Eira’s POV
The distant hum of helicopters reached my ears first, followed quickly by the sharp, relentless crack of gunfire. The sound swelled, filling the air with chaos, yet I remained seated, unmoving.
Roman had warned earlier that their enemies might attack. It seed he had been right.
But I felt nothing—no fear, no panic. Those emotions had abandoned long ago, leaving hollow. The last ti they had returned was that night... the night they tortured with tarantulas.
Roman strode into the drawing room, his tone clipped and commanding. "Eira, get to the safe room."
I looked down at Vixen, warm and curled in my lap. Even if I didn’t care for myself, I cared for her. She was pregnant, and there was no way I would allow her—or her unborn kittens—to be hard.
I rose, holding her gently, and made my way to the hidden safe room, following the instructions Roman had given before. He didn’t wait to see if I complied—by the ti I reached the concealed door, he was already gone.
Inside, the room was plain but well-prepared, stocked for survival: a folded mattress with a thin blanket in one corner, shelves lined with bottled water and packaged snacks, and even a small toilet tucked against the far wall.
I placed Vixen on the mattress and found two empty bowls. One I filled with dry snacks, the other with fresh water. Satisfied she would be comfortable, I stepped back toward the door. This place was the safest for her, no matter what happened beyond these walls.
I didn’t lock the door. Instead, I left it slightly ajar—narrow enough that she couldn’t slip out, but open enough that, if sothing happened, soone could find her. She couldn’t remain here forever or she would die.
Outside, the sound of shattering glass pierced the air as bullets tore through the windows. Sharp cracks and dull thuds echoed against the walls, leaving dents in the plaster. Explosions shook the ground, each one rumbling through the floorboards.
It was like standing in the heart of a warzone.
And yet... I wasn’t afraid.
Because for years, I had been seeking one thing above all else—death. Perhaps this was it. My chance. If nothing interfered, if nothing ca between and the end, maybe I could finally have it.
But in these past years, I had also learned sothing else. The more I sought death, the more it seed to run from .
Bastard.
My feet were still hurt, and despite trying to ignore that pain—thinking it wouldn’t do any shit to —I was still unable to make it out fast. Utterly weak, despite my will being stronger.
I just hoped at least a bullet entering through the window would hit straight, but damn, not only did few enter here and there, none of them were in my direction. What kind of shit fate did I have? What kind of enmity did death have with to not give in to my wishes?
Death must be a man—and just like every other man, that bastard wants to suffer. But I was stubborn as well.
Sohow, I managed to reach the exit of the ho and saw the chaos outside—bullet fires from all sides, huge helicopters lingering in the air, blasts, and many figures moving like shadows, so falling to the ground.
I made my way outside from another direction, making sure Roman and the others wouldn’t spot , so I would be found by their enemies and they would shoot without even a mont’s delay.
Slowly, steadily, determined, I continued to make my way toward where I could see bullets being fired toward the ho. Soon, two n—who seed like soldiers—appeared before , their guns pointed toward .
I looked at them with a steady gaze as I was not scared. That’s it. Shoot now. My soul will always be thankful to you.
But the bastards started to lower their guns. What the hell? Why are they not shooting instead? Want to fuck before doing that?
For God’s sake, at least just once in your life, think from your non-existent brains, and not from your cocks.
But then, one of them was shot straight in the forehead and fell to the ground, while the other one pointed his gun toward the direction from where the bullet had co...
The next mont I knew—there was a bullet shot, and a huge wolf had jumped on the soldier before and ripped away his head.
A huge wolf with molten bronze fur, his mouth coated with blood, turned to , stepping toward —but I didn’t fear. He was soone I knew, a familiar wolf.
But then, the next mont, he collapsed on the ground, converting back to his human form. There was blood around his chest, a huge wound over his heart. The bullet had shot him straight in the heart—his eyes closed, brows knitted in pain, his chest barely moving to breathe.
In a mont, that scene was replaced with the scariest and most painful mory of my life.
Alice.
Instead of Lucian, I saw Alice there.
She was right in front of on the ground, a bullet shot in her heart and losing her life. I hurried to her and knelt next to her.
"Alice... I am sorry... I didn’t an to shoot you..." My trembling hands reached to her chest, not able to touch the wound, thinking it would hurt her. "I am sorry... I’m sorry..." I cried out. "Please... don’t die... please..."
Alice opened her eyes and looked at . "...You must be happy to see die... goddamn bitch..."
"I am sorry..." I could only mutter the words. "...I didn’t an to..."
"Get the hell away from him." A strong hand pushed away, accompanied by a furious voice, and I stumbled back to the ground.
Roman was kneeling on the ground next to Alice. He looked at the wound on her chest and pressed his hand over it to stop the blood.
"Stay with , alright?" Roman told her. He looked like my last hope to save Alice.
"Roman... this bitch is truly gonna kill every one of us..." I saw Alice tell him in a painful voice. "It’s fine, I die—but kill her before she becos the reason for my brothers’ deaths... Don’t let her kill any of you..."
"You are not going to die, alright," Roman told her. "We will kill her once you make it alive out of here. Trust , I will kill her with my own hands—and you have to stay alive to see it. Just don’t give up..."
I had always known I didn’t deserve to live—not like I even wanted to continue living. It would be better if Roman killed , but I wanted him to save Alice first.
’Please save her,’ I prayed, unable to stop my own tears.
Reality of the present had long skipped , as my delusional mind forgot Alice was already dead—and this was Lucian before .
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