Page 25 of Watched and Bred By the Bratva
Leave.
The word guts me. A thousand times shot, stabbed, betrayed—never has pain cut like this. She cannot leave. The thought of this bed empty of her, of her laugh taken from these walls, of her scent gone from my skin— My chest claws for air.
“No.” The word rips from me. I’m on her before she can move, crushing her small body into the mattress. My voice is hoarse, violent. “You won’t. Absolutely not. You gave me that choice once before. You don’t get it again.”
She gasps as I seize her mouth, savage with desperation. My hands tear the barrier of her pajamas. Cotton rips beneath my grip until her bare skin is under me where it belongs.
I take her mouth with teeth and tongue, swallowing her protests, shoving her wrists above her head and pinning them into the pillows. My roar vibrates in her ribs. She thrashes, cries out, but the sound melts into a moan when I drive into her heat in a single thrust.
She is wet, trembling, clutching at me. Rage and terror and devotion carve through me as I pound her into the bed. Each stroke a demand. Each growl a brand.
“Say it,” I snarl into her mouth.
Her cry is half-sob. “Yours.”
I release her wrists only long enough to fist her hair. I drag her gaze to mine and slam harder, deeper. “Again.”
“Yours!”
Her voice breaks on the word, raw and true, and I take it as my salvation.
I don’t stop. I rut into her like a man trying to anchor his soul. I keep her hips lifted high, locked tight beneath my body, my cock buried so deep it feels like we share one heartbeat. I don’t allowher to drag me from her. I don’t allow my seed to spill anywhere but inside her. Over and over, I flood her. Filling her until there is no mistaking it—she is mine. And if her body allows it, she will carry my child.
By the time her sobs collapse into broken cries of ecstasy, I am spilling again. Forcing myself deep, pelvis locked, keeping her tilted with my hands clamped around her thighs to trap every drop inside her where it belongs.
I collapse against her. But even as she trembles beneath me, her whisper cuts through: “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to give me a baby to keep me.”
Her words are destruction and release all at once. I bury my forehead against her temple. My voice is hoarse. “Yes.”
Silence stretches. For the first time, I let the truth pierce the air.
“My father raised me in iron and fire,” I rasp. “Every lesson had blood on it. He beat me into obedience. And when I finally resisted, he made me kill. A child—forced to prove loyalty with death. It hollowed me. Stripped me. I grew into ice because there was no other way to survive.”
Her breath hitches, tears streaking wet across her temple where my cheek rests.
“I would have died in that frozen place one day. Walked into an ambush and let it happen. I was already dead inside. But then you, Zoya. You lit a fire in me where there had only been ash. You warmed me. And now… I can’t let you go. I’m not keeping you because it’s best for you. This is the sin that damns me more than all my killings: I’m keeping you because it’s best for me.”
Her hands tremble against my chest. “What kind of life is that? What kind of life will this be for our children?”
“They’ll be safe,” I vow. My hand cups her throat, thumb stroking where her pulse races. “Our sons will be strong. Strong enough to guard you, their sisters, this family. And ourdaughters will know nothing but being cherished. No fear. No doubt. No one will touch them the way you were touched.”
Fresh tears burn my eyes. I blink them away. “I wanted him near so I could punish him myself. But I didn’t want to leave you even for that. I swear—violence will never come so close to our home again. And I will never force my sons to kill before they’ve lived. They will never know what was done to me. They’ll know love. They’ll know…” My voice falters. “They’ll know us.”
I lift her chin in shaking fingers until her gaze meets mine. She sees the fear in me, though I never show fear to anyone else.
“Because I love you,” I choke. “I love you so much it destroys me.”
Her lips tremble, breaking into a sob that shatters into relief. “I love you, too.”
I kiss her then. Softly. Reverently. As though we aren’t made of jagged parts. My hands cradle her. My heart bared to her alone. And for the first time since I was a boy, I want to believe in heaven—because if I can come this close to possessing her love on earth, then maybe salvation is not so far after all.
Epilogue
Ikept my word.
For months, I never pried. Never followed Zara into the ultrasound office or hacked her files when it would have been so damned easy. My woman wanted the surprise, and I gave it to her. But that didn’t stop me from running surveillance on every test, every ultrasound, every report—just to be sure my child was perfect. Healthy. Strong.
When I pressed Dimitri for the answer, he just laughed and shook his head.
