Page 154 of Lethal King

“You’re at the hospital,” Tytus explains.

“Oh, hello there, Kaja,” Babcia says, a weak smile creasing her cheeks as her hazy gaze falls onto the cat. That smiles strengthens when she sees me. “And Rozalia, too. What did I do to deserve such a bountiful visit?”

“You fainted,” I tell her. Reaching down, I take her wrinkly hand and squeeze.

“I’ll have to do it more often,” Babcia laughs, before a raspy cough quickly takes over.

“Don’t you dare,” I say, holding her as the fit passes.

“Yeah,” Tytus adds. “Another inch to the left, and you might have cracked that hard noggin’ of yours on the kitchen counter.”

“it would take more than a counter to crack this old skull of mine,” Babcia says. With a shaky hand, she softly strokes the side of Kaja’s face. “Believe me, others have tried. My dear old husband especially, and it never worked out too well for him.”

“That bastard is lucky he’s already dead,” I curse. My fingers curl back into fists.

“We all are,” Babcia jokes, only coughing a little this time. “… Though, I would have loved for you both to meet his killer.”

The words slip out of her like an old memory, carelessly shared for the first time. At first, Tytus and I are too shocked to respond.

Babcia has rarely ever spoken about her abusive ex-husband, other than to say he’s likely rotting in hell by now. She’s definitely never mentioned how he died.

“Someone killed the bastard?” Tytus asks, wickedly amused.

“Oh, yes. Very violently,” Babcia nods. Her glazed eyes dim as she draws deep into her past. “It was done by the most interesting young man I’d ever met… up until I met you two, of course. He had eyes like a wolf and no mercy. Even when I begged him to stop, I think he knew I didn’t actually want him to. He kept at it until Alan’s head was mush. My only regret is that I never learned his real name…”

Tytus and I both share a concerned glance.

Then, something occurs to me.

“It… it wasn’t Drago, was it?”

It’s hard to tell if Babcia laughs or if she’s just taken over by another coughing fit. Either way, I hold onto her hand until she’s done.

“My goodness, no. Dragomir is not the type. Far too thin for something like that. This man was a beast. Much like you, Tytus, my dear—only if you had been born twenty years earlier.”

“I wish I had been,” Tytus notes. “Then I could have killed Alan myself.”

“Yes, I know, dear,” Babcia nods, kneading her knuckles under Kaja's ear. “You and the wolf share a kindred spirit. As does Dragomir. And you too, Rozalia. You are all such vicious protectors. My fallen angels…”

Fallen angels.

Without warning, Babcia’s words send an invisible arrow piercing through my heart. I can’t help but reach for my chest as a flash of pain cuts through me.

Only one other person has ever called me a fallen angel.

Rian.

Those ocean blue eyes sparkled with mockery when he first said it, but his words never faltered.

He said he was lucky to have me…

But he doesn’t have me. No one does.

Right?

So why am I thinking about him at a time like this?

“The wolf?” Tytus mumbles, turning to me. “This guy sounds like mafia, do you think—"