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

“Kirill!” she grunts, obviously on the verge of exploding.

“Yes?”

“Fight me seriously and stop playing around.”

“I refuse.”

“But why?” She narrows her eyes. “You think so little of me?”

“No. I’m just not a fan of the idea of hurting you.”

“Really?” She elbows me and slips out of my hold. “You did that just fine when you announced your engagement to Kristina while I was standing right there.”

“You’re never going to forgive me for that, are you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I won’t. I might consider it if you take me seriously.”

“You’re the one who asked for this, so don’t come crying to me when you can’t walk.”

She grins and doesn’t waste any time. Sasha comes at me with all her might. I push her to the ground, enjoying the feeling of having her trapped underneath me a bit too much.

After a few moments, she manages to escape and tries to high-kick me. I circle her ankle and yank. She loses her balance and hits the ground again.

Usually, she’d jump right back up, but she remains unmoving.

I didn’t put power behind the pull, so she should be fine.

Right?

“Ow,” she grunts, balling into a fetal position and holding her stomach.

“Fuck.” I run to her side. “Are you okay?”

Her face is contorted, eyes half closed and sweat beading on her upper lip.

Fucking fuck.

I reach a hand toward her. “I told you not to fucking fight me! Where does it hurt? Can you move—”

In a fraction of a second, she rolls onto her back and kicks me in the face, then jumps away while wearing a shit-eating grin. “Got you!”

I touch the throbbing spot in my cheek with the back of my hand. The little fucking—

Without a word, I turn around and head toward the cabin. My tendons nearly snap with tension and my head feels like it’s at the point of exploding.

Sasha soon falls in step beside me and pushes my shoulder with hers. “Don’t be a sore loser. Let’s continue.”

I say nothing.

“Oh, come on. You throw me down all the time. You don’t see me acting butthurt.”

She does—all the time, whining and grumbling like a fucking baby. Sasha seems to have the memory of a goldfish about some things but has no problem recalling all the grudges she holds against me.

“Is it so wrong for me to win even once?”

No reply.

“Are you seriously pulling the silent treatment on me because I kicked you?”

I face her so suddenly, she crashes into me before stepping back.

Her throat bobs with a swallow when her eyes meet mine. “Why…why do you look so scary?”

“I thought you were seriously hurt because of me. Don’t you ever, and I mean fucking ever, do that shit again. Do you hear me?”

Her throat works up a swallow. “I didn’t think…”

“You obviously didn’t. If you want to hit me so badly, I’ll just stand there and take it. Don’t do that fucking nonsense again.”

“It’s not that I want to hit you.” Her voice shakes and she clears her throat. “I don’t want to hurt you either, but you’re a provocative asshole who never takes me seriously.” She touches my hurt cheek. “Is it very painful?”

“I’ll survive.”

“Come on.” She pulls up on the corners of my lips with her forefingers. “I won’t do it again. Can you stop with the long face?”

I don’t even know why I’m so fucking enraged about this.

No. Actually, I’m well aware of the magnitude of these emotions.

When I thought Sasha had died, a part of me believed it was because of me, and that only made me spiral further out of control.

I hate that wayward version of myself that couldn’t stop my disintegration process.

So to be put in the same situation again—to think Sasha’s in pain because of me again— drew out those infuriating feelings from the depths of my black soul.

I step away from her. “I’m going to town for some shopping.”

She releases me, but her shoulders hunch. I was supposed to prepare her a surprise tonight, and I still am, but my mood for the occasion is nonexistent at the moment.

After I finish showering and changing clothes, I find Sasha waiting for me in front of the house, already showered and wearing her coat.

She stops kicking rocks upon seeing me. Her soft face lights up with a careful smile. “I’ll come along.”

I do want her to come along for my plan to work, but I didn’t think she’d volunteer.

Usually, we walk to town, but about a week ago, I asked Viktor to bring me a truck in case of an emergency.

I drive in silence and Sasha fiddles with the radio stations. She loves listening to music, singing along, and trying to make me join to no avail.

Today, however, she doesn’t seem to be in a singing mood. After a few minutes of changing stations, she turns off the radio and sighs.

“Are you really going to be like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like an asshole.” She faces me in her seat, arms crossed. “I already said I won’t do it again. What got your panties in a twist?”