Page 146 of Sire
I’ve dreamt of this moment for decades. Fearing the abused child in my heart would quake. The scars on my chest would burn. The nightmares I had would reclaim my mind.
But now … I have no fear, only fury. I’m a grown man, guarding my wife, our future,ourfamily.
With his arctic eyes, raven hair, chiseled face, and snarling full lips, my father’s beauty was one of his many lethal weapons. Viciously, he seduced with it, leaving the slain behind.
But Age humbles all, and Time laughs at powerful men. No one can survive them.
Dappled dusky light threatens to find his face, revealing the grey pallor of his skin. The life draining from his veins. His once towering form, crumbling.
“I kneel for no one.” Still, he boasts, “Not death. Not your God. And not my son. I have someone you want.”
“Give me my nephew and I’ll give you what you need.”
I have no patience for his games. Not when an innocent child is involved.
“Or maybe…” He drums his inked, ringed fingers over his bespoke, ash pants. “I will wait foryourchild, mytrueheir.”
“Touch our child and you’re dead.” Wren steps out from behind me. “One drop at a time, motherfucker, I will poison you and that bitch who took Axel’s son.”
I squeeze her hand, so goddamn in love with my Iron Angel.
Wren’s wearing the demure, white Chanel minidress my mother gave her. Her long, dark curls, an aura. A crown. She’s a queen.My queen.
My father can see it.
“My dear daughter,” he chides, “you knownotto whom you speak.”
“Someone who needs food and water,” Wren flatly gloats. “We all do; even if it’s deadly.”
His glare slithers to mine. “You need totameher.”
My God, he believes that shit. That any living woman can be truly conquered. No, she’s just waiting for your pathetic ass to die.
I sneer, “Like you tried to tamemymother? Foolish man, women will only take so much before they take everything from you. On that note: my brothers send theirDie and go to hellregards, too.”
Slowly glancing right, then left, he draws my attention to who I already knew lurked behind the trees and monuments: armed soldiers in black suits.
We’re surrounded.
There’s no escape.
“Doctors will prepare you to give me what you owe,” he demands. “In exchange, Aleksi may meet his son. Once.”
I bark a laugh. “Imminent death has made you demented, old man. Too many people in Moscow hate you and love us. They remember what you did: to my mother, my brothers, and me, and they’ll whisper it to Lev. I’ll make sure of it. He’ll grow up like us, hating you, until he comes home to his father and uncles—forever.”
He scoffs, “Lev will never leave his mother.”
“A cold mother who took him from a loving father?” My nostrils flare. “I never had a good father, but if I had, nothing but death could keep me from him.”
His lip curls. “I can arrange that.”
“Like I can arrange yours, too, as I did Viktor’s. Mutual destruction. Is that what you want, Ruslan?” I spit his name. “Your entire bloodline, dead, including you?”
Something human flits across his dead eyes. Worry? Care? It can’t be. That’s not the demon who raised me.
So what is it?
What does he want?
