Page 122 of Betrayal and Vows

My knees wobble. I don’t hear the priest at first. The world becomes a low buzz, like static underwater.

But somehow, I speak when I’m told. I bow. I lift my head. The ceremony moves forward.

We circle the analogion once.

Only once.

Because then—I see him.

My legs turn to pillars.

I can’t move.

Anton.

He’s strolling down the center aisle like a demon torn straight out of hell.

Blood trails from his temple. His knuckles are raw. One eye is almost swollen shut. His shirt is ripped and stained. There’s a gun in his hand.

And he’s walking like a man with nothing left to lose.

And he’s never looked more beautiful.

My avenging angel.

I knew he wouldn’t leave me.

Gasps ripple through the pews. The priest stumbles back, clutching his cross. Someone screams.

Mikhail spins, growling in Russian about failures and dead men.

Behind Anton, Dmitri strolls. Unlike the murderous expression on Anton’s beaten face, Dmitri is smiling. I notice he’s also sporting a black eye.

He looks happy.

If there was time, I would consider Dmitri’s expression, but there isn’t time.

Chaos explodes.

“Kill him!” Mikhail roars. “Kill them both!”

“No!” I scream.

I will not watch the love of my life be killed.

I can’t do it.

I lunge for Mikhail but he’s not the one with the gun.

“Stop it!” I shout.

It’s futile.

I recognize how futile it is, but I pummel Mikhail with my fists.

He shoves me off. “Kill them!” He orders his men once again.

I hear more shouting.