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

“We don’t know that. No one does. But there’s one thing for certain. If you go back there, all the effort they put into you will be for nothing.” I release her. “If that’s what you want, go right ahead.”

Her lips purse, then she grinds her teeth and releases a sound of absolute desperation.

This time, she can’t seem to control the tears that pour out, soaking her chin. She tries to wipe them away and miserably fails to put an end to them.

“Why am I so weak?” She dabs at her eyes with both hands even as she cries like a baby.

“You’re not weak.” I pat her shoulder. “You’re just human.”

It’s only a simple gesture and a few words to make her snap the fuck out of it, but it’s as if I’ve opened Pandora’s box.

Sasha throws her whole weight against me. Her head leans on my chest, and her sniffles echo in the air.

“I can’t…I just can’t stop thinking about how it’s all because of me… Everyone dies because I exist in their lives…”

Who’s everyone?

I don’t ask that, though, knowing full well that she’s not in the right state of mind to answer. Or that if I do ask, she might pull away, and that option doesn’t necessarily appeal to me.

She places her chin on my chest, staring up at me with eyes so wretched and full of pain, they nearly appear black. “Am I cursed?”

“Only if you believe you are. Try to think that you’re not.”

An ironic smile lifts the corner of her full lips. “You make it sound so easy.”

“You can make it easy.”

She buries her face in my chest again and nuzzles her nose in my clothes. My hand twitches, but I have no fucking clue if it’s to remove her or hold her closer to me.

One thing’s for certain, her closeness has become fucking unbearable ever since the day she ‘unknowingly’ dry humped me.

I was seconds away from pinning her down, tearing her clothes off, biting her skin, and fucking her until she cried and screamed.

Every time she’s come close since, I’ve been having the same images. Only, they’ve intensified tenfold.

Like right now.

It doesn’t matter that she’s grieving or having a weak moment that she hates so much. All I can think about is biting, marking, and sucking on her skin. Maybe even confiscating these tears so that they belong only to me.

So no one else but me will be able to see her in this state.

My body goes rigid despite myself. The weight of the image and the need to act on it are clashing, and the only loser is my resolve.

If Sasha notices the change, she doesn’t act on it and continues crying in my chest.

I close my eyes and tip my head up.

Fuck.

These are going to be the longest few hours of my life.





14





SASHA





Nadia’s and Nicholas’s deaths hit me hard.

It felt like the massacre all over again. Their bodies in all that blood was a cruel reminder of my parents, my cousin, and everyone who left me forever.

I’m not even close to dealing with that, but just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, they dramatically have.

After Viktor picked us up from the cottage, it took us almost a day to arrive at the base since they couldn’t deploy a helicopter.

That’s when we were hit by one piece of devastating news after the other.

Rulan and his entire unit were wiped out.

Viktor lost two men, and a few others were wounded.

The general atmosphere at the base is so tense and thick, it could be cut with a knife.

A depressive mood worse than mine hardens the men’s expressions and ages them beyond their years.

When I was out there during the mission, all I thought about was eliminating targets. I chose not to think about the scattered remains of our men in the snow.

Or the blood.

Or the pain that would cause.

Now, however, all the emotions hit me in one go. It’s excruciating and surreal to think we lost people I used to eat, train, and play football with.

Most were young, ambitious, and had their entire future ahead of them.

Rulan…the man with furious loyalty and a headstrong personality, is gone. For good.

I cast a glance at Kirill, who’s striding to where the wounded are with Viktor. He doesn’t stop to change his clothes or to answer to the higher-ups who must be waiting for a report on the mission. He chose his men.

His expression remains neutral, collected, and absolutely undisturbed as he pats one soldier on the shoulder and nods at another.

Either he’s unfeeling or a man of steel who’s not familiar with the concept of emotions. It’s why he could be so detached from Nadia’s and Nicholas’s deaths.

It’s also why he could keep a cool head while receiving the news of his men’s deaths.

It’s precisely why he’s the captain. No one else but him would be able to pull what remains of the unit together.

“Sasha!”

I whirl around just in time to be engulfed in a bro hug. I wrap my arm around Maksim’s back and wince when he squeezes my bad shoulder.

He steps back. “What is it? You okay?”

“Just a little gunshot wound.” I roll my arm. “I’m good as new, though.”

“Jesus, man. I thought we’d lost you and the captain.”