I’ll never get the chance to apologize or tell her how much I love her.
I need her to stay strong.
Because I can’t lose her. Not like this.
Especially not to him.
13
Gavriil
Night fallsbefore I finally make it home from our recon mission.
My eyes are heavy with exhaustion, but the thought of Alina keeps me moving. After all, I promised my brother that I would try harder to get her to eat and drink.
I head up the stairs to the second floor, wondering if she’s resting or if she ate any of the food that Valentin left for her before he headed out on patrol earlier.
I’m not optimistic. Not after she watched Dominik take a shot at Petrov.
I push open my bedroom door and walk through the darkness to switch on the nightstand lamp. When soft light fills the room, I glance over at the cage, expecting to see her with her knees curled up to her chest or her green eyes glaring at me through the bars.
But she isn’t doing either of those things.
“Fuck. Alina!” I exclaim at the sight of her sprawled unnaturally on the floor.
I rush around the bed to get to the cage door.
“Alina?Alina!”
She doesn’t budge or make a sound as she lies on her back, her head tilted to the side, the towel wrapped around her thin body coming undone. One of her hands rests on her stomach, while the other is outstretched, fingers splayed out.
My hands fumble with the key as I keep an eye on her, making it take longer than it should to get the damn door open.
Once it is, I hurry over, sinking down to my knees next to her. I cup her cheek, straightening her head before leaning down to place my ear over her lips. A weak exhale drifts from her, but I don’t feel any relief yet.
She’s barely breathing.
My heart pounds as my thoughts rush in a hundred different directions, paralyzing me for a few seconds. What the fuck do I do?
I brush her hair away from her face before pressing the back of my hand against her cheek. She feels cold and clammy. My eyes lower to her lips, my stomach twisting at the sight of how dry and cracked they look.
She’s dehydrated and needs help now. Probably yesterday.
I was so stupid, so certain that she would eventually drink and eat on her own.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Yelena, getting more and more restless and worried with every ring. When she finally picks up the phone, a jumbled mess of Russian comes out of my mouth as I try to explain the situation. I can barely think straight, much less speak. The one thing I’m clear on, “You have to save her!”
“I’m on my way,” Yelena tells me.
I hang up the phone, letting it clatter on the floor next to me. My pulse quickens as I gently cup the back of Alina’s neck, my other hand moving to her wrist so that I can make sure that her heart is still beating.
If she dies…
I can’t even finish that thought.
She lets out a faint noise that borders on a whimper and a groan, and I feel a flicker of hope that she’ll be okay.
I grab the nearby untouched glass of water from the floor and press the edge to her lips and tilt it. “Drink, Alina.”
