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Levka is writhing in a pool of his own blood, staring at the ceiling. The three guards who were loyal to him are all dead with holes in their heads. The fourth guy, Damaskin, is also down and unmoving.

Rurik looks like he’s looking death in the face, lying on his side, his hands pressed to two holes in his chest.

But it’s her father, slumped against a wall, clutching a wound to his stomach, that Milena bolts to.

“Papa!” she sobs, holding him close, her face a mask of agony. “Papa, hold on!”

There’s movement in my peripheral vision. My eyes swivel sideways, and I stiffen when I see Levka slowly reaching for the gun by his outstretched hand.

“Milena...”

My voice is gone, either from roaring earlier, or the beatings, or maybe the gallon of vodka that got poured over my face. Regardless, I can’t speak, and Levka is inches away from that fucking gun.

Pure adrenaline explodes through my body. Maybe it’s the last surge of energy I’ll ever feel.

…Maybe I don’t give a fuck, so long as it means keeping her from harm.

I flex, straining at the ropes as pure pain surges through my whole body. My vision cuts in and out. Blood leaks into my eyes.

I keep pulling. Keep wrenching. Keep fighting.

For her.

My shoulder isdefinitelydislocated—numb, pulsing with raw pain, and my arm on that side is limp.

But right now, that’s actually an advantage.

I twist, gritting my teeth as searing pain almost takes my consciousness away. The ropes slip, greased by blood and sweat. My eyes roll back and agony threatens to drag me into the darkness.

…Just as my arm slips free.

Limp, butfree.

And I only need one.

Milena is still cradling her father. She doesn’t see Levka inching toward the gun.

I get my feet under me, trying to stand up with the chair still tied to one arm and around my ribs. But just as I’m finding my footing in the pool of slick blood, Levka’s fingers curl around the gun.

No.

“There’s a new king of this empire,” he rasps as he swings the gun around and aims it right at Milena. “And he has no need for a princess.”

I kick my feet, hurling myself across the room with a roar, throwing my whole body at Levka.

I crash into him, sending his shot into the ceiling before I go toppling over him and land with a sickening crunch on the ground.

My vision dims.

My pulse slows to a crawl.

That was it. That was the last I have inside me.

It’s only then, when my eyes struggle to focus, that I realize something horrible.

…It wasn’t enough.

Levka groans, blood flowing from his bullet wound and the gash in the head I just gave him. But he still gets to his feet, stumbling toward me like a drunk.