Chapter 120: Severe

But right now I would kneel before anyone.

Anything.

If it meant saving my innocent girl.

The girl who suffered her entire life.

Who paid for the sins of others.

Who was abandoned by the people who should have protected her most.

“My sweet Flame, wake up,” I whisper, lifting her into my arms.

I press my ear against her chest.

Desperate.

Please.

Please.

My eyes squeeze shut.

The flames tear at my skin.

The air disappears from my lungs.

My body begs me to stop.

But I can’t.

I hold Sereia tighter.

And for the first time in my life...

I pray.

Not to a specific god.

Not to any saint.

To whoever might be listening.

“I’ve never asked for anything. Never knelt. Never begged. But now... now I’m begging.”

My voice breaks.

The knot in my throat nearly chokes me.

“Please... don’t let her leave like this. She doesn’t deserve this.”

Tears mix with sweat and soot.

I never cry.

But I don’t care about humiliating myself for her.

“Take me instead. Burn me. Send me to hell. Just let her live. Let her have the beautiful future she dreamed of. Let her see amazing places. Eat wonderful food. Be happy. She never got the chance.”

I continue my prayer as I carry her downstairs.

The steps are burning.

So I lift her higher to keep the flames from touching her.

Let my skin burn instead.

“I’ll accept every scar. Every pain. Every curse you want to throw at me. Just don’t hurt her. I’m begging you. She doesn’t deserve any more suffering.”

The prayer ends.

But the fire keeps advancing.

A support beam snaps behind me and crashes down.

The entire house shudders.

We’re out of time.

I pull her limp body closer and press the wet cloth tighter over her face.

The path back to the window is blocked.

“Fuck!”

I run toward the rear of the house.

Kick open a door.

The kitchen appears.

The flames are everywhere.

But there—

A shattered glass door leading outside.

I don’t think.

I act.

Holding Sereia tightly, I lower her further into my arms to protect her and charge forward.

Glass explodes around us.

The remaining structure collapses as I burst through and crash outside.

My skin burns.

Glass shards are embedded in me.

My pants are on fire.

The flesh beneath is already blistering.

Burns that will leave scars.

But none of that matters.

Sereia is unharmed.

And the gunfire has stopped.

To extinguish the flames covering my body, I jump into the pool.

The freezing water smothers the fire.

When I surface, my men are rushing toward me.

Traitors lie dead across the grounds.

Blood everywhere.

Keeping Sereia above the water, I swim to the edge.

Exhausted, I carefully lay her on the ground.

I climb out and press trembling fingers against her neck.

Searching.

Praying.

Needing.

A weak pulse.

But a pulse.

I shut my eyes tightly and finally release the breath trapped inside my chest.

“She’s alive,” I whisper.

“Fuck, Flame... fuck.”

I lean down and kiss her.

Water drips from my hair onto her skin.

I press my forehead against hers.

Relief crashes through me.

I squeeze my eyes shut even harder and whisper to whoever answered my prayer.

“Thank you... thank you.”

“You need to get to a hospital,” Liam says from behind me.

I turn and see him several yards away.

At his feet is a red-haired woman nearly identical to Sereia.

Bound.

Helpless.

Svetlana.

The resemblance is uncanny.

But the poison in her eyes will never resemble the sweetness of my wife.

“Do I keep her alive?” Liam asks.

I shake my head immediately.

“Kill her now. She doesn’t deserve anyone begging or negotiating for her life.”

“No!” she screams.

My brother ignores her.

“Any preference?”

The roar of the burning house gives me an idea.

A dark one.

“She deserves the same fate she planned for my Flame. Tie her up and throw her into the fire. Let her burn. Let her feel her skin melting. Let her beauty be destroyed.”

I look directly into her eyes.

“They say burning to death is one of the most painful ways to die. I hope that pain stays with you until your final breath.”

“No! No! I’m begging you!”

Svetlana sobs.

Liam doesn’t hesitate.

He asks a soldier for rope.

Minutes later she’s bound and screaming for mercy.

Every plea fills me with satisfaction.

Because a woman capable of sacrificing her own child for beauty and power deserves to burn forever in hell.

Liam throws her over his shoulder and carries her to the burning house.

Then he tosses her through the same opening I escaped from.

Her screams become more horrifying by the second.

The fire has reached her.

I don’t have time to celebrate.

With difficulty, I stand and pull my wife against my chest.

I refuse every offer of help from my soldiers.

Right now I need to feel her heartbeat.

A helicopter circles overhead before landing on the road.

Around us lies nothing but slaughter.

Death.

Devastation.

Explosions erupt inside the house.

Soon the entire structure is consumed.

Nothing survives the flames.

I climb into the helicopter, soaked from head to toe, carrying Sereia in my arms.

One doctor immediately begins examining her while another approaches me.

“No.”

Both doctors look at me.

“Both of you focus on her.”

My voice is exhausted.

My body is destroyed.

But I’m relieved beyond words that she’s alive.

“I need to know she’s okay. That my baby is okay.”

“But sir—”

“I already told you, goddammit!”

I snarl and point my gun at the doctor’s head.

He swallows hard and obeys.

They examine Sereia as quickly as possible.

I never let go of her hand.

The flames didn’t touch her.

But I need to know whether the smoke caused any internal damage.

My skin burns like fire.

I know the burns are severe.

But that isn’t important.

Because I would burn a thousand times worse if necessary.

For her.

For our family.