Page 39 of Deceptive Vows (Bound by Vows #3)

Chapter Thirty-One

NAZAR

We advanced through a labyrinth of forgotten medical rooms and storage closets. I’d memorized the blueprints during our hasty planning session, the facility layout burned into my mind despite the concussion.

“Holding cells—east basement, two levels down,” I whispered, pointing toward a service stairwell.

A door banged open to our left. Three Wolves emerged, weapons raised.

I instinctively dropped to the floor to avoid their fire, the sudden movement sending agony through my already damaged body.

Something shifted inside my chest—a broken rib finding new ways to torment me as it ground against bone.

Lucas’s team answered with precise fire. Silence fell as quickly as the bodies.

“No more surprises.” I pushed myself up and fought the black spots at the edges of my vision. “They’re hunting now.”

Alarms wailed from deeper in the building as gunfire echoed from the west wing where Dimitris’s team engaged.

“Move,” Lucas urged, eyeing my unstable stance.

I ignored him. “This way.”

The deeper we moved, the more my adrenaline faded, leaving my ribs burning and my head throbbing. The stitches pulled with each movement, sending sharp reminders that I wasn’t at peak performance.

A security door blocked our path. Before I could examine it, a guard lunged from a side room, slamming me against the concrete wall. The world flashed white, then momentarily black.

I drove my knee into his gut hard enough to feel something tear then cracked his skull with the butt of my Makarov. He dropped. Didn’t get back up.

Lucas fired off a clean shot as insurance.

I leaned against the wall, drawing ragged breaths as the corridor tilted around me. Lucas gripped my shoulder.

“Pull back,” he ordered. “You’re done.”

“Not ‘til she’s safe,” I snarled, shoving his hand away.

He glared, then nodded reluctantly. “If you die, she’s going to kill me.”

“Trust me, you’re safe,” I muttered, turning my attention to the security door.

The electronic lock was disabled by the power cut, but a manual override remained. I knelt with picks in hand, ignoring my ribs’ protest.

My fingers shook, slick with sweat despite the cold. Ribs flared like broken glass, shifting with every breath.

Lucas covered the corridor, his voice low and lethal.

“You’re wasting time.”

“Then shut up and cover me.”

The lock yielded with a satisfying click.

“Ready,” I announced, straightening with effort.

The service corridor beyond reeked of mildew and abandonment. We moved forward cautiously, our ears straining against the distant sounds of conflict. At a T-junction, whispers floated from the left—soft footsteps, controlled breathing.

I paused at the corner. Someone waited in the darkness, a shadow shifting against the wall. Lucas tensed behind me, his weapon ready.

One breath. Two.

I stepped around the corner with my Makarov raised—and froze.

Thea stared back, a piece of sharp metal held tightly in her hand, face half-shadowed in crimson light. Disbelief and hope warred in her eyes.

“Nazar?” Her voice came as a whisper, fragile with uncertainty.

My gun dropped to my side as relief flooded through me. “Thea.”

Her name escaped as a raw confession. She crashed into me, knife clattering to the floor. I caught her by instinct, not strength. My knees buckled. Her arms were fierce around my waist. A tremor ran through her body as her hands rose to cup my face, her thumbs tracing my jaw with wonder.

“I saw you die,” she whispered, her eyes searching mine.

I pressed my forehead to hers, our breath mingling in the space between us.

“Not yet,” I rasped. “Nyet, tyomnyy angel . I made you a vow.”