Page 24

I can’t fucking wait.

Chapter

Six

Allegra

Darkness descends around me in a blanket of smoke. Hands reach for me.

Too many hands. They tear at my skin.

Fire flares through the darkness, burning through my soul.

I try to get away. To save myself. Then Gabrielle’s face appears before me. Pale with terror, eyes wide with pain, her mouth open in a bone-chilling scream. I reach for her, my hands coming away with blood and smoke.

I can’t get to her.

“Wake up,” a gruff accented voice commands. It belongs to a woman. One I don’t recognize. “Wake up, girl.”

The nightmare dissolves and I’m met with blinding sunlight.

I squint against the sharp rays and move my head to the side. I open my eyes again and find myself staring at an elderly woman with a mean look.

It takes a moment for my brain to settle, but it’s only when the woman straightens that I realize I’m not in that nightmare anymore.

I’m in a different one.

I sit up, my gaze meeting the dark blue walls and walnut furniture around us. And I’m in a bed. A bed with satin sheets that match the walls. Worse is that scent hanging in the air. Sandalwood. Musk. Power. Danger.

The scent of him.

Lev Karsavin.

“I have brought you something to eat and drink,” the woman says. Her voice isn’t kind, and the expression on her face is as cold as my captor’s. “I’ll give you ten minutes then come back to fetch you.”

She points to a tray of food on the nightstand. I take in the carefully laid out pastries and a silver coffee pot. Next to that sits a steaming mug of coffee already poured. Then every memory from last night rushes back, rising with the steam coming from the cup.

The invasion, Lev’s brother taking me, me trying to escape, Lev finding me. That kiss. That stupid kiss that threw me off guard… while he drugged me.

I don’t want any food from here. No fucking way.

“I’m not hungry.” I meet the woman’s crow-like gaze.

“Then I will take you now. Mr. Karsavin wants to see you.”

Mr. Karsavin.

The very sound of his name makes my weary soul want to flee. I keep talking about running. God, I even tried. But in the end, I’m always forced to face the fact that I’m trapped.

I was trapped the night Gabrielle was murdered, too. I haven’t had any nightmares about that night or the time surrounding it in a while. Given my current situation, I’m not surprised one came back to haunt me.

“I want to go home.” The words are fruitless. I know that. Still, they seem to crack the woman’s harsh exterior.

“You will need to speak to him.”

Damn it. I don’t want to see that man ever again, but what choice do I have?

And this bed… It smells of him. Just like the rest of the room.