Page 42 of Monsters Carve Thrones (Crowned Monsters Duet #2)

RAFE

We emerged into the open air, and for the first time in weeks, I could breathe. The estate behind us was eerily silent. The kind of that only followed death. We had ended it. Every last one of them. No one would ever hurt her again.

Kieran and Nico flanked me, their breaths hard, guns still in hand. I glanced behind us once, just to be sure, but there was no movement. Just smoke curling from broken windows and blood staining the steps. I swung my head back, and my gaze landed on Adela in front of me.

My girl.

God, my girl.

She stumbled toward the black car waiting at the tree line, where Laura stood with a gun in one hand and her other arm blocking the housekeeper. She’d helped keep Adela alive. I’d thank her properly.

But before I could reach the car, Adela faltered. Her steps slowed, and her shoulders trembled. Then, her whole body began to shake.

“Adela.” Her name left me in a whisper as I moved. She was gripping the car door, knuckles white, her eyes unfocused. “No, no, no–baby, I’ve got you.”

The housekeeper was already reaching for her, murmuring soft things in Russian as she helped steady her, but Adela’s knees buckled anyway. I caught her before she hit the ground.

Her body collapsed heavily into mine, shaking, sobbing, soaked in blood and dirt.

The adrenaline that had carried her this far had finally given out.

I lifted her gently, my heart breaking for her.

I set her in the back seat, cupping her face between my hands.

I couldn’t stop touching her. Her cheeks. Her hair. Her lips.

She was real.

She was alive.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered. “I’ve got you, little doe.”

Her hands clung to my shirt, her sobs wrecking me as they tore through her. I could feel every one of them in my ribs, in my bones, in my fucking soul. “I never thought I’d see you again,” she cried. “I thought I was going to die today trying to get out. But you guys came for me.”

Laura and the woman watched with concern, their faces shadowed, as they stood protectively by the car. I glanced up at them through the open door. “Who…” My voice cracked. I had to clear my throat. “Who are you?”

The woman stepped forward. Her eyes were warm, soft, and tired. “My name is Olesya. I was the housekeeper for Mr. Waylon. She saved me, too.”

My throat clenched. “Thank you,” I rasped. “For helping my wife.”

She smiled, and it lit something in me. “She’s the brave one. I only followed her.”

I turned back to Adela, stroking her damp hair from her face. Her eyes fluttered open and found mine.

Nearly three months.

Three months of rage. Blood. Nightmares.

And now I was holding her.

“I need to grab files,” I said to no one in particular, my voice low and ragged. “Documents. Anything that could be useful.”

Kieran’s hand landed on my shoulder. “We’ll go,” he said. “You stay with her.”

I looked up, startled by the weight of those words.

Nico gave me a tight nod. “She needs you.”

My throat ached. I couldn’t speak. I just nodded, and they turned back toward the house.

I slid into the backseat beside her. And the moment the door shut behind me, she broke completely.

Her cries turned desperate and raw, like an open wound that finally had room to bleed.

She curled into me, and I held her as tight as I dared, whispering into her hair, my arms wrapping around her like I could shield her from all of it.

“I’m here,” I breathed. “I’m here now. You’re safe. I swear to God, you’re safe.” She clung to me like a drowning woman to the shore, and I let her. I wanted her to. Because I was her shore. And I would destroy everything before I ever let her drown again.

***

We got back to our hotel room under the cover of night.

No one said much. No one really could. Adela hadn’t spoken since her sobs faded in the car.

She sat pressed against me, her body still trembling every few minutes like her system was purging the last dregs of terror.

Her fingers remained curled in the fabric of my jacket, even as her eyes stared forward, glassy and distant.

“Let me show you your room, babe,” Laura whispered, gently guiding Adela down the hall.

I called and got Olesya a room across the hall from ours. She didn’t protest. Just nodded and gave me that tired, gracious smile again.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice low but steady.

“For everything,” I replied, and I meant it. “Should you need anything, please let me know.” I scribbled my number down on a small sticky note.

She nodded, her gaze sweeping over my tired face. “Take care of her, please. She went through hell.”

I swallowed hard, feeling the burn of tears behind my eyes.

“Let me get you something, hold on.” I made it to the safe located in the bedroom, grabbing a wad of cash.

When I returned, her eyes widened at what I held in my hand.

“This is fifty thousand dollars. Please, take it. Get a place of your own, and take care of yourself.”

Olesya’s bottom lip wobbled. “I...I…”

“It’s okay.” I pulled her into a quick hug. “Call if you need to. Or want to.”

She smiled up at me, tears flowing down her cheeks. Kieran, Laura, and Nico exchanged glances with me as I closed the door behind Olesya. A wordless pact between all of us: give her space. Give her time. Be ready for whatever Adela needs.

Inside our room, I shut the door softly behind us. She had barely looked at me once we started our drive here. “Shower?” I asked gently. “Might help. Wash it all off.”

Adela looked up at me then, and Christ, it nearly broke me.

The weight in her eyes… I’d never seen anything like it.

So much pain. So much exhaustion. And somewhere underneath, a flicker of something that still glowed.

Some piece of her that refused to die, no matter how much that fucker tried to snuff it out.

I couldn’t breathe.

Laura knocked a minute later and handed me a set of clothes through the cracked door. I took them silently and thanked her with a nod. “Black leggings,” she murmured. “And my loose blue shirt. Soft cotton.”

Adela’s eyes widened when I offered the clothes to her. She stared down at the leggings like they were a ghost from another life. Like they...unnerved her. Then she looked up at me again.

I didn’t ask.

I just reached out and brushed her hair behind her ear. “Take your time,” I said quietly. “I’ll be right here.”

She disappeared into the bathroom. I closed the door behind her with a soft click, pressing my palm against the wood for a second longer than I needed to.

And then I turned around, dragging a hand through my hair.

Nico was seated on the couch already. Kieran stood by the balcony door, arms crossed. Laura was pacing.

“She hasn’t said a word since the car,” Laura said, her voice tight.

“She doesn’t have to,” I murmured. “She’s in shock.”

“Of course, she’s in shock,” Kieran said, softer than expected. “But she’s also Adela. She’s strong. She’ll find her way back.”

“Not if we don’t watch her,” Nico added. “That kind of trauma… it can stick. Deep.”

“We know what that fucking asshole did to her,” Laura nearly snarled, her voice cracking on a sob.

I nodded slowly, jaw clenched. “I know.” The truth was, I didn’t know what the hell she needed yet. But I knew I would give her anything. Everything . I would sit with her through the silence or fight through every scream. I didn’t care.

I just needed her to come back to me.

“She’ll talk when she’s ready,” I said finally, voice like gravel. “And when she does, we listen. We don’t push.”

Laura stepped closer, her eyes locked on mine. “We’ve got her, Rafe. You don’t have to do it alone.”

I looked down at my hands. Blood still stained them. “She was alone for almost three months,” I said. “She doesn’t ever have to be alone again.”

And I meant it with everything I had left.

The vodka burned going down, but not nearly enough.

“Jesus Christ,” Nico muttered, blood slicking his gloves as he dug into my shoulder with the tweezers.

I gritted my teeth so hard I thought they might crack. The pain was blinding, white-hot, like someone was pouring fire into the wound. I didn’t make a sound.

Kieran winced beside me, arms crossed tightly, trying to stay calm, but his face was pale. Laura sat on the edge of the table, staring hard at the floor, refusing to look at the mess of flesh and metal being carved out of my body.

“Almost there,” Nico said under his breath, sweat dotting his brow. “Fucker’s deep.”

“I can take it,” I rasped, my good hand tightening around the vodka bottle. I took another long swig. It wasn’t helping.

“Do we have oxy?” I asked, barely moving my jaw.

Laura looked up sharply. “You just –” Then she saw my face. Whatever she saw there made her mouth snap shut.

Kieran exhaled slowly. “Rafe. You just detoxed. You go down that road again, and you might not come back.”

I said nothing for a long beat, just breathing through the pain, eyes locked on the ceiling. My whole arm was shaking, blood running down my chest and ribs in warm rivulets. “I won’t take it,” I said finally. “Just needed to ask.”

“Good,” Kieran murmured. “Just drink. It’ll hurt like hell, but you’ll survive.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, voice hoarse. “I’m used to it.”

Nico finally let out a breath. “Got it.” He dropped the bloodied slug into a tray and started patching me up while I sat there, silent, breathing hard. The alcohol buzz was finally kicking in, enough to dull the edge but not enough to erase the fact that there was a hole in my goddamn shoulder.

Adela was still in the shower.

The sound of the water drifted faintly from the bedroom. I turned my head slightly toward the closed door. She hadn’t made a sound since she went in.

I wanted to kick the door down and hold her.