Page 175 of Sinful Lord

“Don’t worry, angel,” he says, his voice heavy with pain. “It’s over.”

With a deep grunt, he lowers his fist and drags Krol over to the window. Snow whips against his bloody face. But he doesn’t care.

I get a whiff of his arctic scent as he marches past me. All I can do is turn my head and watch out of the corner of my eye as he holds his brother up to the shattered window.

“We could have been a real family,” Tytus grumbles, his voice filled with pain. “But you never really wanted that, did you? You just wanted power. You just wanted favor. Well, I’ll do you one last favor. It’s more than you deserve. But this time, I’ll make sure you’re dead. That way, you can join Dad. You can be his only son for as long as the rest of us live. How does that sound?”

Snow swirls around the two broken brothers as Tytus waits for a response. Krol can’t manage much. Blood spurts from his beaten lips as he gargles something unintelligible.

That’s enough for Tytus.

“Take the shot, Maksim.”

Straightening his arm, Tytus holds Krol out over the edge of the shattered window. A split-second later, Krol’s head is snapped sideways by a bullet.

Another quickly hits him in the neck. Then another slices through his jaw.

The bullets don’t stop coming until his head is severed from his body.

Tytus hardly reacts. In fact, he doesn’t even kick the skull away when it rolls up to his feet. Instead, he just throws Krol’s corpse onto the ground and takes a deep, heaving breath.

“Fucking finally.”

With that, he turns to me. Those silver-blue eyes cut through the white snow and crimson blood, as bright as ever.

I stare back at him, my chest heaving.

He tries to smile, but it doesn’t look like he has the strength.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he coughs, stumbling over to my chair.

“Tytus… you… you’re bleeding…”

I’m paralyzed with worry as he stumbles over to my chair.

“You can wash me up, angel,” he whispers. Bending to his knee, he presses a finger to his ear. “Get over here and help the others,” he mumbles. “They’ve been poisoned.”

He’s close enough that I can just make out Uncle Maksim’s voice shouting something over his earpiece.

But Tytus doesn’t respond. He just starts undoing my restraints.

“It’s alright, angel…” he slurs. “It’s all going to be alright.”

It’s clear as day that he’s in bad shape. My heart aches for him. But I can’t do anything about it until I’m free.

The second the restraints come off, though, I jump out of my chair, desperate to feel him again. But I’m not exactly in the best of shape either.

All the blood rushes from my head and I start to fall. But before I can hit the ground, Tytus catches me.

When I open my eyes, I see him staring down at me, a small smile painted on his red lips.

“Tytus,” I whisper, touching his arm. “You saved me…”

He sways on his knee, but somehow manages to hold me steady.

“Melina.” Taking a deep breath, Tytus focuses those blurring blue eyes. “I fucking love you.”

That’s all he has the strength to say. His energy drains. His heavy eyelids start falling again. His chin dips to his chest. But I don’t let him pass out. Not yet.