Page 176 of Oathbreaker

I pick up the pace, rushing back to the helicopters. Misha and my son are already there, and August sits wide-eyed in Leo’s seat.

“Where is Leo?” I yell over the sound of the accelerating blades.

“He went inside to the rest of them,” Misha says. I don’t have time to respond before Misha throws a headset at me and we’re up in the air.

We leave Amelia Manor as if nothing happened despite the tank rolling up the driveway and gunning down more people as they spill out of my house. Later, I know Misha will send people to clean up the bodies.

No one will ask questions about the people killed.

But Blair’s death...that one will be harder to cover.

Winter’s eyes flutter open, slowly focusing on my face.

“I promise I’m okay,” she says, her voice hoarse. “It’s just a little cut. The sight of blood makes me….”

She looks at her shoulder, grimacing when she tries to lift it for better assessment in the inconsistent moonlight. She looks back at me. “I’m a little sensitive to the sight of blood.”

Misha banks left in the direction of his compound, and Winter groans when the movement jostles her.

“Hospital,” I bark.

“No,” Misha says in a flat tone.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” I grip Winter tighter, and she lets out a yip of protest.

“Use your brain, Brigham. Your home was just attacked. Do you think you’ll be safe at a hospital? I have a full hospital at my home, including excellent healthcare providers. She will do a lot better there.”

I stare at the side of Misha’s face, unsure what to do. All I know is I’m three seconds away from hijacking this helicopter.

This whole situation is confusing and angering. I don’t know who knows what, who has what, which side is right or wrong, or if there are sides at all.

“I’m okay, H.” Her voice is soft over the headset, and I look down at her. “We’re okay.” Her lips tremble. “She barely clipped me. And….”

Her hand goes to her stomach, and she bites her lip. “Misha’s right. I don’t know up from down or left from right.”

I flex my fingers and try to keep calm, even though they are coated with blood. Her blood.

“I trust you,” Winter says. She places her bloody hand over mine.

She trusts me. I will make sure she never has a reason not to.

“I saw you, you know. At Isla Cara when I was a kid,” I say, not taking my eyes off Winter’s hand covering mine.

Silence. Then Misha says, “I know.”

I inhale deeply. “You were with them.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“Hunter, I was never with them. One thing you’ll need to learn quickly is that you cannot trust your eyes, and everything you know about your life is wrong.”

I move my gaze to where my son sits. August’s eyes flutter, rapidly twitching from left to right as we pass over trees.

How can I decide what’s best when I don’t know what we’re fighting against?

“Well, everything except maybe her,” he adds. When I turn back to him, he nods to Winter’s still form.

A minute later, we touch down at Misha’s compound and the place is alive with activity.

Without exchanging words, Misha exits the helicopter, and I follow suit. After a brief examination of the helicopter, Misha walks through a short line of people who command his attention. A kind-looking woman with soft features approaches August, handing him a new tablet and talking with him in soft tones.

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