Page 40 of Savage Reins
"Went to check on the horses. Make sure they're settled into the other barn." Renat closes the door behind him and leans against it. "He said we needed to talk."
Of course Dad would give us space now. After everything that's happened, he knows this conversation has been building for weeks. The tension between Renat and me has become impossible to ignore, even for a man who spends most of his time focused on horses and bills.
I struggle to sit up, wincing when I use my hands more than I should. Renat moves toward me instinctively, then stops himself, his hands clenched at his sides. The careful distance he maintains tells me everything—he wants to touch me, to check my injuries himself, but he's holding back.
"The barn," I start, my voice still rough from smoke.
"Is gone." His eyes are hard, dangerous. "The Karpins made sure of that."
"They trapped me in there. They locked the doors from the outside, said it would send a message to the Vetrovs about keeping promises."
Renat's jaw tightens. "You weren't trying to save the colts?"
"No. Though I would have." I meet his eyes, only a glimmer of a reflection in the stark darkness. "They wanted me to burn with the barn. Make it look like an accident."
The muscle in his jaw jumps. For a moment, I think he might put his fist through the wall. Instead, he takes a deep breath and sits on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle me.
"This changes everything," he says, and for a moment I think he's talking about the timeline.
I've been thinking the same thing since I woke up. "I need more time with Rusalka. She's not ready?—"
"We don't have more time." His voice carries finality. "After tonight, Vadim will expect results faster, not slower. The Karpins forced his hand."
My heart sinks. I know he's right, but Rusalka needs weeks more training, maybe months. She has the bloodline, the speed, but she lacks the discipline that only comes with repetition and trust.
"So we work smarter," Renat continues. "No more dancing around this. I train with you every day. Morning to night, if that's what it takes."
"You don't know horses."
"I know how to take orders and how to follow through." His eyes find mine. "And I know what failure looks like in my world."
Even in this heavy darkness I know what his face looks like because I hear it in his words. He's determined and probably slightly scared of what his family will do if I fail. It shows he cares. This isn't just about saving the ranch anymore—it's about keeping all of us alive. But there's something else in his voice, something that wasn't there before tonight.
"Why?" I ask. "Why the change of heart? Yesterday, you were ready to walk away from all this."
He looks down at his hands, and I see him turn his hands over, rub his knuckles. When he speaks, his voice is quieter than I've ever heard it.
"Because I want you."
The confession steals what little breath I have left. I feel tense suddenly, scared of my own response internally because it makes my heart flutter. He's a murderer, a violent man who will stop at nothing to get what he wants, just like the menwho burned down my barn with me in it tonight. Why does his confession make me want to be closer to him? What the actual fuck is wrong with me?
"And because I've fallen for you," he continues, still not meeting my eyes. "Which is the most dangerous thing that could happen to either of us right now."
My pulse hammers in my throat. "Renat?—"
"If that horse doesn't perform, it won't be the Karpins with another rogue attack." He finally looks up, and the intensity in his gaze makes my skin flush. "Vadim will come himself. He'll slaughter you and your father, and he'll make me watch before he puts a bullet in my head for failing the family. Because I will never do what he will order me to do."
The brutal honesty of it clarifies everything. This man—this enforcer who could break me in half without thinking—is willing to die to protect me.
"I won't let that happen," he says.
I reach for him with my bandaged hands, ignoring the pain that shoots up my arms. "Renat."
"I should've told you before. Should have been honest about what this was becoming." His voice roughens. "But I'm not good at this. At feelings. At anything that isn't violence."
"You saved my life tonight."
"Anyone would have?—"
