Page 103 of Monsters Carve Thrones
I turned to her, still clinging to Rafe’s chest. “Get Olesya outnow. Get her somewhere safe. Please.”
Laura nodded, no questions asked. She grabbed Olesya’s hand and ducked as bullets cracked outside. Kieran and Nico were covering them, shooting from behind a stone column. I watched as Laura dragged Olesya across the yard toward a black car parked at the edge of the estate, flinging the door open. Thankfuck.
“Go,” Rafe whispered, pulling back just enough to look at me. I shook my head, and his brow furrowed.
“No,” I said, voice low and cold. “I’m not done.”
“Adela…”
“I want to see the end of this. I want tofuckingend it!”
He froze, and I saw the war in his eyes. There was pain, rage, and the urge to protect me versus the fire that was roaring in my chest. He nodded once. Not in defeat, but inrecognition.Because he knew me, and I wasn’t going to run again when I had the chance to kill the man who abused me.
Rafe stepped back just enough to watch me reload the stolen gun with trembling but determined hands. I looked back one more time, noting Laura buckling Olesya into the car, shielding her head as gunfire rang out again. The car peeled away down the gravel drive.She was safe.
I turned toward the ruined house. To the halls that held me captive and to the man who tried to break me. Whatever relief I felt had taken a backseat until they were all fucking dead. Rafe fell into step beside me, a monster forged in blood and vengeance.
Crack.
A sudden shot fired from the hallway to the right. Rafe jerked but didn’t fall. Didn’t even stagger. Blood bloomed across his shoulder like a red sunburst.
“Rafe!” I screamed, spinning toward the shooter. But he was already gone. Kieran or Nico must have gotten him. A body slumped behind the overturned table. I whipped back to Rafe. “You’ve been shot!”
He didn’t even glance at it. He just turned toward me, breathing hard, jaw clenched like steel. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’renot!”
“Adela,” he growled, low and wild, stepping closer. His voice speared through me. “I said I’m fine. We’re almost there.”
I stared at him, his shoulder bleeding, jaw bruised and covered with blood that wasn’t his, face shadowed with wrath and love and fire. My knees almost gave out. Because he didn’t evenflinch.Not when I was still in danger. He was the devil I’d fallen in love with. And in that moment, he was the most terrifying and beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“Okay,” I whispered. I gripped my gun tighter. “Let’s finish this.” And side by side, we marched into hell one last time. We tore through the house like a goddamn hurricane. We were close. Rafe was unhinged, feral, and soaked in blood and silent fury. I had never seen him like this. And God help anyone who tried to stop us now. We turned the final corner, and there he was.
Waylon stood at the head of the long table in the office, smirking like he had been expecting us. He reached for his gun, but Rafe shot it out of his hand.
“Sit down,” Rafe snarled.
Waylon didn’t move fast enough.
Rafe lunged and slammed him into the chair so hard the wood cracked. He held the muzzle of the gun to his temple, hand trembling from rage, chest heaving. I saw the muscle twitch in Rafe’s jaw, the tremor in his trigger finger. He was seconds from blowing his head off.
“Don’t,” I said softly but full of venom.
Rafe stilled, seemingly struggling to hold it together.
I stepped forward, and my eyes met Waylon’s.
His lip curled. “So you brought your little dog after all.”
Rafe’s fist cracked across his face.
Waylon wheezed, blood spurting from his nose.
“I didn’t forget,” I said, stepping to the table. My voice shook, but I didn’t stop. “I didn’t forget the night you bent me overthisdesk and hit me with your belt. I didn’t forget your friends watching.Laughing.”
Rafe flinched, a low sound escaping him. His hand twitched on the gun again.
“You remember that, Waylon?” I asked. “That was the first night I stopped crying. Because I realized that you don’t feel shame. You don’t feelanything.”
