Series: Series by Ker Dukey
Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Tears stream down my face, my soul fracturing all over again.
Cupping my cheeks, his thumbs swipe at the tears. “I would have given you everything and you returned my devotion with desertion.”
“I was scared,” I whimper, a truth I can offer him. “I’m still scared, Z. Not just for us, but for her.” I clutch his wrists. “Look what’s happened already. Jeremiah was murdered a few feet from her bedroom.”
Dropping his hands, he turns back to Roza’s crib, gripping the polished wooden rail and gazing down at her tiny belly rising and falling with each suckle of her bottle. “She’s our child, Alyona,” he says, his voice low and filled with conviction. “When a life is born into darkness, that darkness inevitably influences your path, shaping the very essence of who you become.” Turning back to me, he offers me the most gentle of smiles. “Like us, she'll learn to thrive within it, adapting and growing stronger.” The back of his hand strokes a path down my cheek. “The shadows may brush against her, but I promise, we will never allow anyone to harm her. You should know that.”
The only thing I know is as long as Yuri lives, she’ll never be safe.
“Is everything okay?” Rodion’s deep voice rumbles from behind us.
Wiping away my stray tears, I clear my throat and reach for my baby girl. “Roza needs a diaper change.”
“You shouldn’t lift her,” Rodion snaps, quickly coming over to take her from me. “You need to heal, Alyona.”
I stand there with my hands outstretched, my mouth slightly open in surprise. He cradles her as if he has done it a thousand times, and she rests her head on his shoulder, snuggling into his neck. Zahkar’s splayed palm goes to her back, gently rubbing, and I feel dizzy for an entirely different reason. Emotion chokes me up, and it’s so overwhelming that I have to turn away from them.
“The doctor left more antibiotics on the counter. You need to finish the course, and we need to change the dressing twice a day,” Rodion says behind me. “Now, where is Roza’s changing station?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Zahkar
Since finding Rodion, I’ve never really given my own bloodline much thought. I was content with the life we’d built, and the family gifted to me when Andru adopted me. That changed when I stared down into Roza’s crib.
I saw myself staring back at me.
Unreal.
I never wanted kids, but an overwhelming sense of protectiveness and belonging filled my chest as she raised a hand toward me. She is mine, ours. And I will raise the oceans and bring down the skies on anyone who threatens to harm her.
Your parents couldn’t keep you safe…
But they didn’t have the resources I have, the ruthless training I’ve spent my whole life perfecting, or even a fraction of my net worth.
I did wonder when it first happened what could have gotten my family killed. I’m not naïve enough to believe it didn’t change me in a fundamental way. Coming to Alyona’s aid last night and almost feeling my heart burst from my chest at the fear of what I’d find when walking through the door is telling enough, but that’s buried trauma. We all carry that.
It’s all been a little bit murky though. As if, until the moment I saw Roza, I’d pushed that time in my life to the dark recesses of my mind.
What I do remember is we had originally moved to Russia to flee from something terrible my brother had done. He was always bringing trouble to the house. But that was where my curiosity ended. I was too busy building an empire with Rodion to let the past take up space in my mind. Now I want to know if there’s anything in my history that could endanger Roza. I need to know. Every potential enemy or problem will need to be intensely scrutinized and dealt with. Immediately.
“You can talk to her, you know. She can understand some things,” Alyona says, coming from the kitchen with a snack for Roza.
I’m in awe as the little girl—our little girl—claps her hands and then gets to her feet. She toddles toward Alyona, wobbling and unsteady, and falls on her butt as soon as the snack is in her grip. So fucking cute.
I’m surprised how well Alyona looks today. The fluids and antibiotics worked like magic. There's color in her cheeks and life in her eyes. We spent the morning just being in each other's presence.
“You love your cookies, don’t you, Roza?” Alyona coos down at our daughter, swiping a cloth over her mouth to collect dribble.
I have no experience with babies, but I’m pretty sure ours is perfect. I don’t understand why baby age is calculated in months. Still, when I asked Alyona about Roza’s age, she proudly announced that she is fifteen months old and has met all her developmental milestones. Whatever the fuck that means, I plan to find out. I want to know everything a parent should. I’m going to be what she needs.