Heart of My Monster (Monster Trilogy #3) by Rina Kent

“If you take one more step, I’m going to kill you. I swear I will.”

“Why? Because you’re scared that if we touch, you’ll remember that you only ever belonged to me? Not your family, not your duty, fucking me.”

“This is my last warning…” Sweat dampens my temples and upper lip. I’m tasting bile on my tongue as my finger trembles.

“You’re giving an awful lot of chances to someone you claim you hold no affection toward.” He reaches a hand to my face, ignoring the rifle that’s now pressing against his chest.

Where his heart is.

The heart I never had a place in, no matter how much I tried.

The heart that never accepted me, even though mine is full of him.

Before that stupid organ softens, before he can touch me, I lift the rifle higher and pull the trigger.

My chest falls as he flies sideways and blood explodes on his right arm from the gash in his skin. It trickles down to his limp hand—the hand he tried to touch me with.

My heart that I thought was long dead bleeds at the view.

Fuck.

Shit.

Goddammit!

How am I supposed to kill him if I feel like I just shot myself by merely hurting his arm?

Kirill groans, his face contorting, but he doesn’t attempt to stop the bleeding. I made sure not to hit a major artery, but I must’ve shot a minor one because blood is still flowing from the wound.

Instead of getting help or even shooting me back, he gains back the few steps he lost and reaches his left hand toward my face.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I point my rifle at his left shoulder keeping him an arm’s length away.

“You.”

“Stay away from me!”

“I can’t. You’re my wife. Till death do us part, remember?”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Probably.”

“Kirill, stay away, I mean it.”

“I won’t. I mean it. You can shoot my other arm and I will walk to you. If you take my legs, I’ll crawl to you.”

“Are you crazy?”

“When it comes to you? Possibly.” He pushes against the rifle with impossible strength, considering his right arm is fucked. “So unless you kill me, you won’t be able to stop me.”

I see it then.

In the depths of his arctic eyes that could freeze someone to death.

He means every word. If I don’t put a bullet in his heart or head, he’ll chase me relentlessly.

Until either I kill him or he possesses me.

And that’s terrifying because at this point, I don’t know which one is more likely to come true.

I’d hate myself in both cases.

I lift my rifle and shoot the sky, and just like that, a long, raw scream rips out of my lungs.

Until I nearly lose my voice.

Until my heart metaphorically spills out on the ground.

When I look back at Kirill, he’s watching me with keen interest. His right arm is limp, dripping blood on the ground, but his complete, unwavering attention never leaves me.

I drop the rifle, letting it hang at my chest and glare at him.

“You can’t kill me,” he says it like a declaration.

No. An affirmation.

“You better think carefully about your next words, because they might be the last you say, asshole.”

He offers me his left palm. “Let’s go home and talk about it.”

The audacity of this motherfucker.

Why can’t I shoot him again?

“That’s not thinking carefully, Kirill. Do you have a death wish?”

“Not particularly, but the only option on the table right now is for you to come with me.”

“You’re demented if you think I’ll go anywhere with you.”

“How else will you allow me to change your mind?”

“Nothing you do will make me change my mind.”

“We’ll agree to disagree.”

“Can you stop being so calm about this? Why…just why are you like this when I’m going crazy?”

“If I don’t force myself to be calm, I’m going to fuck you like a savage in the middle of the forest and punish you for all the time I’ve spent without you. But since I assume that’s highly unlikely to happen, I have to be civil.”

My teeth grind together. “You call this civil?”

“You know how I act when I don’t get what I want, so yes, this is fucking civil. For now.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Come home with me, Solnyshko.”

“Don’t fucking call me that!” I snap.

“Fine, are you coming?”

“No.”

“You’re my wife, Sasha. You belong with me.”

“I belong anywhere but with you.” Even if I don’t know where the hell that is.

My family’s patience has limits. If I go back after being unable to kill Kirill, Anton will do it and they’ll kick me out.

I’ll have nothing.

“Last attempt at being civil.” He motions at his palm. “Take it.”

“I said no.”

“Very well. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He slides his hand in his pocket, brings out his phone, and awkwardly types with one hand, then he shows me a picture of Anton, bound and gagged, blood trickling down his temple.