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

The space is small but has character. A vintage green sofa and matching chairs form a circle. A plant with small white flowers sits in the middle of a glass coffee table. There’s also a dark green antique teapot and two cups.

The couple obviously loves green, because their carpets and wallpaper also have green in them. Even the mantle over the fireplace that’s blazing with the wood I chopped for Nicholas yesterday has Russian dolls dressed in green sitting on it.

Upon seeing us, Doctor Nicholas abandons watching a rerun of an old show.

He’s older than Nadia and has a wrinkled face but a surprisingly straight posture for someone his age. He’s not overweight like my father, who wheezes and turns blue after walking a few steps.

“Do you feel better, child?” he asks Sasha.

Her expression softens as she nods. “I do. Once again, thank you so much. I’ll make sure to repay you one day.”

He throws up a dismissive hand. “There’s a saying I believe in. It’s about doing good and forgetting about it.”

“We’re still thankful, Doctor,” I say.

“It’s Nicholas, I tell you. Come, come, sit by the fire.”

“I’m going to see if Nadia needs any help.” Sasha starts to walk, but the woman in question appears in the kitchen doorway.

“Nonsense. I need no help. And what are you doing out of bed?” She fixates Sasha with a stern motherly expression.

“I can move.” Sasha pulls from me and does a small turn. “It’s good to walk around instead of staying in bed all day, right?”

“Not if you strain yourself.”

Sasha completely ignores her and steps toward the kitchen, a small smile painted on her lips.

This girl obviously knows no fear, or maybe it was purged out of her.

It’s not that I don’t want to be a woman, it’s that I can’t. Those are the words she said, and even though I already categorized the situation to be none of my business, I find myself thinking about it.

In the beginning, I assumed she went through all the trouble of disguising herself because she wanted to be a man, which is why I respected her wishes and even addressed her as a man. Turns out, she has to be a man because being a woman is dangerous. She has a natural feminine aura, so does that mean she hasn’t been pretending to be a man for very long?

Besides, as much as she tries to hide it, she has a very posh, educated way of using words. I know because it resembles Yulia’s manner of speech that somehow affected my own Russian. One doesn’t talk like that unless they were brought up a certain way that includes private tutors and a high standing in Russian society.

There’s also a finesse to her movements, despite the manly image she tries to project. It’s mixed with a naïve softness of someone who has been both sheltered and taught nothing of the world. At times, when Maksim blabbers on about mundane things, she listens with keen curiosity as if it’s the first time she’s heard of it.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out she was a princess before the military and the gender change.

How someone like her ended up in the lowest rank of the army is a mystery.

“Don’t worry. Nadia will take care of her.”

Nicholas’s voice alerts me to the fact that I’ve continued staring at the entrance of the kitchen long after the two women have disappeared inside.

I internally shake my head and take the seat opposite him. He pours me a cup of tea, and I thank him for it, then take a sip, even though I’m not a fan.

“She’s a strong young lady.” Nicholas’s voice rises over the TV, whose volume is already low. Unlike his wife, he speaks in a serene tone, soothing and welcoming.

“Strong?” I ask.

“Yes. She’s out of danger now, but when I first saw her, I thought she wouldn’t make it through the night.”

I actually thought that, too. She’s still a bit pale, but it doesn’t compare to the pasty complexion and blue lips she had when we arrived.

“It takes a lot of willpower to hang on to life like that.” Nicholas fingers the rim of his cup. “It could be due to either a strong love or a strong hate.”

“Why do you think it would be one of the two?”

“An intuition.” He smiles. “I assume it’s the love part that kept her going.”

Nah. It’s definitely hate.

From the first day I met her, Sasha has been fighting and trying to be strong, and that’s only because she’s needed that strength to fight whoever poses a danger to the female version of her.

It took me some time, but I’m starting to put the pieces of the puzzle that is Sasha into place.

“You’re lucky to be the subject of such love, son,” Nicholas says. “Take it from me, it’s a blessing to come across, and if you don’t protect it, using your life if needed, you might regret it for the rest of your days.”

I smile politely, nodding in agreement. Then he goes on to tell me about his wife and how he nearly lost her once and how they eloped, lost one son, married off another, and sent the third abroad.

It's an interesting tale that keeps my head occupied from the niggling doubt about the operation from fucking hell.

Thirty-eight hours now.

Viktor still hasn’t gotten in touch.

It could be because of the storm. It has to be.