I snarl and slam my elbow into his ribs. He grunts but doesn't let go, yanking me sideways—harder. Fire streaks across my scalp.
"Careful," Not-Konstantin warns. "You hurt her, Darius will take your head off."
Piotr mutters something in Slavic. Probably a curse or a very creative insult. I don't care.
I can't win this by force, so I go still. Pretend.
"All right, all right. You win," I sigh, sagging just enough to sell it.
Piotr eyes me like he doesn't buy it. But his grip loosens.
Not-Konstantin moves in from the side.
Too close. No room to run. The lake is behind me, down a short drop. Not ideal.
"It's going to be all right," Not-Konstantin says, lifting his turtleneck over his nose as he reaches into his pocket.
I freeze.
No.
I know that smell. Wildbane powder.
He flicks his fingers, releasing a cloud of sharp, bitter dust.
I throw my hand over my face. Too late. The dizziness hits like a wave. Limbs heavy. Vision swimming.
I stumble back. My heel catches a root, and I fall.
Not-Konstantin lunges and tries to catch me, but his fingers slip off my wrist.
Cold crashes over me.
The last thing I hear is Piotr yelling something in Slavic before the lake swallows me whole.
And then—darkness.
Kayden
"Is it time for another Big Brother therapy walk in the woods?" I ask, ducking under a dripping branch. "If so, maybe we postpone it for a night that doesn't feel like the sky's having a breakdown."
"Rain or no rain, it won't change what I'm about to say," Asher replies, calm as ever. Infuriatingly so. "Or are you afraid to get wet?"
I scoff. Snap off a branch as we walk, twirl it between my fingers just to keep them busy. "Lay it on me, Yoda."
I'd be more into the midnight stroll if I thought it was leading to a hunt. But with my monk of a brother, it's always moral lectures and zero bloodshed.
"I know the attacks in the nearby towns weren't from wild animals, Kayden."
He says it like a fact. Because it is.
"Oops." I lift a hand to my mouth, mock-gasping. "Busted."
"We talked about this."
"We did. And I agreed to stay away fromthistown," I remind him.
He shoots me a side glance—the classic Asher disapproval look.
