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As he steps away, Orien’s hand finds the small of my back. “Are you okay?”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

He steps around to my front. “That was...”

“Stupid,” I finish for him. “Reckless. Probably the worst tactical decision I’ve ever made.”

“Next time you volunteer to take the lead, you’re also taking the Kevlar vest.”

Pride fills me that he doesn’t question my right to be in the lead sometimes, so long as I’m better protected. “Deal⁠—”

A gunshot cracks through the air, and my heart leaps into my throat as I shove Orien out of the way, but I’m too slow. I realize it as I slam him into the wall, trying to cover him with my own body.

His hands clutch at my body, running over it. “Are you hit?”

“No.” I do my own assessment of him. “What about you?”

“No.”

Confusion fills me, followed by horror as I turn toward where I last saw Alexei.

He kneels on one knee, clutching his shoulder where blood seeps out of a hole in his jacket.

For a suspended beat, no one moves.

Then Mikhail steps from the branch in the corridor, weapon extended. “Weak. You were always too soft.”

My hold tightens on the weapon still in my hand as my arm comes up at the same time Orien’s does, mirror images of each other as we pull our triggers.

The recoil kicks up my arm, the sound of it deafening in the confined space. My ears ring with the dual concussive cracks as Mikhail stumbles back, catching himself on the corridor wall, shock flashing in the half-second before his legs give out.

He sprawls onto the floor and lies still, a dark stain spreading across the front of his shirt from twin holes in his chest.

The security guards come rushing back into view, and shouts fill the air. Instantly, Orien and I raise our arms, guns held loose in our grips.

“Weapon’s down!” Alexei’s voice breaks through the chaos, telling them to let us pass.

The moment they move aside, I rush to Alexei, who’s now back on his feet and braced on the wall, blood soaking dark through the fabric at his shoulder. His complexion is pale beneath his tan, while pain twists his features.

I pass my borrowed gun back to Orien before I got to my brother. “Let me see.”

I peel back his jacket and shirt to reveal the damage.

“It’s clean,” I tell him. “Through and through. You need a doctor, but it’s not going to kill you.”

A ghost of a smile touches his mouth. “Always practical.”

“You taught me to be.”

The faint smile fades. “You didn’t hesitate.”

“Consider it my parting gift to you,” I say.

Orien eyes the security guards, who stare at us with suspicion. “Time to go, trouble.”

I reach out to squeeze my brother’s uninjured shoulder and echo the words Orien said to me when I left him, not even three hours ago. “Stay alive.”

Then, I let my mate take me from the only place I’ve ever called home, but it’s not where I belong anymore.