Page 143 of Bratva Knight

A kick to the stomach had me grunting in pain. I managed to grab his foot at the last second, mildly lessening the blow, but it still fucking hurt. I twisted sharply, hearing a resoundingcrack, and then smashed the side of my fist down onto his shin, snapping the bone. He screamed and went down like a house of cards.

I reared back, narrowly avoiding another strike, ducked under another one from a different soldier and threw out a wicked fast combo: uppercut to the chin, left hook to the face, knee strike to the gut, front kick to the chest, roundhouse kick to the jaw, alternating each blow between the two men. They both crumbled under the onslaught.

A big, heavy body rammed into me, lifting me up in a running tackle. My back slammed into the sand. Pain shot up my spine. The flash of silver caught my eye and I just barely managed to throw my hands up in time to stop the blade from piercing my chest.

It was John. He smirked, slapped his free hand down onto the one curled around the hilt of the knife and pushed forward, throwing his body weight behind it.

I growled, struggling to hold it back. My arms shook, my teeth clenched in exertion.

He laughed, the blade inching closer and closer. “I knew there was something off about you. I justknewit.”

What does he want, a fucking medal or something?

I darted my head left to right, looking for something—anything—to help me get out of the situation. I saw Aleksandr fighting off four men, trying to keep them back from Illayana, who was on the ground nursing what looked like a pretty bad blow to the head. There was blood trailing down the side of her face.

Father and Autumn were trying to get over to them, but for every soldier they killed, another two took their place.

Lukyan was in the same position I was, except instead of trying to stop a knife, he was trying to pry the hands around his throat away. His feet dug into the ground as he bucked his body, gasping, desperate for air.

I took it all in in only a few seconds and a dark cloud of anger took over me, burrowing deep into my soul, into every cell of my being. I couldn’t let him die. I couldn’t. I had to do something.

Not my baby brother.

I snarled, grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it into John’s face. He cursed, the shock providing the perfect distraction for me to knock the knife out of his hands. I heaved with every bit of strength I possessed and we rolled, growling and snarling as we wrestled for the dominant position.

Rage pulsed in my veins and I reared forward and tore out a chunk of his cheek with my teeth. He screamed, the pain overwhelming him enough to allow me to wind up on top. Blood stained his skin. He clutched the side of his face, crying. I spat his flesh into his face, gripped his head and snapped his neck in one quick move.

Scrambling to my feet, I rushed towards Lukyan, trying to dodge the attacks of other soldiers as I ran. Duck, punch. Deflect, kick. Block, elbow strike.

I’m not going to make it in time. I’m not going to make it in time. I’m not—

Bang!

I froze, everybody in the Arena doing the exact same thing, exchanging looks of confusion.

Was that…a gunshot?

The man on top of Lukyan slid to the side and then collapsed to the ground, sand wafting up into the air around him. Right in the centre of his forehead was a huge bullet hole. It didn’t look like it was made from a standard weapon, like a handgun or even a machine gun. The entry wound was far too big. 50 calibre, easy. And the sound of the gunshot hadn’t been close. Most likely a sniper.

Lukyan jumped to his feet, hand to his throat, his skin red and marred with bruising. He looked down at the lifeless body at his feet in shock.

Movement behind him caught my attention. “Lukyan! Behind you!”

My brother spun and—

Bang!

The soldier that had been running towards him dropped dead, an identical bullet hole smack dab in the middle of his forehead like the other. All of sudden, soldiers started dropping like flies…butonlythe ones around Lukyan. Only the ones who came nearhim. Any time someone even made an attempt to go near him, they were shot dead. None of the soldiers fighting me or my siblings were shot. It was only Lukyan. Whoever the sniper was, they were protecting him, and him alone. He just stood still, watching in shock as soldiers fell to the ground all around him.

I caught a fist flying towards my face. I twisted sharply and front kicked him in the chest before lashing out with another strike to a soldier coming at me from the side. I didn’t care who the sniper was. I didn’t care that they were only protecting Lukyan. The only thing that mattered was that they were keeping him safe, shielding him from danger.

“Go to Illayana!” I screamed, ducking under a roundhouse kick.

Lukyan nodded and sprinted to our sister. The sniper followed him, taking out any soldiers in his vicinity, providing a clear path for him to run in any direction he pleased.

Block, block, kick, punch. My body ached, my energy dissipating fast. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep it up. My reflexes were getting slower. More strikes were making contact with my body, sending pain shooting all over me. I didn’t know how many soldiers I’d killed, but it didn’t seem to make any difference. I was being overrun. Two soldiers. Three. Four. Five. They swarmed me, each one trying to get a piece of me, hitting, punching, kicking.

I blocked and lashed out, trying to get them off me, but more just took their place. I couldn’t—

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