Page 100 of Owned By Shadows

“You hear that, you cunt?” he sneers at Sergi, getting down so he is right by the man’s ear. “Ourson has been born, and he will never know you. You can’t hurt him, will never see his face or speak to him.” Sergi makes an agony-filled mumble sound, though who the fuck knows what he’s trying to say.

“We will be his fathers,” I add, my voice firm, unyielding. “And you will be nothing.”

With that, I bring the knife down to his throat, slicing deep, and my hand doesn’t shake at all. A sigh leaves my lips whenhis blood spills around the wound, his gurgles quickly becoming quiet, his body going still.

“Let’s go meet our son, Niky boy,” Rowan says, throwing an arm over my shoulder as I stare down at the man who destroyed my life. An eye for an eye, because I’ve now taken his life, destroyed it with my bare hands.

Blinking, I look up to find Alexei gone, only Dima waiting.

“Were’s Volkov?” I ask, and Rowan shrugs.

“Left while you were going all butcher, which was masterful, by the way,” he replies as he turns me away from the dead body. Dima dispatched any of Sergi’s men who were alive in the safe room. This is now a mansion of dead men, which is fitting really.

He leads me out of the room, and we pause at all the dead bodies littering the corridor outside.

“Remind me not to piss Alexei off,” I say, not shrugging Rowan’s arm off. His touch is grounding me, as I feel a little adrift. It’s like I’ve been waiting so long for this day, and now that it’s here, I’m not sure what to do anymore.

Silently, we make our way through the quiet mansion, towards the security centre. We don’t come across any more alive guards, telling me that Alexei’s men really took care of them.

My heart beats harder as we approach the corridor where the security room is, but Rowan doesn’t give me time to stop. He just tugs me past yet more dead bodies and into the room, where our family, with its recent addition, waits.

I stop when I spot Iris, Roman and Hunter on either side of her, sitting on the floor with a blanket draped over her. Her hazel eyes look up, and her tired face splits into a wide grin.

“Nik, Roo, come meet him.”

My body moves before I give it permission, and I crash onto my knees in front of her, my gaze fixed on the bundle in herarms. She moves the blanket aside and I swear my heart stops beating.

Our son’s lips are wrapped around one of her nipples, his jaw working as he sucks, and it’s a sight that burns itself into my retinas. It’s so…right. And I reach out a trembling hand to brush my blood-soaked fingers over his hair.

It doesn’t matter that he’s biologically my brother. Or that I just killed our father. Or even that the man’s blood runs through both our veins. Because I know that neither of us is stained by Sergi’s evil. We do not carry his sins on our shoulders.

“He’s breathtaking,Moye Solntse,” I breathe out, my gaze darting up to hers. The back of my eyes burn, and I lean down, letting the first tear fall as I kiss my brother’s, my son’s, head.

A strong hand lands on my shoulder, another on the other one, and one on my back. They hold me as I cry over the head of this perfect baby. I could no more hold it back than I could not kill my father, and I don’t want to ignore how I feel, not anymore. I’m safe with my family, and that means I no longer have to deny how I feel, because they will accept me for who I am.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

“BIRTHDAY CAKE” BY DYLAN CONRIQUE

IRIS

“We should move out, get Iris and the baby some medical attention,” Andrei states, and I sigh, knowing that he’s right but also not wanting to move now that all my guys are here.

Our son has stopped feeding and is fast asleep in my arms, and although I am a little reluctant to let him go, I don’t think I can get up and hold him.

“Nik?” I question, and my beautiful Russian looks up at me, his eyes red-rimmed but somehow at peace.

“Yes,Malyshka?”

“Can you take your top off and then hold our son for me, please?” I watch as various emotions play across his face, the main one being uncertainty, which has his brows wrinkling. “He needs skin to skin, and I can’t hold him and get up.”

He takes a deep breath, then with a nod, strips his tactical vest off, then his black long-sleeved shirt until his torso is bare,his tattoos on show. With arms that tremble slightly, he reaches out, and I part the blanket, transferring our son into his arms.

His entire body tenses for a second, and then melts as he pulls him closer, our baby not stirring as he settles into Nik’s body.

“I was thinking we could call him Novak,” I say, and Nik’s eyes dart up to mine. “I read it means new, and he’s our new beginning. Our fresh start.”

Nik swallows hard, his eyes going glassy as he gives a nod. “It’s a beautiful name. A strong name.”

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