Page 126 of Inked Athena

“You really are insane.”

Her perfectly painted lips twist. “Insane? No. I simply understand something you don’t.” She steps closer, lifting the gun to level its black eye right between mine. “Men like Samuil don’t change. They don’t learn to love. They only know how to possess and destroy.”

I gulp. “You’re wrong about him.”

“Sweet, sweet little Nova.” She sighs, almost sadly. “Still so naive. Even after everything.” She comes close enough to kiss the tip of the gun to the arch of my belly. “Tick tock, though. Time’s a-wasting. You’re coming with me, and we’re going to give Samuil a choice—you or his empire. And trust me, I know exactly which one he’ll pick.”

43

NOVA

The blood is almost beautiful.

I can’t stop staring at it. It’s running in perfect channels down the grooves of the tile grouting. A geometric latticework of flowing crimson against gleaming midnight black. Too flawless to be real.

But itisreal. It’s real and it belongs to Myles, the one who’s been there for Sam and for me more times than I can count. On the other side of this door, he’s dying—fast or slow, I can’t be sure, but every second that passes does him no favors.

“Oh, quit with the fucking tears,” snaps Katerina. She pokes me in the ribs with the gun. “We’re going to get him right now.” She points toward the door with one toe. “You’re going to open it. Slowly.Sofucking slowly. And don’t even think about screaming.”

My fingers tremble as I reach for the handle. The metal is frigid, or maybe that’s just my body going into shock.

The knob turns. One groaning gear at a time. When I pull, the door creaks open with glacial slowness. Beyond it, the dim hallway beckons.

Empty. Still.

But not quiet. Organ music drifts from the sanctuary, along with the drone of prayers in Russian. Sam is out there somewhere, probably wondering where I am. The thought of him sends a fresh wave of terror through me—not for myself, but for what this will do to him.

My gaze drops to Myles’s crumpled form and my heart seizes. If he finds us like this… If Kat does what I think she might do…

But then I see it—the subtle rise and fall of his chest.

He’s alive.Thank God, he’s alive.

For now.

The gash on his temple looks nasty but superficial. Head wounds always bleed like crazy. What concerns me more is his complete stillness. In all the months I’ve known him, Myles has never been still—always alert, always watching, always ready to move at a millisecond’s notice. It’s not right to see him so frozen stiff.

“Quit stalling,” Katerina growls, shoving me forward. My bare feet slip in Myles’s blood as I stumble toward him.

A single tear slides down my cheek. Not from fear, but from fury. This bitch really thinks she knows Sam better than I do. Thinks she can predict what he’ll choose.

She has no idea what love looks like on Samuil Litvinov. No idea at all.

I’m so close to Myles I can smell the stench of his blood mingling with his aftershave. The combination makes my stomach roll.

I swallow hard, willing myself not to vomit. Not now. Not when one wrong move could mean the difference between life and death for two—no, forthreeof us.

My baby’s life is hanging in the balance, too.

“Pull him inside.” Katerina gestures with the gun toward Myles. “Careful. Remember who and what you’re carrying.”

My palm slides instinctively over my rounded belly. Our baby kicks, as if sensing my distress. At four months, it’s already strong—like her father. The thought of Sam gives me strength, even as fear claws at my throat.

Keeping my movements slow and deliberate, I grip Myles under his arms. His head lolls against my shoulder as I begin to drag him across the floor. My back screams in protest, but I refuse to let him go. If I can just get him somewhere safe, maybe buy us some time…

“Faster!” Katerina barks, but I hear the tremor in her voice now. She’s starting to crack. And cracked things are dangerous—they can either shatter completely or slice you open.

I pray Sam finds us before we discover which way she’ll break.

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