Page 104 of Our Little Monster
“Serina, baby.” Thorne raised his voice, trying to keep her awake—alive and here with us. “Remember all those dreams we talked about. Next year, we’re going to open a restaurant. We’re all going to find a nice place to settle down and live out the rest of our lives.
“We’ll get a dog, and have a fenced-in yard, I’ll make you breakfast, and you can work on cars with Nox, and we can annoy Bas together.” I chuckled over a sob at that, and a whisper of a smile curved her lips. “We have so much left to do, baby. You just have to stay awake, stay with us,” Thorne pleaded, his voice desperate, but then her chest fell and didn’t rise again.
“Please,” I choked out, my voice a plea, a prayer, anything that might undo this cruel fate. “Don't go.”
But there was no stopping the inevitable. Her breath hitched, and then there was nothing but silence, a void where her vibrant spirit had been. Her eyes, those beautiful icy depths fell dark, and I screamed. Roared louder than the fire behind me.
No. No. No. This couldn't be how it ended—not when we'd only just begun.
“No,” I snarled, cradling her head in my arms. I bit into her neck, using my venom for changing her as a last-ditch effort to keep her with us.
When I pulled back, laying her gently on the cold, dew-kissed grass, my brothers joined me without hesitation. We had never asked her if she would want this, and it was a selfish decision to make for her, but I would do it.
Serina Velika was mine—ours, and I refused to live without her.
Nox and Thorne joined me and sank their fangs into her wrists, her thighs, her soft flesh, every drop of venom a silent scream against her death. We were monsters, condemned and feared.
But in that moment, we were simply men refusing to let go of the woman who'd become our heart, our soul, our very fucking reason forbeing.
I started chest compressions, willing the venom to move through her body faster. “Come back to us, love.” I leaned down and whispered against her skin, my own tears mingling with the blood, “Please. I love you too.”
We waited, hearts caught in a limbo between hope and despair, the fire behind us a mockery of the one that raged within.
The night held its breath, and so did we.
I never stopped pumping her heart.
34
Bastian
Weburstthroughthedoor of Serina's dad's cabin. I watched, heart lodged in my throat, as Thorne laid Sam down on the couch and then quickly joined Nox as he carried Serina's lifeless body to the bathroom, their movements gentle but urgent.
“Careful,” I murmured, more to myself than to them. They didn't need the reminder; she was alreadygone.
Each step was measured, deliberate, as if they could will her back to life through sheer force of care. Once they disappeared behind the closed door, the sound of running water mingled with the haunting silence that had settled over us since the fire.
I leaned against the wall, letting the coolness seep into my skin, trying to drown out the image of Serina's ashen face from my mind.
Over an hour. That's how long I'd pumped her heart, counting each compression while praying to whatever gods might be listening that it wasn't too late. That somehow, our venom and the relentless rhythm of my hands on her chest would pull her back from death's grasp.
We chose this place for refuge, Serina’s dad’s old cabin shrouded by trees in the woods. Somewhere Victor's goons wouldn't think to look, if they were even looking.
Victor would expect us to come for him knowing Serina died. He knew more than he ever let on.
I slid down to the floor, the weight of exhaustion settling deep into my bones. The cabin's scent, a mix of pine and a hint of vanilla, was a small comfort.
But even that couldn't ease the tightness gripping my chest or the dread curling around my heart like a vice.
“Please, let it have been enough,” I whispered into the empty space.
A part of me wanted to join them, to scrub away the evidence of the night’s horrors from Serina's skin myself. But I’d already claimed too much of her time, and I wasn’t sure I could hold it together in there.
So, I waited as the minutes stretched into eternity.
The only thing I could do was hold onto the sliver of hope that Serina would return to us.
I nursed the glass of liquor in my hands, the burn as it slid down my throat a stark contrast to the icy dread that had settled in my stomach. The red-rimmed reflection in the window above the kitchen sink didn't belong to the man I knew; no, I was lost.
