pain ripped through my chest.

This wasn't mortal flesh hurting.

This was a shockwave tearing straight through my Immortal Soul.

I shoved the keyboard away, one hand pressed to my chest, face drained of all color.

Thomas. Thomas Harding. My sworn brother, the Sunfire Immortal, who'd come down to the mortal world with me to live out a human life.

Before we descended, we'd exchanged Fate Sigils. The moment either of us faced mortal danger, the other's soul would receive a distress signal.

Right now, the sigil bound to his life force was cracking apart.

Thomas, who had sworn to me that no birth parents could ever hurt their own child, was dying.

I kicked the gaming chair out of my way, snatched the car keys off the desk, and bolted.

"Harry Driscoll! Bruno Kessler!" My voice tore down the corridor like a thunderclap.

The entire Dunn mansion erupted.

In under thirty seconds, dozens of thick-necked enforcers in black suits came pouring down from every floor, lining up in front of me in tight formation.

"Young Heir!"

My father, Malcolm Dunn, ran the most powerful syndicate in the city. He'd been going legitimate in recent years, but the ferocity in his bones kept every last person from crossing him.

I clenched my jaw. My eyes were murder.

"Gear up. Every brother you can reach, get them here. Now."

"Tonight, we're tearing down the Harding estate."

Bruno hesitated. "Young Heir, the Hardings are one of the biggest names in the capital. If we roll up on them like this..."

"I said move!" My palm cracked against the doorframe so hard the solid wood splintered. "Anything goes wrong, it's on me!"

Fifteen minutes later.

Ten black armored SUVs tore down the highway like a convoy of war machines, blowing through every red light, heading straight for the Harding estate.

In the back seat, I gripped my phone and dialed Thomas's number.

Off.

Still off.

The tearing sensation in my soul grew worse with every second. His life signs were fading fast.

"Faster!" I roared at the driver.

The Harding estate sat halfway up the mountain. Two massive copper gates stood sealed shut, four uniformed guards posted out front.

The driver slowed, reaching for the horn.

I grabbed the wheel and stomped the gas pedal to the floor.

"Ram it."

The copper gates exploded inward with a deafening crash, ripped off their hinges by the armored SUV. Alarms screamed across the estate.

The SUV drifted hard and came to a dead stop in front of the main building.

I kicked the door open, jumped out with a solid steel baseball bat in my fist.

Bruno and Harry poured out behind me with over a hundred men, flooding the grounds, surrounding the Harding mansion in seconds flat.

"Tear it apart."