Blood of My Monster (Monster Trilogy #1 ) by Rina Kent

I am a weakling.

It doesn’t matter how long I slave through physical activities or try to build my muscles. The truth remains, I don’t have these guys’ strength. Not only are they men, but they’ve also been in the army longer than I have.

“Aww, are you crying, boy?” Matvey shakes me. “Should I call your mama to come pick you up? Oh, sorry, you don’t have a mama, do you? Or a papa, for that matter. Poor Aleksander trying to be a man—”

His words are cut off when I grab his shoulders and raise my knee, hitting him in the nuts so hard, he’s lost for words.

And expressions, apparently, because his face is caught in a blank state for a while. All the others freeze, too, probably not believing what just happened.

His hold loosens from my shoulder, and I use the chance to free myself and slip from beneath his limp arm as he wails and groans in pain.

“You fucking…fuck… I’m going to kill you!” he screams from behind me, but I’m already running toward the exit. If I find the captain or even some other soldiers, I’ll be safe.

Note to self: Never stay alone with Matvey and his gang again. Ever.

My muscles scream with exhaustion, and the boots weigh down my escape, but I still don’t stop running.

Like back then, I know, I just know that my survival depends on how fast and far I run.

Just when the exit is within reach, I’m pulled by a firm hold on my nape, flung back, and tossed on the floor like an old rug.

The thud splashes all the way to my bones, and I groan, then grab a painful spot in my arm. Well, shit. It’s either sprained or broken.

I have no time to focus on that when a shadow falls on me. I slowly stare up to find a very pissed Matvey hovering over me, his goons close behind him.

“You really fucked up, little fuck.” He reaches for me, and before I can get away, he lifts me up with a savage grip on my jacket.

The material tears at the top, nearly revealing my chest bandage, and I dig my nails into his hand while I grab whatever I can of my jacket to keep it in place.

For the first time, I’m glad to be wearing my combat gear over my T-shirt and, therefore, won’t be fully naked, even if he rips it.

But that would put my chest bandages into question.

His palm wraps around my neck, applying enough pressure to cut off my breathing. I wheeze, but little to no air sprinkles into my lungs.

My legs flail in midair while the other soldiers taunt, laugh, and snicker. Matvey slams my back against the wall and reaches for my pants.

“Let us see those miniscule balls.”

I thrash, scratch, and scream, but only a haunting sound escapes my lips.

Each of Matvey’s goons clutches a limb and glues it to the wall behind me, effectively stopping me from moving.

Matvey smirks when he sees the horrified expression on my face, then slowly releases my neck to dedicate his whole attention to my pants.

Please, stop it, is at the tip of my tongue, but if I say that, there’s no doubt they’ll take this further. They’ll be enticed by my begging and will be tempted to prove that I’m indeed weak.

“Fuck you,” I snarl, even as my voice chokes and the last of my hopes start to shrivel and die.

Matvey’s response is a wide grin. “But you’re the one who probably likes to take it up the ass, sodomite.”

I sneer, wanting—no, needing—to poke his eyes out for being a bigoted asshole.

Matvey is every bit of the toxic masculinity that’s wrong with this place. He believes that a man should be macho and show no emotions or else he’s labeled subhuman. According to his stupid, uninformed logic, being gay is also a weakness. Which is what he and his friends have called me ever since I got here.

I’m neither a man nor gay, but I still feel the offense on behalf of everyone Matvey must’ve put through this discrimination.

Being a woman in a man's world is just as bad.

Which is part of the reason I cut my hair and joined the army as a man. My uncle helped me by bribing the physical examiner and a few other officials to keep my gender a secret and help me integrate into this institution.

If my gender is found out, I will be killed. Simple as that.

Now, if Matvey, of all people, discovers that bit of information, I’m fucked.

I push my whole body forward in one last desperate attempt to set myself free, but that only causes them to tighten their holds on my limbs.

Matvey is unbuckling my pants, and I can feel sweat covering my skin. Hyperventilation starts to set in, slowly but surely devouring my inner assertiveness.

In my twenty years of life, this is the second time I’ve felt this helpless and torn and that there was no way out.

The first was when I lost most of my family and had to run for my life.

The chain of current events plays in my mind's eye. Matvey will find out I’m a woman, he and his goons could assault me, and then they’ll either report me to the captain, or they will demand sexual favors in return for keeping my secret.

Blackmail or being kicked out of the safest place for me. Hell, I could even be thrown in jail for lying to the military institution.

“You’re an obedient little fucker, aren’t you? Bet you’re submissive and shit.” Matvey licks his lips in a suggestive way.

“Your broken dick would testify otherwise.” I glare at him. “Guess that makes you the submissive one, motherfucker.”