The world slowed.
The fire crackled, spitting embers into the night, but the only thing I could hear was the wet crunch of bone against flesh.
Judas moved like something unholy and deadly demon. One second, the bastard was standing over me, and the next, he was on his knees, choking on his own blood.
I should have been afraid.
I wasn't.
I watched, my breath heavy, my heart pounding, as Judas tore into him like a wolf into its prey. His fists were relentless, strikes landing with a sickening thud, snapping bones, turning flesh to pulp. The man gurgled, his hands clawing at Judas's arms, but it was useless. There was no mercy in Judas tonight. He was bulkier than Judas and it made no sense how he could be overpowered by a man bruised and dishevelled. But that's what made Judas a Romanovski.
His eyes burned like molten steel, his face a mask of something darker than rage. This wasn't just a fight. It was an execution.
A scream ripped from the bastard's throat as Judas slammed his skull against the ground. Once. Twice. Blood splattered across my face, warm and thick, but I didn't flinch. I couldn't look away.
Judas was terrifying.
And yet, I had never felt safer.
The man whimpered, his breath ragged, his body twitching like a dying insect. "P-please…" he choked, blood bubbling at his lips.
Judas stilled. A beat of silence. Then-
Crack.
His boot came down on the man's face, the sound of a sickening pop of shattering cartilage and breaking teeth.
"Please?" Judas repeated darkly. He crouched, tilting his head as he grabbed the man's jaw, forcing him to look at him. His face was unrecognizable. "Did she beg you?" His grip tightened, nails digging into bloodied flesh. "Did she plead for her life?"
The man's mouth opened, but no sound came out. Judas leaned in, his lips curling into something cold. "No? Then neither will you."
His knife flashed.
I didn't look away.
I should have.
I should have been horrified.
But as I watched Judas carve into him, as the screams turned to wet gurgles, I felt nothing.
Nothing but satisfaction.
By the time Judas stood, his hands drenched in crimson, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths, the man was nothing but a ruin of flesh and blood.
The fire behind him roared higher, casting him in shadow, making him look less like a man and more like something out of a nightmare.
Or a saviour.
For me, he was both.
Judas turned, his eyes locking onto mine. The rage was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but something else flickered in them. Something unreadable.
He reached for me, his bloodied fingers brushing against my cheek, gentle, almost hesitant as if he didn't want to touch me with his bloodied hands, or if he didn't want me to look at this version of him. "Are you hurt, ptichka?"
I swallowed, my throat tight. Ptichka.
"No."
A slow smile curved his lips.
"Good," he murmured. Then, softer, more dangerous, "Let's go home."
Blood smelled like rust. Like something old, something meant to be buried.
But it clung to him, my nightmare, my predator, staining his skin, his clothes, the very air around him. And yet, when his fingers found my wrist, they were warm. Solid. The only real thing in this nightmare.
"You're shaking," he murmured.
I was. Not from fear.
From something else entirely.
Judas pulled me up, his grip firm. Now I could see him as flames fell upon his face. His cheekbones were like blades, his lips a sinful curve of danger. The blood streaking his jaw only made him look more lethal.
And yet, I wanted him.
His hand slid to my waist, just a brush of fingertips, but it burned.
"Judas-"
"Shh," he rasped, tilting his head. His pale eyes were darker-searched mine, as if trying to unravel the thoughts tangling in my mind. "I've got you."
God help me, I wanted to be caught.
His scent-blood, smoke, something dark and masculine-curled around me, intoxicating me into believing he was my singularity. My pulse betrayed me, hammering against my ribs as his lips hovered inches from mine.
His thumb traced my jaw. Hesitant. Heat licked down my spine.
I wanted him to.
He exhaled sharply, his breath uneven as he pulled me into his chest. Strong arms wrapped around me. And then-I heard it.
The steady, thunderous rhythm beneath my cheek. His heart. Beating. Loud. Fierce. Alive.
For all his brutality, for all the blood on his hands, he was still human.
And maybe that was the most dangerous thing of all.
I wanted to tell him. That he wasn't just a storm that wrecked everything in his path. That he wasn't just destruction wrapped in skin. That he meant something to me-something terrifying, something undeniable.
Maybe I was his ruin. Maybe he was mine.
Maybe we were never meant to be anything but chaos colliding.
My heart swelled, my lips parted, words trembling on the tip of my tongue.
"Judas, I-"
But before I could say anything else-
A slow clap broke the silence.
Judas stilled against me as a low growl rumbled in his chest.
I lifted my head.
And my blood ran cold.
Lucius.
He stood there, half in shadow, leaning lazily against the bark of the tree. The smirk on his sent chills down my spine. Bloodied. Tattered clothes but that smirk… that infuriating and taunting smirk.
Behind him, his guards moved, spreading out like wolves scenting blood, circling us. Too many of them.
My stomach clenched.
Judas shifted in front of me, shielding me as his hand curled into a fist at his side. But he didn't speak. Didn't move.
Lucius tilted his head, his eyes dragging over us, lingering-too long-on me.
My pulse pounded. Loud. Too loud I was afraid that everyone could hear it. We were trapped.
"Touching," Lucius drawled, pushing off the tree as his dark eyes flicked between us. And that's when I noticed a gun in his hand. "A moment straight out of a fucking tragic love story." He gestured lazily to the guards behind us as they pointed their guns at us in unison. "Unfortunately, I'm not a fan of tragedies."
Judas' body tensed. I felt it beneath my fingers. The slow coil of violence thrumming under his skin.
Lucius smiled like he knew it. Like he enjoyed it.
"So here's how this plays out," he continued, pacing a slow circle around us. "You come with me, Romanovski. Or…" His gaze slid to me. "She dies."
Judas' breath stilled. His fingers flexed against my waist. "Pull the trigger, and I'll make sure they spend weeks finding all your pieces."
Lucius chuckled. "My pieces? You seem to misunderstand something here, Romanovski. I have the gun here."
Judas's finger slowly let go of my waist and I realised what he was up to. He motioned me to get behind the tree and I took a slow step back.
Judas stepped forward and the guns followed him. "That's the difference between us, Morozov. You need a gun to protect yourself," I slowly stepped back until I was almost against the tree and Judas cracked his knuckles. "But I don't need one to put you in the ground."
Before Lucius could respond, Judas moved.
Fast.
One second, he was beside me. The next, his elbow cracked against the jaw of the nearest guard. The sickening crunch of bone snapped through the night.
Chaos erupted.
I ducked as a bullet whizzed past my ear. Judas twisted, grabbing another guard by the throat and slamming him into the ground. A knife flashed. Judas caught it mid-air, flipping it in his grip before driving it straight into another man's eye.
Screams. The metallic scent of blood.
I moved behind the tree when I felt something cold pressing against my temple.
"Drop it!" a voice rasped.
My breath hitched. My father's voice.
I froze.
Judas turned slowly looking where the voice roared from.
A gunshot rang out. One of Lucius's men dropped with a hole between his eyes.
I barely had time to register it before another shot echoed. A second guard fell, clutching his thigh, screaming.
The remaining guards hesitated-fatal mistake. Shadows moved between the trees. More gunfire. Kyle stepped forward, gun raised and his face a mask of cold fury. "Drop your weapons." His voice was quiet, but it cut through the chaos like steel.
One by one, the guards hesitated, eyes darting to their fallen men. Then, they obeyed. Guns hit the dirt, hands rising in surrender. Lucius cursed under his breath as Kyle kicked his legs out from under him, forcing him onto his knees.
And in the centre of it all-Judas stood, his own gun raised.
Pointed at my father's chest.
I met his gaze, my heart hammering.
He was unreadable.
"Judas," I whispered.
He didn't lower his gun.
Lucius smirked. "Checkmate."
Kyle kicked him as he fell on his knees all while looking at the chaos.
But Judas only looked straight at the gun pointed at my temple.
"You think so?"
And then-
He pulled the trigger.