Chapter 22

Luna's body convulsed with each impact, her lithe form contorting under the onslaught. Her eyes widened in terror and agony.

Despite the overwhelming pain and fatigue, she gathered what little strength she had left and threw a wild punch at Reyes' jaw, aiming for his exposed chin. He ducked effortlessly, evading the weak blow. However, in doing so, he opened himself up for another opportunity.

Luna lunged forward, grabbing his leg and pulling him down onto the ground. His momentum carried him over her, landing on top of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, trapping him between her spread legs. Her hands reached for his neck, digging her nails into his jugular vein.

Reyes roared in pain, his grip loosening momentarily. Luna took advantage of the brief window of opportunity and bit down hard on his neck, her teeth digging into his flesh as she struggled to choke him.

His vision began to blur, and he could feel himself losing consciousness. With one final burst of strength, he managed to free one hand, grabbing her hair again. He yanked forcefully, causing her head to snap back violently. Blood flowed freely from the wounds on her scalp, painting a gruesome trail down her back.

But it was too late; Luna's actions had already rendered him unconscious. She released her hold on his neck, allowing blood to pool in his throat. His body went limp, and he collapsed beside her, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

Her vision was spinning from the blows and blood loss, slowly managed to stand up. Her body ached everywhere, and she felt dizzy, but she couldn't afford to show any signs of weakness. She reached down, grabbing the discarded knife from earlier and carefully slashed through the remaining portions of her torn dress, revealing her bruised and battered figure.

With trembling hands, she pulled on her torn bra and panties, wincing at the pain as they stretched over her sensitive and swollen folds. Her breasts were covered in cuts and bruises, nipples erect and hardened with fear and adrenaline. Blood trickled down her thighs, staining the filthy pavement crimson.

Staggering towards Reyes, she knelt beside him, her eyes cold and unforgiving. He snored softly, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. Without mercy, she grabbed the knife again and plunged it into his eye socket, twisting it violently. Blood spurted forth, painting a macabre mask across his features.

As Luna twisted the knife, Reyes' eyes snapped open, his expression transitioning from unconsciousness to unadulterated terror. Blood pooled in his eye socket, covering his face and chest in a thick, sticky layer.

His body convulsed violently, throwing him into another fit of spasms as he choked on his own blood. His limbs thrashed wildly, nails scratching frantically at the ground, leaving trails of crimson in their wake.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, his movements slowed down, his struggles subsiding. He lay still, lifeless, his eyes staring blankly ahead.

Luna removed the bloody knife from his eye socket, and it quivered in her hand, dripping with his blood. Her breathing was labored, and she leaned against the wall for support, her legs threatening to give out beneath her.

Her vision spun like a whirlwind of colors and shapes, stumbled towards El Jaguar's body. She knelt beside him, her face contorted in a mix of relief and horror. His chest rose and fell slowly, indicating that he was indeed still alive.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, she reached out tentatively, brushing aside some debris covering his face. Her fingers grazed against his cheek, and she let out a shaky breath of relief. He wasn't dead!

His eyes fluttered open, and he groaned softly, his voice raspy and hoarse. "Luna," he managed to croak out, his gaze flickering between her battered form and the lifeless form of Reyes lying nearby.

She helped El Jaguar sit up, her body aching from the brutal fight they'd just endured. She remained vigilant, keeping an eye on Reyes' lifeless body, ensuring he didn't somehow miraculously regain consciousness.

"It's over," she panted, her voice hoarse from the ordeal. "Reyes and El Toro are both dead, and so is Isabella, I killed them."

El Jaguar's eyes slowly focused on her, his expression a mixture of disbelief and relief. He reached out, his hand trembling as it brushed against her cheek. "I knew you could do it," he managed to croak out, his accent thicker than usual.

She nodded, unable to speak above a whisper. Their gazes locked for a moment, filled with unspoken emotions. It was over—their long-standing feud had finally come to an end.

Luna leaned in, her lips brushing against his temple, and then slowly traversing down to his ear. "We did it," she whispered softly, her breath tickling his earlobe. "We finally won."

Her words carried a newfound sense of closeness between them, as if the shared experience had somehow brought them closer than ever before. As their lips met in a passionate kiss, their tongues tangled, exploring each other's mouths hungrily. Their bodies pressed together, skin against skin, their wounds rubbing against each other painfully but also in a strange way, almost eroticizing the violence they'd just endured.

Their kiss deepened, they lost themselves in the momentary respite from the horrors they'd just endured. Their hands roamed freely over each other's battered forms, tracing tenderly over cuts and bruises that would soon fade away, replaced by scars to mark their shared history.

Luna pulled away first, their faces flushed and panting heavily. "Let's save the rest for later, we should get out of here first," she managed to croak out, her voice still hoarse from the battle. She reached out a trembling hand, helping El Jaguar stand up.

Luna and El Jaguar, their bodies still trembling from the fight, slowly made their way towards the exit of the alleyway. Her eyes widened in shock as she saw Isabella standing there, waiting for them with a gun. She couldn't believe it—she had thought she'd killed her!

Before she could react, Isabella fired the gun, and El Jaguar's body convulsed violently as a bullet tore through his chest. Blood spurted forth from the wound, painting a gruesome crimson stain on both of their faces.