Page 68 of Monsters Carve Thrones

She was somewhere in this goddamn country. I could feel it. Like some invisible tether had drawn tighter the moment we crossed the border. Russia was a big fucking place. But I didn’t need the whole country. I just needed one address.One door.

The hotel we checked into was another false identity, booked under a name I’d used once in Prague when things had gone sideways years ago after a shit deal. Nico made sure the registry trail led nowhere. Kieran swept the rooms like always, paranoid but thorough. Laura stayed quiet while we unpacked, her face drawn tight, knuckles pale around the handle of her luggage. None of us were sleeping anymore, not really.

The suite was smaller than Warsaw. One main bedroom, a living space with two couches, and a kitchenette with a view of the icy canal through frostbitten glass. It would do.

I dropped my duffel on the bed and went straight to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face, scrubbing at the blood under my fingernails. Witek’s voice still echoed in the back of my skull, but I shoved it down with everything else.

I caught my reflection in the mirror. Hollow eyes. Cracked lips. Skin pale, shadowed, aging faster than time should allow. I looked like a man on the edge because I was.

I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a tiny glass vial, already half-empty. Crushed oxy. Just enough to dull the edges. I poured the powder onto the back of my hand, sniffed hard, and exhaled slowly. The burn lit up my nose and settled in my chest like a false peace.

The others didn’t comment anymore when they saw me do it. They just looked away like they fucking pitied me. I stepped out into the living area, rubbing the heel of my palm against one eye.

“We need to find Waleria tomorrow,” Laura said. She was curled up in the corner of the couch, laptop open and fingers flying.

Nico tossed me a water bottle. “You good?”

I nodded, taking a slow sip. “Closer,” I muttered, glancing toward the window and the moonlit city beyond. “She’s here. I know it.”

“She is,” Laura said, softly this time. “We’ll find her.”

I didn’t answer. Just stared out at the dark skyline and imagined tearing this city apart, brick by brick, if that’s what it took to bring her home.

Tomorrow, the hunt began again. But tonight, I stood by the window and listened to the silence. My hands twitched for another fix. My mind screamed with the memory of her voice.

Chapter 13

ADELA

(TW: Brief sexual assault)

Time had melted into a numb blur of forced smiles and hollow nods. I stopped fighting. At least, that’s what I let them believe. Waylon liked it when I was quiet. He liked it more when I whisperedyes, sir, without being prompted, when I lowered my eyes and let him drag his hand along my cheek like I was his pet. Riley ate it up, too. Smirking. Pleased. Telling Waylon over and over how I was “finally learning.”

I was learning, alright.

Learning every inch of this estate, every routine. Every guard rotation, every locked door, every glance exchanged between Waylon’s men when they thought I wasn’t looking. Submission had bought me time. It had kept me alive. But it didn’t mean I’d given up. Not even close.

But it was different now. I kept it low. Controlled. It simmered quietly beneath every bruised rib and aching muscle. I was shrinking myself on purpose, molding my rage into something that would ultimately kill him. He didn’t know I was memorizing things, watching, and counting every goddamn step it would take to get out of here.

I sat in front of the vanity, hair brushing my shoulders, skin paler than I remembered. I looked like a ghost of the woman I used to be, but my eyes were still sharp in the mirror. He hadn’t taken that from me. Not yet.

The door creaked open. Waylon didn’t bark orders. He didn’t have to anymore. I stood slowly, walking to him with my chin tucked, hands folded in front of me like the perfect little thing he thought he’d created.

He brushed a knuckle along my jaw. “There she is,” he murmured. “My prize.”

I didn’t flinch. I tilted my head just slightly, offering a soft smile. “What would you like me to do today?”

He laughed low under his breath. “God, I destroyed you,beautifully.”

You didn’t destroy me. I broke the mirror, and you’re too stupid to notice the shards at your fucking feet.

“I’m taking you to a meeting tonight,” he said, gripping my chin a little tighter. “I want them to see what I’ve made. I want them to see you look at me the way you used to look at him.”

My blood turned to ice.

Rafe.

He still lived in every heartbeat I took. Every breath. Every second I survived was because ofhim. Because I knew he was out there, killing his way to me. “Yes, Waylon,” I said softly.