Ilsa regards Krystiyan’s body on the floor with no surprise at all. I could never have done the same to Sabrina without Ilsa intervening, because she wouldn’t have left her so unprotected to begin with. She stays right by Sabrina’s side.
Ilsa understands how quickly the balance of power shifted.
Krystiyan has no family, no pull beyond his cash. The loyalty his money bought died the moment I cut his throat.
Ilsa’s shoulders lower like a sigh.
I’m still holding the knife, my thumb brushing against the inscription Sabrina wrote for me in another time, another world.
You. Always You …
There’s only ten feet of space between us. The closest we’ve been in six weeks. An agonizing, eternal amount of time.
I can feel her heart beating across that space. I smell her scent, high and sharp with adrenaline. Her pupils are pin pricks, her lips damp.
I could take two more steps to reach her, but she’s tense and trembling, a rabbit on the grass—if I take a step toward her, she might bolt.
“You’re done,” I tell her. “It’s time to come home.”
She stares at me, white as death, eyes flat and metallic.
“Never,” she whispers.
The air is full of the iron smell of blood.
It’s Kovalenko’s, but it feels like it’s Sabrina and me who are cut. We’ve hacked at each other again and again. We’re in some kind of contest to prove who has the stronger will. For us to be together, maybe one of us has to conquer.
We’ll keep hurting each other until someone begs for mercy.
I point at Sabrina and I make her a promise: “Come at me again and I won’t pull any punches.”
I close the bloody knife and put it back in my pocket.
Krystiyan’s men don’t speak a word to me. Denis Radmir simply nods as I pass.
I leave the house, the Wolfpack behind me.
The car ride back is silent.
Jasper drives, one hand on the wheel. I see him sneaking glances at me out of his peripheral.
“You okay?” he says at last.
The weight of what I just did is already crashing down on me. I’m replaying every word, every glance between Sabrina and me. Already feeling that it was all wrong, all fucked up.
I don’t know what I should have done … but not that.
I can’t answer Jasper. All I can do is shake my head once.
Another long silence.
Then, grimacing, Jasper says, “For what it’s worth … I miss her too.”
We all do. The mood in the house has been dismal the last six weeks, and not only because of me. You don’t realize how bright Sabrina shines until the light goes out.
The day she left, Jasper agreed with her. He was afraid to tell me the truth.
Yet another thing for him to feel guilty about. And another thing that shows me how blind I can be.