Page 76 of Heirs of Havoc

Vlad stops, his back turned to me. “When he met you, everything changed.” He moves towards the entrance of the living room as I glance at the hospital-grade handiwork on my hand. These boys are full of surprises.

“Vlad, wait.” Blame it on the shock, or whatever moment we’re sharing, but I rise from my seat. Moving towards him at the bottom of the steps, he turns around, his muscles bulging through his shirt.

“What is it?” He glances at my hand. “Are you still in pain?"

I feel more than pain. More than agony. My hand comes to his chest when I'm in front of him, but all I can say is, “Thank you.” My heart races. Am I nervous? Scared? My eyes move to the wall behind him. “Do you think they’ll come for me? Here?”

“Not with us here,” Vlad reassures. “Promise.”

His eyes land on mine and while the house is silent, there’s a rumble. A shaking between us. A massive spark. It could be the alcohol or the near-death experience, but I’m surprised when his lips come to mine.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

If Feliks’ kisses are heaven, Vlad’s are hell.

Rough, frantic and fervent, but it calms me. An anesthetic to my pain. All my tension and worries spill into warm tranquillity as cold leaves my skin. My rapid heartbeat settles. Either that or it's beating so fast I can't feel it anymore. I’m not thinking about Feliks, Dom, or Lev. All I need is Vlad Reznikov.

A growl rips through him before he pushes me against the wall. The painting behind me drops to the floor with a thud as loud as my heart. A moan escapes me, falling deeper into his lips.

Then he pulls back, his hands coming to my arms.

"Vlad ..." I take a step forward, not wanting the pain to come back. The bittersweet taste of him still tingles my tongue. “Please.”

Those deep blues dart around my face like he’s taking in my all, heat dancing between us.

I know I'm drunk. Confused. Scared.

But I know I want him.

Vlad tilts his head towards the stairs, his eyes dropping. “Feliks’ bed is free.”

That’s it.

That’s all he says, his kisses still tingling my lips like a sparkler. And now, I’m more confused than ever before.

“Come on, Merlo. You’re drunk. Time for you to sleep that off.” My shoulders fall with my heart still pumping, but I don't stand there. I can't. I force my shaky legs to climb the steps.

Vlad follows behind me, but I can feel the heat coming off him. And it takes everything in me not to wrap myself in him again.

“That can’t happen,” he says, reading my mind. We stop at Feliks' open door. “As much as I want you pinned beneath me, Merlo, you’re playing with fucking fire. That won't happen again. Ever. There’s no chance—”

“Okay!” Moving into Feliks’ room, cold washes over me. “I get it.” My chest tightens, my fingers against my lips, but being in Feliks’ room makes me remember everything I tried to forget. I'm alone.

Please, be okay.

Is being here good for me?

Getting entangled in their mess?

In their bodies?

I don’t look back as I move closer to Feliks’ bed. If I look back at Vlad, it’s only going to spark more desire, and I heard him loud and clear.

When I crawl into Feliks’ bed, the room spins as I find the pillow. Bringing my knees to my chest, I curl into a ball before the bed dips behind me.

“Get some rest.” Vlad’s arm comes around me, pulling me into him. His warmth soothes me, his rigid chest against my back. That heat turns to comfort. A warm, soothing solace. “Everything will be fine.”

So he says, but the bullet going into the painting replays in my head. “I almost died today, Vlad.” That makes me want to puke, but I pull his muscular arm further around me.

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