Page 43 of Twisted Princess

But it’s not deep enough to kill him. Regardless of the fact that Miko wouldn’t hesitate, I’m more resistant to killing my brother than I might have been in the past.

Still, it’s the only way I’m going to keep Mel and her daughter safe.

“Looks like my baby brother’s ready to play,” Miko says, bringing his hand away to see how much blood is on it. And a wicked grin stretches across his face as he digs into his pockets for his own knives.

“Don’t do it, Miko. You know you won’t win,” I warn, staying low to the ground as I slowly start to circle him. My path carries me between him and Mel, forcing him farther away from her.

And because Miko’s no idiot, he’s taking me seriously now.

Mirroring my stance, he adjusts his grip on his weapons, and he dances back and forth between the balls of his feet.

“You’re going to have to kill me if you want to save them, mladshiy brat,” he taunts.

“Or you could leave,” I state flatly.

“Nah. You won’t do it. You never could. That’s why you left the family, remember? You didn’t want to be that heartless anymore.” Miko’s venom cracks across the space between us like a whip, and I know he’s going to leave me with no choice.

“Miko. Don’t,” I warn again, shifting to match his movements.

Releasing a violent snarl, my brother springs from his crouch, closing the distance between us with such speed, that I don’t have time to think.

All I can do is react.

One would think, in a fight like this, that having superior size and strength would give a man the advantage. But when it comes to knives, speed and dexterity are far more important.

And as quick as Miko is, he’s not as fast as I am.

I dip low, my knives starting at his Achilles tendon. And I slash as I rotate, opening wounds across his calves, thighs, and back. He hits the ground hard, hamstrung so quickly he didn’t even brace for impact.

But still, that doesn’t stop him. Turning as he slumps onto the floor, he launches a knife straight toward my throat. I knock it aside with one of my own. And before he has a chance to use the other, I cut clean through his fingers.

The blade goes careening away, leaving Miko without a weapon.

Snarling in pain, he grips the bloody stumps as he glares up at me.

Slowly, I lower myself to his eye level, gripping his hair with one hand as I hold my blade to his throat.

Miko releases a cold, half-crazed laugh as he stares into my soul. “You’re as ice-cold as always, little brother. You haven’t changed a bit.”

Clenching my jaw until my teeth groan, I give one violent yank.

And I watch as the life drains from my brother’s eyes, his blood soaking my floor.

I release his hair as soon as I’m sure he’s dead, and his body slumps to the ground.

“Gleb,” Mel gasps, rushing forward. “You’re hurt.”

My eyes linger on Miko’s lifeless form, his final words haunting me.

And only after Mel starts to tug my shirt up over my ribs do I turn my head to look at her.

Peeling back my bandage, Mel tsks. “He busted your stitches.”

I nod, fighting down the wave of revulsion I’m not accustomed to after killing someone.

“What did he mean by that?” Mel asks as she continues to attend to my freshly opened wound.

As the bandage comes off, I can tell it’s not a pretty sight. Mel pales slightly, and I glance down. A dark purple bruise is already starting to spread across my ribs, and at least four of her perfectly placed sutures have torn through my skin. The gash now vaguely resembles a grotesque version of a crooked, snaggle-toothed smile.

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