“But Hope remains the priority,” I instruct. “Spokane is not a dead end. It is the last point they were confident enough to leave a truck visible. That means nearby roads, motels, safehouses,and every shadow they think they can hide in. I want eyes on everything. I want every Sokolov runner tracked, every courier flagged, and every name they have used in the last year pulled and reviewed. She has not vanished. Someone saw her, moved her, or heard the order. We force the truth out one broken body at a time.”
Anya's expression tightens again, worry deepening the lines around her eyes. She walks to the window and pushes aside the curtain, revealing the world beyond. Snow drifts in lazy spirals between the pines, the flakes catching the cabin lights as they fall. Vega's tail gives one soft thump against the floor as he watches her, then returns to resting at his paws.
She turns back to me slowly. “Brat, you cannot keep Sage safe from here.”
“She stays,” I counter. The edge in my voice pushes too hard, so I bring it back under control. “I will not cage what is mine.”
“It is not a cage if it keeps her breathing,” Nikolay mutters with quiet conviction, his eyes meeting mine with blunt directness.
I keep my expression still, muscles controlled, and features neutral, but something twists beneath the surface. The image of Sage half-awake in the soft lamplight flashes through my mind unbidden. The bruise near her ribs, yellowing now but still visible. The slight tremble in her hands when she tried to hide her pain, wrapping her fingers around a mug of tea to disguise the shaking. The way she flinches when unexpected sounds break the silence, her body remembering threats even when her mind tries to forget.
I am keeping her here because she feels close enough to guard, within reach if something goes wrong. But I am also keeping herin a place enemies now know exists, a location marked on maps that should have remained hidden.
Before I can answer, Nikolay's phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out and glances at the screen, his expression darkening instantly.
“It is Kolya,” he mutters, his thumb swiping across the screen. “There is a fire at the transport office.”
Anya stiffens, her hand moving to her throat in a reflex she cannot hide. Vega rises to his feet in one fluid motion, his ears pricked forward and alert.
“Put him on speaker,” I instruct, moving closer to the table.
Nikolay taps the screen, and Kolya's voice fills the room, sirens wailing behind him and men shouting orders. The sound fills the cabin, drowning out the peaceful crackling of the fire.
“Someone tossed a firebomb at the front entrance,” he reports, his words clipped and rushed. “No injuries, but the building is burning fast. They left a Sokolov crest on the wall.”
Heat spreads across my spine, radiating outward until it settles in my chest and shoulders. But my voice remains level despite the rage building beneath the surface. “Pull the fire crews back. That building is lost.”
Kolya inhales sharply on the other end, the sound cutting through the background noise. “Understood.”
“You will torch everything they own except their families,” I order, my tone slicing through the room. “Leave them with nothing but ashes.”
Anya’s body jerks, but she steadies quickly, fury simmering beneath her calm. “The Sokolovs pushed too far,” she growls under her breath. “Keeping Sage here gives them exactly what they want. Seattle is the only place they cannot touch.”
The silence that follows fills the room completely, thick and heavy. Even the sirens seem muted through the phone, fading into background noise that no longer matters. Nikolay and Anya exchange a glance, some wordless communication passing between them that I do not interrupt.
Vega presses against my leg, his solid warmth grounding me. I lower my hand to his head briefly, my fingers sinking into his thick fur. The familiar texture steadies my breathing, pulls me back from the edge of decisions made in anger rather than strategy.
I straighten, rolling my shoulders back and setting my jaw. “Prepare the estate.”
Anya releases a quiet breath, relief softening the angle of her shoulders. Her hands uncurl at her sides, her fingers relaxing.
Nikolay nods once, already pulling up contacts on his phone. “Security will triple patrols. The staff will have the estate ready by the time we arrive.”
The decision settles through the room like a stone dropped into deep water, the ripples spreading outward until they touch everything. Seattle represents fortress walls and established networks, layers of protection I cannot replicate here in the mountains. But it also means exposing Sage to a world she has only glimpsed from the edges.
Vega pads to my side, his muzzle bearing a scar he earned protecting Sage. His dark eyes hold mine with a quietunderstanding that needs no words. He knows where we are going and why. He always does.
“Tell Otets we are coming,” I murmur. “Whatever follows us, we face it there.”
6
SAGE
I wake before I expected to, my body tangled in the quilt and my pulse thumping in that restless way that tells me sleep didn't do much good. The ache around my ribs pulses when I breathe too deeply, but it's tolerable today, a faint reminder instead of a warning.
The bed smells like cedar and the faintest trace of Luka's cologne. That shouldn't be comforting, but it is. I stretch slowly, testing each movement before committing to it. My shoulders protest first, then my lower back joins in with a dull complaint that makes me wince. The room comes into focus gradually, details emerging from the early morning haze.
Vega sleeps on the rug by the door, his chest rising and falling in calm, even breaths. His ears twitch when I move, responding to the rustle of sheets and the creak of the mattress, but he doesn't lift his head. His paws flex slightly against the woven fibers, and I wonder what he dreams about when he's this relaxed.
