I nod to him before stepping out into the hallway and making my way down it as I hear men stumbling up the stairs. As I pass by my bedroom, I pause and peer through the open door, my eyes lingering on the empty cage.
Alina.
Being away from her leaves a hollow in my chest that won’t close.
“Sir! They’re coming!”
I snap out of my thoughts and duck into the room across the hallway just in time as enemies rush through the smoke.
Bullets whistle down the hallway toward them, shouts and groans ringing out from the thick smoke, followed by thuds as bodies drop.
I lean out of the room and fire at any shadow that I can see through the smoke, my heart pounding quickly as more and more keep coming, breaking through the smoke and launching themselves at the closest doorways, tackling my men or firing at them.
One of them slams Valentin against the door, but he doesn’t get to do anything else before I bury a bullet in the back of his head.
Valentin shoves him away and punches another in the face, close combat breaking out up and down the hallway.
“Sir, stay inside the room! It’s not safe out there!” someone says.
I brush him off and launch myself at a red-haired enemy, taking us both down to the ground. My fist strikes his jaw multiple times, my adrenaline dulling the pain. Sheer fury drives me at this point.
Not survival. Not strategy. Just rage.
Just the anger that this is happening. That this separated me from the woman who broke pastmydefenses.
I’m going to take as many of these bastards as I can down with me.
“Arev Garakian has been spotted on the stairs. He’s lethal so keep your eyes open!” someone reports.
That sick fuck is in my goddamn house. No doubt he’s come to try and take me out himself.
I jam the blade of my knife into the red-haired man’s throat, watching him claw at it for a few seconds before the light fades from his eyes. I start to wrap my fingers around the hilt, but pain explodes through my head, making me topple over.
Blood seeps through my fingers from a cut on my scalp as I roll onto my back, looking up into the crazed eyes of the man I was just warned about.
“Gavriil Morozov,” he says with a thick Armenian accent. He rips my own knife out of the man’s throat and spins it around in his hand, a sick grin crossing his face that makes me feel nothing but dread. “I was hoping I’d be the one to kill you.”
42
Alina
Even stealinga few minutes of peace with Dominik makes shame churn in my stomach.
I can’t stop thinking about Gavriil and what will happen to him in this war that he’s determined to fight alone.
Things maybe could’ve been different if Gavriil had apologized to Dom, if he hadn’t chosen to push us away. If he had come with us.
Instead, the three of us were broken apart, and something is missing in my chest that makes me feel utterly empty.
Even while tucked in Dominik’s protective, but tense arms.
“Are you okay?” Dominik asks me before pressing a gentle kiss against my shoulder.
I look over my shoulder at him, my heart aching. I’m so glad that we’re together, but I hate that I’m still thinking about his brother. If I had things my way, I wouldn’t choose between them.
I selfishly want Dom and Gavriil—even knowing that’s impossible.
“I…I don’t think we should’ve left Gavriil,” I blurt out as I roll over to face him. “I just, I have this feeling that he’s not going to survive this war, and he knows it.”
