Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
My eyelids are too heavy to peel open as I brace myself at a sharp pain in my abdomen as I try to sit up. I realize then that I can’t. It’s dim in the room, but I make out the outline of Lena, thanks to the bedside lamp. As I gather my wits and thoughts, I see I’m in a spare room at one of Anya’s mansions.
I’m tired and my mind is foggy, but I think back to the last thing I can remember. Cinita. I’ve never hated or despised anyone more in my entire life. I kill because I’m good at it, but I wanted her dead, destroyed in every way, so Lena is never at risk again.
Lena. I gaze down at her and brush a lock of her hair from her face as she snuggles beside me. And I recall her horror, the shock of seeing the monster that I am.
I’m a selfish bastard, and after seeing her like that, realizing how easy it is for someone to slip through the cracks, I know the better part of me should let her go. But I just fucking can’t.
What if she hates me now? What if she wants nothing to do with me? Shouldn’t I free her?
She twitches under my hand and murmurs sleepily, “Aleksandr.”
“Yes, sweetheart,” I reply, and my voice is raspy, most likely from sleeping.
Her eyes fly open, and she goes to move, but I keep my hand on her face to hold her in place. I wince at the movement.
“Don’t move!” she says, almost hysterical. Her eyes dart back and forth as she looks at me, as if shocked that I’m really here with her. Then she bursts into tears. “I thought you were dead.”
“Lena.”
“Don’t you ‘Lena’ me!” she snaps angrily as she clings to me tighter, and I’m abundantly aware of the burning in my stomach. I vaguely remember Cinita’s knife stabbing into me, but I was on such a rampage to erase her from this world, that it was overshadowed by my rage.
“You… you…” She sobs, not able to finish.
“You’re okay?” I ask, and her eyes widen as she springs up, propping her head on her hand.
“Are you fucking crazy? No, I’m not okay, Aleksandr. I saw you get stabbed and I thought you were going to die. You haven’t woken up for three days,” she spits as tears spill over her cheeks. I rub my thumb under eye, wiping them, willing them away.
“Well, I haven’t been getting much sleep lately since you keep me awake at all hours,” I say.
She stares at me in disbelief. “Alek, this isn’t a time to joke!” She grabs her pillow as if to hit me but then remembers I’m wounded.
A small laugh escapes me, but I’m paying for it immediately as I try to sit up. “Don’t move too much,” she says but helps me.
I love her. Love waking up with her by my side. But it’s not fair to her. I didn’t want my world touching her like that. She was so pure in comparison.
“You know I love you,” I say, and she nods slowly. “But I can never have you in that situation again.”
“What are you saying?” she asks, confused. And I give her a pointed look. She knows exactly what I’m saying.
“No,” she snaps defiantly. “So I get a bodyguard. Or I learn self-defense. Or you teach me how to hold a gun. Or—”
“Lena,” I say, cutting her off. “If it weren’t for Will, I might’ve been too late.”
“But you weren’t,” she’s quick to say. “You’re a selfish prick, so stop pretending to be selfless.”
I laugh but quickly cut it off as searing-hot pain flares in my abdomen. Lena throws back the blanket and is in shock when she sees my bandages stained red. “Fuck, you’ve opened your wound. I’ll call the doctor.”
I grab her wrist. “No. I just want you, alone, for a few more minutes,” I say as I pull her to me, and she awkwardly leans against my chest. I need her warmth. Need the soothing of her calm presence. Embracing the fact once again that the thoughts and vile, nauseating tension that once sat at the pit of my stomach is gone.
Only for her.
“Alek, it was really scary,” she whispers, then begins to cry again, and I hate that I’ve done this to her.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”
“You mean it?” She sobs. “No more talk of breaking up or dumb shit like that,” she says, wiping her eyes.
“Who said anything about breaking up? I was just waiting for you to think that having a bodyguard in my stead was your own brilliant idea.”
She startles at that. “You really are an asshole. Do you know that?” she says, then sobs harder.
I kiss the top of her head and realize my vision is beginning to fade in and out. Okay, maybe my wound is bleeding more than I thought. But holding her is worth it.