Not true silence.
Just the absence of enemy resistance.
Every last one of them lay dead.
The warehouse had transformed into a grotesque tableau of carnage.
And yet—their leader escaped.
My stomach dropped at the realization. The masked man.”
The monster who had stood over me just hours earlier, injecting himself with something clear and vile while I lay bound on the marble slab he’d dragged into the center of the room.
“Watch,” he’d ordered, gripping my chin. “You should understand what you do to men.”
The drug had made him manic.
Unhinged.
He had laughed as it coursed through his veins, pupils blown wide behind the mask. His hands had trembled with anticipation.
And then he’d taken his time.
Forcing me to watch the syringe empty.
Forcing me to watch his transformation.
Forcing me to endure what came next.
Now he had slipped into the shadows during the chaos.
Even Ruslan’s fury hadn’t caught him.
“Find him!” Ethan had barked, his voice faint and distorted in my ear.
My brothers had rushed to me.
Their faces—God—their faces.
Blood-smeared. Sweat-soaked. Eyes wild with fear when they looked at me.
Dario had reached me first, slicing through the ropes at my wrists. The cords fell away, but the damage remained. My skin was torn open in deep grooves, raw and swollen, as if I’d been branded.
Ethan had crouched in front of me. “Elena... look at me.”
I tried.
My vision blurred.
When they cut the ropes at my ankles, my legs buckled. Dario caught me under the arms before I hit the ground.
And then I felt it.
Warm.
Slow.
A trickle down my inner thighs.
