Nikolai’s POVBlood pooled beneath us. I squeezed Gregory’s hand, feeling his pulse flutter weakly against my palm. His eyes had opened, focusing on mine with tremendous effort, and in that moment, the years collapsed between us.I remembered the first time I’d seen Gregory, back in the frozen streets of Moscow. He’d been crouched on a rooftop, rifle trained on Governor Petrov’s black sedan, his breath forming white clouds in the bitter air. Most would have seen a terrorist, an assassin to be eliminated. But when I’d cornered him in that abandoned warehouse, when I’d seen the raw grief carved into his young face, I’d recognized something else entirely.“He killed them all,” Gregory had whispered, his voice breaking like glass. “My mother, my sister, my father. Burned our village to cover his tracks.” The weight of loss had bent his shoulders, made him seem smaller than his nineteen years.I could have killed him then. Should have, by all rights. Instead, I’d helped him finish what
Last Updated : 2025-07-08
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