Because I intend to say these words to her for the rest of our lives…until they are etched into her memory and inked across her heart.
Just as her name is carved into mine.
Chapter 30
Kirill
I wake to a violent crash from downstairs. The sound is so sudden and loud it stirs Stella from her sleep too.
“What’s going on?” Stella yawns beside me, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
“Stay here,dusha moya,” I order, pressing a tender kiss to the smooth curve of her shoulder before jumping out of bed, and dragging on my boxers. “I’ll be right back.”
I bolt from the bedroom and take the stairs two at a time, only to freeze halfway down.
Misha is on top of Sasha.
Not arguing.
Not shoving.
Beating him. Beating Sasha into a bloody pulp.
His fists come down in a blind, savage rhythm—bone against bone, wet and devastating. Sasha doesn’t even fight back. He just tries to shield his face as blood splatters across the floor.
“The fuck?!” Kostya shouts as he barrels in beside me. “Holy shit!”
Realizing that Misha will only stop when Sasha is no longer breathing, we launch ourselves down the last few steps and grab Misha by the arms, hauling them behind his back just as he tries to land another crushing blow.
He thrashes like a wild animal, screaming in Russian, veins bulging, grief turning him feral.
“The fuck is going on?!” I roar, struggling to keep my grip as he surges against us with terrifying strength.
“You took her from me!” Misha shrieks, voice shredded raw. “Bring her back! Bring her back!”
Sasha coughs, bloody and barely upright, one eye already swelling shut. “We can’t, brother,” he chokes out. “What you’re asking…we can’t, Misha. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Misha lets out a sound that isn’t quite a scream and not quite a sob.
And that’s when the full weight of it hits me.
He’s not fighting Sasha.
He’s fighting reality.
And he’s losing.
“Bring her back to me! Bring her home!” Misha keeps screaming, his body surging against our grip with frightening strength. It’s getting harder to hold him—harder to keep him from killing Sasha like he seems hell-bent on doing.
“What is he talking about, Sasha?!” I shout over my brother’s madness.
“He wants us to bring Elena home,” Sasha rasps, his voice broken and raw.
Kostya looks at me, sheer panic in his eyes.
Fuck.
Did Misha forget that his wife is dead? Is his grief so powerful that his mind has simply erased the truth?
