Page 39 of Sins and Virtue

“Oh my god.” Adrian, for the first time ever, was in disbelief.

Sergei lifted his AR-47 and shot it multiple times, the bullet melting before it could reach the wretched beast.

“Don’t attack!” Mikhail gave the order, holding his hand up as he walked forward. “Wait!” He spoke to the entity. “Then who is worthy?”

The voice grew louder with disdain as it proclaimed, “A child of destiny! Thou who has defeated death, rose from the flames unburned, the Valerian Star, humanity’s champion, and the giver of life shall rule!”

The winged-shaped beast thrashed its wings together, flames erupting as a terrifying screech as the rumble on top of the castle began to fall.

At that moment I only knew one truth. This wasn’t just desecrated but forsaken. Never to be looked upon again for the destruction it could cause.

The ground beneath us felt unsteady, cracking and shifting as if it would cave in at any moment. In a panic, I turned to my brethren, knowing the best thing we could do was run.

“Mikhail, leave it!” The screams of my warning echoed against the stone and suddenly. Breaking the walls of reality until a bright light took over.

Gaining consciousness, I slowly open my eyes, still blurry from slumber.

My chest pounded erratically; a small terror latched on as the bitter memory lingered. Weary, I wondered why I was.

Everything was vaguely familiar as my eyes tracked the wooden desk, maiden drawers, an array of unfinished baskets, and old walls of the room and my back against the soft mattress of the bed that was too small for me.

The sound of crying followed in the bleak night.

The humid air made my throat dry as I wondered why I dreamt of Mikhail and everyone in the Brotherhood. After so many years, it seemed like a lifetime ago.

It all filled me up with regret because, as that voice deemed, we all paid the price with our own lives.

Fuck.

No amount of power, no matter if it was a king’s or capo’s, compared to the strength of that which we couldn't understand.

The bed shook as I caught the whispers of crying.

Wait, crying? Who's crying?

I turned my head to my left, watching Blair’s shoulder heave up and down.

Reaching my hand out, I went to tap her shoulder when I stopped, thinking she might get scared and hate me for touching her without her consent. So I dropped my hand and called out to her.

“Blair. Blair, are you alright?”

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” She rolled around, facing me as her red, stricken eyes revealed the truth, and her voice cracked.

“No, not at all.” I said, simply looking at her, wondering where her tears stemmed from. What pained her? Why? And how could I help?

She snuffled, lifting her fingers to pat her cheeks dry. “Were you having a nightmare?”

My lips parted, hesitating because, well, my past seemed a mix of hell and pleasure; it was the only thing I had. “Yes. No. Something like that.” I shrugged.

Her plump lips tilted up ever so slightly.

“What’s funny, kotyonok?” I said softly.

Her glazed hazel eyes were filled with an unknown kindness. “Just that men like you still have nightmares. I mean, you see a lot of gruesome things, and you don’t second-guess taking someone's life, but seeing you shaken by a nightmare makes you feel human, I guess.”

“What about you? Are you crying because you had a nightmare, kotyonok?”

“No, I was just remembering someone. Someone I miss.”