Page 157 of Sire
Standing alone, he combs my adult form, nodding his approval. “You’re a soldier now, not a prince.”
“I’mnotstaying.”
“He will make sure you do.”
“When all he ever did was make us want to escape.”
Tariel winces.
I never understood why a ruthless butcher gave a damn about the abuse we suffered—me, Axel, my brothers, and my mom—but he did. Often, Tariel would distract my father by calling meetings to keep him away from us.
It worked.
But not enough.
“You do not want all this?” Tariel gestures to the compound, coveting every inch draped in opulence.
“I want my nephew.”
“How is Aleksi?” he asks fondly.
“He wants his son.”
“But he does not want all this, too? You were to be a priest; therefore, Aleksi was to be our next Pakhan.”
“And our father wasn’t supposed to beat the shit out of us and our mother, so plans changed. I don’t want it. Axel doesn’t want it.”
Most men in the Bratva forgo family. They’re a liability. My father, of course, believed he was exceptional. He forced his bloodline to continue while Tariel has nothing, no legacy except his role, power, and money.
“It should be yours,” I tell him.
It’s treasonous if he answers.
So I confide, “I’ll give it to you if you tell me why Ruslan wants Sheremetev.Whyis he hunting in our territory for him?”
Tariel’s face falls as the thrilled shriek of a child pierces the air.
I whip around, recognition grabbing my heart at the sight outside the window. I stagger, mumbling, “Oh my God. He looks just like him.”
Black hair. Blue eyes. Cold cheeks flushed with joy. It’s exactly how Axel looked when we’d play in the snow as boys.
Guilt, grief, and joy rush my veins. I grab the doorknob to meet him finally, but Tariel grabs my arm.
“Do you vow?” he compels. “When the day comes, this will be mine, and you will not fight me for it?”
“All I want,” I point to my flesh and blood outside, “ishim.”
Tariel swallows, lifting his chin. “He is not the only one.”
“What?”
He fumes, “Ruslan wants Sheremetev because Lev is not the only childtaken.”
“Come on, Angel, answer.”
The signal is intermittent. No doubt because Ruslan’s soldiers are listening in, and turning it off and on to fuck with me.
But somehow, I need to tell Wren about today.
