Page 122 of Sire

“Easy.” Viktor surrenders his hands. “I’m not here to rouse our proudest lion.”

“Fuck you, I’m not his lion, and I’m not his heir.”

Lions are the supporters of our family shield, but I never saw them as representing our father.

No, I have them inked on my skin, all my brothers do, to honor our mother.

She’s the lioness, the reason we survived.

“You’ve been playing games again, Sergei.” He halts, steps away, admonishing me like a child. “You make deals with your father and don’t honor them.”

“He’s a wife-beater and child abuser; I’ll never honor him. But Iwillkill him.”

“That’s not necessary.” He nods toward the cross. “We all meet our maker one day.”

“Ready to meet yours now?”

My pulse doesn’t race. I’m numb. Stone. Cold. Possessed by the spirit who remembers being burned.

“No, I’m here to discuss a new deal.”

I huff a laugh. “Dead men make no deals.”

Calmly, Viktor sits in the second pew, crossing his leg over the other like a vile gentleman. “Perhaps you are willing to die in lieu of a deal, but what about your breathtaking wife? You’ve chosen well. Your father is impressed. She’s nice, strong stock.”

Rage fills my exhale, logic firing across my brain.Wren’s safe in my office.She knows I keep a gun hidden under my desk, too.

“No,” I counter, “I’ve chosen never to have a child until I get Axel’s back.” His eyes widen.Fuck, I’m right, and it makes me sick.It makes me seethe, “Who did you take from him? His daughter or his son?”

Viktor gloats, “My grandson thrives. He adores his mother and father.”

I reel.Axel has a son. Taken from him.This will kill him.

Choking on guilt and grief, I rage, “Ruslan isnotmy nephew’s father, and Ruslan knows it. Why would he take Axel’s son when he only wants mine?”

Evilly, Viktor shrugs. “You left us no choice. We have a spare, now we want an heir.”

“Never,” I snarl.

“Well then, perhaps we can make an alternate exchange. There is another piece of you we want.”

“Piece of me?” Bitterly, I huff, bearing burns from my father. They may hide under my ink, but not from my soul. “No, he’s taken enough from us.”

“Then we won’ttakethis time. We’ll accept a donation.”

My blood? Is that why my father asked about it?

Viktor lowers his voice. “Your father has a genetic condition that causes kidney disease. He needs a transplant. He?—”

“He needsmykidney?”

Of course, he does.

Karma never fails.

“Or, one from your brothers.” Viktor raises his bushy eyebrow. “But you don’t want that, do you, Sergei? Then they’ll know what you did.”

“I did nothing but keep my family safe.”