The Past - 13 Years Old

“Winter,” Mom calls from the other side of the store, “what do you think of

this one?”

Dropping the beanie I was looking at, I walk closer to Mom and stare at

the jacket she’s holding up. “It’s pink.”

Her lips curve into a warm smile. “You love pink.”

“Not anymore.” I move past her to the rack of jackets and glance over the

selection until I find a black one. “I like this one more.”

Mom’s eyes widen slightly. “Please tell me you’re not going to start

wearing only black now that you’re a teenager.”

I shrug as I remove the jacket from the rack. “Pink is too girlie. Black will

tell the other kids not to mess with me.”

Mom lets out a chuckle while shaking her head lightly. “Black it is then.”

We spend the next hour shopping for my winter wardrobe. I only choose

blacks, grays, and whites, avoiding any other color, which Mom’s not too

happy about.

Tomorrow I’ll leave for private school, and I want everything to be

perfect. I might only be thirteen, but even I know first impressions count a

lot. Being smaller than most girls my age makes me an easy target for bullies,

so I have to do everything I can to show the other girls attending the school

I’m not to be messed with.

While one of our guards takes the bags to the car, Mom wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Do you want to stop for lunch or head home?”

Thinking of my father and brother, I reply, “We can get pizza to take

home so Daddy and Sean can have some as well.”

“Good idea,” Mom agrees, steering me toward a Pizza Hut.

Mom chooses a vegetable supreme, while I select a Hawaiian for myself

and a mega meaty for Dad and Sean.

Once our order is ready, one of the guards, Patrick, carries the boxes. As

we leave the mall, I think about all the packing I have to do. Pushing my

luck, I glance up at Mom and ask, “Will you help me pack?”

Mom grins down at me. “Of course.”

Walking toward the car, our guards fan out around us. It’s something I’ve

gotten so used to. I hardly notice them.

“Down!” I hear Cillian shout, but before we’re able to move, gunfire

erupts around us.

Patrick drops the pizza to the ground and yanks his gun out. He reaches

for Mom’s arm, and as he begins to move in front of her, bullets spray over

us. Three hit Patrick, and my eyes widen as my mouth drops open in a

scream.

A piercing pain slices through my neck, and I hear Mom wail as she

throws her body toward mine. Mom grabs hold of me and yanks me down to

the ground.

My eyes dart in the direction the gunfire is coming from, and I watch as

Cillian takes down the men shooting at us until they're all dead. The sight

should horrify me, but I’m too shocked to react.

Cillian runs toward me, and dropping down to his knees, he breathes,

“Winter… Rose?”

Only then do I glance down to where Mom’s head is resting on my chest.

Blood spirals across her forehead from a hole just beneath her hairline.

“Mom,” I groan. A merciless ache blossoms in my chest, and it threatens

to strip me of my sanity. Even though I know she’s dead, I still struggle out

from under her, and grabbing hold of her shoulders, I begin to shake her.

“Mommy!” Panicked breaths explode over my lips as my body jerks.

“Mommy!” I cry, devastating hopelessness seeping into my bones. I begin to

scream as hysteria engulfs me.

She can’t be dead. Not my mom.

No.

Gasping for air, I can’t think clearly anymore.

Cillian grabs hold of my arm, trying to pull me away from Mom.

“No!” I scream at him, trying to worm myself free from his hold so I can

stay with Mom.

“We have to go, poppet. It’s not safe,” he snaps at me.

“No!” I scream again, refusing to leave Mom. I grip hold of her white

shirt, curling my fingers into the fabric as my gaze locks on the blood

staining her pale skin.

This isn’t real.

Then it sinks in like a lump of burning coal.

Mom’s dead.

Cries begin to tear through me as I drop my forehead to Mom’s chest.

Sobs wrack through me as my tears fall to her shirt.

Minutes ago, I was Rose Hemsleys precious little girl.

Minutes ago, she was smiling at me.

Minutes ago, I had a mom who loved me more than anything.

“Holy mother of saints,” Cillian suddenly hisses, and then he grabs hold

of me. I’m yanked into the air as he climbs to his feet, and holding me tightly,

he runs toward the car. My cries turn to whimpers as unbearable heartache

swamps me.

I watch as the distance between Mom and me keeps growing. A breeze

picks up, making some of her ginger hair blow over her face, sticking to the

blood.

‘Mommy,’ my heart wails. My innocence is ripped from me, and my

world is thrown into violent disarray.

Cillian bundles me into the passenger seat and straps on the seat belt

before he slams the door shut. I watch him run around the front of the car. He

climbs behind the steering wheel, and seconds later, tires squeal as we race

away from the gruesome sight.

“We can’t leave Mom,” I cry.

Something slams into the car, and we jerk forward. My cries grow louder

when Cillian curses, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.

Bullets hit my side of the car, and terrified, I scream.

“Get down, Winter!” Cillian shouts at me.

With trembling fingers, I unbuckle the seat belt and slip off the seat. More

bullets hit the car, and the windows shatter, raining glass down on me.

“Fucking bastards,” Cillian growls as he does his best to keep the car on

the road. Something slams into us again, making the vehicle jerk forward.

“Almost there,” Cillian grinds the words out as he takes a sharp corner,

making the tires screech as they struggle to stay on the road.

I glance up at Cillian, and the worry etched with deep lines on his face

makes grave fear shudder through me. I’ve never seen Cillian scared before.

He’s always been calm. He always looked at me with a lopsided grin. Being

my personal guard Cillian was always just there, walking a couple of steps

ahead of me. Now he’s the only thing standing between me and the monsters

who killed my mom.

Another wave of bullets sprays the car. Cillian lets out a string of curses

as he pushes his foot down on the peddle.

“Stay down, poppet,” he says, his breaths rushing over his lips.

“Cillian,” I whisper, too afraid to speak louder.

“Stay down,” he repeats, and then the car slams into something before it

comes to a skidding stop.

The noise of gunfire is so loud, it fills my ears until all that’s left is a

ringing noise.

Cillian grabs hold of his gun and opens the door. He rushes out of the car

and begins to shoot at the men attacking us.

Unable to stay down, I crawl from the foot space and over the console

onto the driver’s seat “Cillian,” I whisper again, and it makes his eyes dart to

me.

Instead of his usual lopsided grin, a dark grimace distorts his face as he

rushes back to me.

“You’re safe now.” Slipping his hands under my arms, he pulls me out of

the car, and then he begins to run with me. “I’ve got you, poppet. You’re

going to be okay.”

From over his shoulder, I take in the scenery that looks like a war zone.

“Cillian,” I whisper, terrified and heartbrokenly. Tears flood my eyes,

blurring my sight.

“Winter!” I hear Dad shout.

“She’s been shot,” Cillian yells. “Get me a first aid kit.”

It’s only then I become aware of the blood dampening my shirt.

My eyes begin to grow heavy as my body jerks with every step Cillian

runs. My tongue becomes heavy, and I’m unable to tell him I’ll be okay.

It feels as if my heartbeat is slowing down as if the sorrow engulfing me

is drowning it. I’m being sucked into a nightmare there’s no waking from.

My ears still ring, and I feel wet as if I’ve been bathed in blood. My

mother’s. My own.

Cillian lies me down, and then he begins to work on my neck. For a

moment, his eyes lock with mine. “I’ll fix you, poppet.”

Tears warm my icy skin, and the last thing I’m aware of before I pass out

is Dad letting out a heartbreaking cry while Cillian works to stop the blood

seeping from my neck.

The Past - 14 Years Old.

Since the attack, we’ve been stuck on a lake island in Finland. There’s no

more private school. No shopping trips. No interacting with other kids my

age.

Since Mom was killed, there’s only the island, the guards, and private

tutors.

It feels like I’m stuck in a bubble that can pop at any moment.

I’m sitting on the shore, throwing pebbles into the water while I stare at

the land in the distance. It harbors the nearest town to us. I’ve never been

there, though.

Letting out a miserable sigh, my thoughts turn to the past. It’s been a year

since Mom was killed. I got shot in the neck but was lucky. The bullet didn’t

hit anything vital.

I hear movement behind me, and without glancing over my shoulder, I

know it’s Cillian. A couple of seconds later, his shadow falls over me, and he

grumbles, “You know you shouldn’t be out here. Let’s head back.”

Another heavy sigh escapes me as I throw the last pebble into the water

before climbing to my feet.

When I turn around, Cillian tilts his head and lifts his hand to the side of my neck. Caringly, his palm covers the scar. “What can I do to make you

smile again?

He’s asked the question many times before, and once again, I can only

shrug.

It doesn’t feel like I’ll ever smile again. Not with Mom gone. She was the

heart of our family, and since her death, we’ve all become zombies, just

getting through every day as best we can.

Cillian pulls me into a hug and murmurs, “I wish I could make you feel

better, poppet.”

Since the shooting, Cillian’s become more than just my guard. He’s the

only friend I have now. Because he was there, he’s also the only one I can

talk to about my fears and sorrow.

Dad and Sean suffered their own losses, and I don’t want to saddle Dad

with my miserable feelings whenever he’s home from his business trips.

Sean’s four years younger than me, so I have to be a strong big sister for him.

The thought makes me pull back from Cillian so I can look up at him. He

looks like a scary version of Colin Farrell, tall, dark, and always dressed in a

suit.

But instead of being afraid of him, he’s the only person I feel safe with.

“There is something you can do for me,” I whisper, hoping he won’t say

no.

The creases around his eyes deepen as the corner of his mouth lifts

slightly. “Just name it, poppet.”

“Teach me how to shoot a gun and how to fight.”

A frown forms between Cillian’s blue eyes, but after a couple of seconds

of thinking about my request, he nods. “If that’s what you want.”

“I need to be able to protect Sean,” I give him my reason, and it makes

the lopsided smile I’ve grown fond of over the years, stretch over his face.

“You’re right,” he agrees as he slips his arm around my shoulders. We

begin to walk, then Cillian says, “First, I’ll teach you how to fight. We’ll leave learning how to shoot a gun for when you’re a little older.”

I know it won’t be of any use to argue with Cillian. He never says

anything he doesn’t mean, and there’s no changing his mind. With Cillian,

what you see, is what you get.

“Okay.” I feel a flicker of excitement for the first time since the shooting

and ask, “What will you show me first?”

“How to throw a decent punch.”

The corner of my mouth lifts slightly, and Cillian notices it. He tugs me

closer to his side, then whispers, “I’ve missed that smile.”

Glancing up at the man who saved my life, my smile grows. “Thank you

for always being here for me.”

For a moment, he gives me a sideways hug.

“There’s nowhere else I’d

rather be, poppet.” Cillian’s the only one who calls me poppet, and honestly,

in some ways, he’s the most important person in my life. I love my father and

brother, but Cillian’s the only one I can lean on.

It’s like he filled the empty space in my heart Mom left behind.

“Love you, Cillian,” the words fall easily over my lips.

“Ditto, poppet. Ditto.”

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....Past - 18 Years Old.

Zashchitnik.

I’ve been raised in a family of elite protectors. Defenders. Custodians. Guardians. We go by many names, but the official title for the job we do is Custodian.

Watching my older brother, Demitri, graduate from St. Monarch’s Academy as a custodian for Alexei Koslov fills my chest with pride. I use the term graduate loosely. The bidding night is kept secret until twenty-four hours before the ceremony takes place.

The Koslov family placed the highest bid for Demitri, which will serve as my brother’s first payment for his services. It’s the only time we don’t have a choice. We have to be paired with the highest bidder. Not that it’s a problem. Alexei was determined to have Demitri as his custodian, and he paid five million euros to ensure he got him.

Glancing at Alexei’s younger brother, Carson, I mutter, “You better bid double that for me.”

Carson lets out a chuckle. “If you’re better than Demitri, then I will.”

That will happen in five years. We can only attend St. Monarch’s once we turn twenty-one.

Demitri and Alexei walk to where we’re sitting, and it makes us rise to our feet. I envelop my brother in a hug and murmur, “I’m proud of you.”

Demitri has ranked as the best custodian, setting new records in fighting and weaponry. It’s my goal to beat them. My brother pats my back, and

pulling away, his eyes meet mine. “This weekend, we celebrate.”

It will be my last weekend with Demitri as he and Alexei are leaving for New York on Monday. There’s a sad twinge that mixes with the pride I feel for him, but I shove it aside, knowing it has to be done. We’re adults now, which means our lives will take us down different paths.

I shake Alexei’s hand to congratulate him, and then we leave St. Monarch’s. As we reach the armored jeep and Alexei walks to the driver’s side, I ask, “Why doesn’t Demitri drive?”

My brother opens the passenger door, then explains, “I need my hands free, so I can shoot anyone who threatens Alexei.”

“Oh.” Nodding, I climb into the back.

Alexei starts the car, then adds, “You’ll learn everything when you start at the academy.”

I wish I was twenty-one already. I can’t wait to become as good or better than my brother.

Alexei drives us to a gentlemen’s club in Geneva. When we walk into the building, my eyes dart around, drinking in the luxurious interior. Dark wooden furniture is complemented with chrome furnishings. The smell of cigar smoke hangs thick in the air, sweet and robust.

Uncle Michail and Mr. Koslov took Demitri and Alexei to their first gentlemen’s club when they turned eighteen. It’s a long standing family tradition.

Until yesterday, I’ve lived a secluded life at my family’s compound situated in Russia. I’ve learned everything there was to learn about all the fighting styles, and handling different weapons. I also had to become well acquainted with other countries' diverse cultures, especially America,Switzerland, England, and some parts of Africa. I had to learn to speak without a Russian accent as well. It kept me busy,but now I’m ready for more. I hunger for adventure and creating a name for myself as the best custodian.

My gaze goes to Carson. We’ve exchanged text messages, but living in different countries, we haven’t met in person until yesterday. Friends are hard to come by in our world, but like Demitri and Alexei got along right from the start, Carson and I immediately clicked.

Carson’s eyes meet mine, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Hopefully, that. will be us in five years,” he mutters as he gestures at our brothers.

“It better be,” I chuckle right before we take a seat at a table.

Alexei places an order for a bottle of vodka with four shot glasses, then he grins at Carson. “Today, I’ll make a man of you.”

Carson lets out a disgruntled sound through his nose. “I’m already aman.”

A server places a bottle of Stoli down in the middle of the table. While Alexei pours us each a glass, he chuckles, “You’re not a man until you’ve gotten drunk and made a woman ******.” He places a drink in front of Carson. “Until then, you’re a kid.”

Demitri hands me a shot glass, then asks, “Are you ready to become aman?”

I let out a soft chuckle. “Stupid question.”

My first time having sex, and every time after, was with Irina, one of the maids working at the compound. She’s taught me everything I know about pleasing a woman.

“Na zdoróvʹje,” we toast as we lift the drinks to our mouths. The vodka stings my throat as I swallow it down.

Alexei’s phone beeps, and after he checks the message, he mutters,

“Everything is set for New York.”

“The Ruin?” I ask. It’s what the hub for illegal activity in Desolation, New York, is called. Once Carson and I are done with St. Monarch’s, it will probably be our first destination as well.

Alexei nods as he fills our glasses again. “We have a meeting there.”

“Your first contract?” Carson asks as he picks up his drink. I down mine before settling my eyes on Alexei as he answers, “Yes.”

When he doesn’t say anything else, my gaze flicks to Demitri, who. shakes his head at me so I won’t ask more questions regarding their work.

“Drink up,” Alexei grumbles.

After the third shot, I start to feel hot under the collar, and by the fifth, my mind starts to grow cloudy.

“You need to practice shooting every second you can,” Alexei says to Carson, who just nods in response.

“ And you,” Demitri says as he locks eyes with me, “you better train every day. Don’t embarrass me when you start at St. Monarch’s.”

“Of course,” I mutter as I bring the tumbler to my lips again.

Alexei gestures around the table with his drink. “Don’t trust anyone but the men seated at this table"

Both Carson and I nod.

Once we’ve finished the bottle of vodka, Demitri gets up, which has the rest of us rising to our feet. “Now for the test.”

“Test?” I ask, doing my best to not stagger like a drunken fool as we walk deeper into the club.

Demitri and Alexei don’t explain what the test entails, and it has Carson and I exchanging a worried look.

They better not expect us to shoot someone. I won’t be able to aim straight with all the liquor flooding my veins. We’re led down a hallway, the carpet a deep burgundy beneath our feet.

Alexei drags Carson into a room, and I follow Demitri into another room.

A woman stands up from where she was sitting on a bed. Her eyes glide hungrily over me, which makes one of my eyebrows rise.

“Is this the test?” I ask.

“This is Leoni. I picked her myself for you.”

Demitri’s eyes lock with mine. “You have to make her come. Don’t leave this room until you’re successful,”

Demitri orders, and then he walks out.

I watch my brother shut the door behind himself before I turn back to Leoni.

The smile is still around her lips. I haven’t seen many whores, if that’s what Leoni is. She doesn’t look like one, with her blonde hair, amber eyes, and delicate pale skin. I have no intention of failing. It will be an embarrassment I’ll never live off.

Determined, I close the distance between us. Leoni tilts her head back as Is Top a couple of inches from her. For a moment, our eyes lock, and then I mutter, “Take off your clothes.”

I watch as she undresses, and when she steps out of her panties, I grow hard at the sight of her ***** body.

“Lie back on the bed,” I order, which she immediately does.

Still dressed in my three-piece suit, I crawl over her body. When Leoni Reach for my belt, I shake my head. “Don’t move.”

Stilling beneath me, heat warms her eyes, and it makes the corner of my mouth lift.

Irina was right. Women love men who take charge.It doesn’t take me long to get Leoni ready for me, and after I’ve slipped on a condom, I take her hard and fast, which has her screaming her ****** for all to hear.

My own pleasure fades as quickly as it came, and after I’ve disposed of the condom, I fix my clothes before leaving Leoni ***** and breathless on the bed.

I walk back to the table where Demitri and Alexei are waiting. Not seeing Carson, the corner of my mouth lifts with a victorious feeling.I take my seat and picking up the shot in front of me, I down it before I lock eyes with my brother.

“Good,” he murmurs, pride shining from his eyes. “What did you learn?”

Shaking my head, I let out a chuckle. “It’s easy to satisfy a woman?”

“What else?” Demitri asks. When I shrug, he leans his elbows on the darkwood, his eyes locking with mine. “That’s the closest you will ever get to a woman. If you marry, it’s to strengthen your footing in The Ruin. There’s no place for love in our world. Your loyalty will always belong to the one you guard, which means he or she will own your heart, your soul, and your body.”

Carson sits down next to me and turning my gaze to him, I grumble, “I understand.”That person will be Carson Koslov. When my time comes, I’ll be loyal to him, and only him.

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The Present – Winter 21; Damien 23

“I don’t want you to go,” Sean says for the hundredth time as we step out of

the mansion. My gaze goes to where our father talks with Cillian and the rest

of the security team, who will escort me to the private airport.

Sean, my younger brother, has made his feelings abundantly clear. I wish

he would understand I’m doing this for him. He’ll turn eighteen in a year, and

then it’s expected of him to follow in our father’s footsteps. Sean will take

over our diamond smuggling business, and someone has to protect him. That

someone will be me because I won’t trust anyone else with Sean’s life.

When I turned sixteen, I learned the Hemsley clan owns Angola, Sierra

Leone, the DRC, Ivory Coast, and Zimbabwe. Africa’s diamonds belong to

us, which has placed a hefty target on our heads. It’s the reason our mother

was assassinated, and I took a bullet to my neck, which is why the family

business means so much to me. I’ve bled for it, and I won’t let anyone take it

away from us.

Turning my gaze back to Sean, I say, “It’s only for two years. Keep your

head low while I’m gone.”

I wish I could take him with me to St.Monarch’s Academy. It’s the only

place on this goddamn earth that’s neutral ground. I need the training. I have

to become the best for Sean. I just hate leaving him behind.

“Stay,” he begs, giving me a pleading look I usually can’t resist.

Taking a step forward, I lift my hands to his shoulders and lock eyes with him. “Listen to me, Sean. It’s only for two years. I need the training. While

I’m gone, you have to be extra careful. Don’t leave the grounds unless you

really have to. Always keep the guards with you and wear your bulletproof

vest. Once I’m back, I’ll make it up to you.”

Frustration tightens his features. “I don’t care about that. I don’t want you

to go. We shouldn’t split up. There’s a target on your head as well.”

I give my brother a comforting smile as I pull him into a hug. “I can take

care of myself, and Cillian will be with me. Don’t worry.”

Sean’s arms wrap around me, and he clings to me as if he has the power

to keep me here. “Please, don’t go,” he whispers, his voice tight with worry.

“Shh… I’ll be fine. Just take care of yourself. Okay?”

Sean nods, his grip on me tightening even more.

We both have our mother’s red hair and green eyes, but Sean got our

father’s large build and strong features. He went through a growth spurt last

year, shooting well past me. I, on the other hand, got our mother’s petite

frame. At twenty-one, I still look younger than Sean even though I’m four

years older than him.

When we pull apart, Sean shakes his head. “I have a bad feeling.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me. St. Monarch’s is safe. Stop worrying,

please.”

“It’s time,” Father says as he steps closer to us.

Nodding, I stand on my toes and press a farewell kiss to Sean’s cheek.

“Keep your head down and stay on the grounds,” I remind him again.

He nods, taking a step back, frustration still tightening his features.

Father pulls me into a hug, then whispers, “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know.” I rest my cheek against his chest. “I want to. For Sean. For

you.”

Father nods as he pulls back, his eyes drifting over my face. The corner of his mouth lifts. “Cillian will be stationed outside the academy. Don’t hesitate

to call him if anything happens.”

I step back, and with love filling my heart, I look at the two men in my

life. “You both worry too much. I can take care of myself.”

Father lets out a chuckle. “We should protect you, not the other way

around.”

“No,” I grin at them. “You run the business, and I’ll keep you safe. That’s

the end of the discussion.”

Father’s eyes lock with mine as they turn dark. “You’re the Blood

Princess of the Hemsley clan. Never forget that.”

“I won’t, Father,” I promise. Turning away from them, I climb into the

back of the armored jeep. My personal firearm, a Heckler and Koch, digs into

my lower back, but I ignore the slight discomfort. I also have a Glock

strapped to my ankle.

Before Cillian shuts the door, I look at my father and brother. “I love you

both with all my heart.”

Sean’s eyes begin to redden with unshed tears. “Love you too.”

Father’s mouth tips up with a proud smile. “Love you, my princess. Call

me the instant you’re safely at the academy.”

I nod as the door shuts, and then I focus on taking deep breaths because I

can’t cry. This was my decision. I’ve learned all there is to learn from my

private lessons with Cillian. Now I need to train with the best because they’re

the ones who will come after my family.

For two years, I’ll live with my enemies. I’ll watch. I’ll learn. I will show

them I’m a threat, and they will fear me.

For Sean. For Father. For our family business.

While we drive to the private airstrip where the jet is waiting to take me

to Switzerland, I stare down at my hands.

I feel Cillian’s gaze on me, and forcing a smile to my lips, I lift my head

to look at him. He gives me a lopsided grin, but it’s tainted by the worry he

feels about me leaving home. “Remember there are six syndicate groups. The

Custodians, consisting of the best protectors. You’ll train with them.”

I nod. “My goal is to break Demitiri Vetrov’s records.”

Demitri became a legend during his time at St. Monarch's. Now he

protects the top assassin in the world, Alexei Koslov, making them an

unbeatable team. I need to be better than them because right now, we don’t

stand a chance if they are hired to come after us. The thought makes my jaw

clench and my top lip curl up.

Cillian nods, then he continues, “It’s not going to be easy. It’s going to

hurt because none of the custodians in training will hold back just because

you’re a woman. They all have the same goal. To become the best.”

I swallow hard, fear slithering into my heart. I have no idea what to

expect.

Cillian’s eyes darken with worry as he says, “The other five syndicates

consist of Arms, Assassins, Smugglers, Cartels, and the Bravta. Only the

wealthiest crime families get to attend, so they can cultivate the specific set of

skills needed to run their family businesses. There’s only one rule – no

killing. So at least there’s that.”

I nod while memorizing everything he’s telling me. After all, knowledge

is power.

When the jeep stops right by the private jet, I wait for Cillian to open my

door. My eyes continuously scan over my surroundings as I step out of the

vehicle, and I tug at the bulletproof vest that’s tightly wrapped around my

chest. It matches my black pants and boots, which I like to think of as my

combat outfit. I want to dress up as much as the next girl, but that’s only for

special occasions.

My spine is stiff as I ascend the stairs with Cillian right behind me. Once

I’m safely inside the plane, I let out a breath of relief.

Six hours and I’ll enter the safety of St. Monarch’s. A lot can happen in

six hours, but at least I have Cillian with me.

Pulling the gun from behind my back, I set it down on the seat beside me.

I unstrap the vest and take a deep breath as I place it next to my firearm.

Cillian does the same where he’s seated across from me.

“Are you sure, poppet?” he asks.

Our eyes meet, and knowing it’s useless trying to hide my feelings from

him, I say, “Even though I’m terrified of the unknown, I have to do it "

“I’ll be right outside St. Monarch’s,” he assures me again. Our guards

aren’t allowed on the premises. I guess it’s to ensure everyone’s safety.

This time a genuine smile tugs at my mouth.

“Yeah, at least I’ll have you

there.”

As the jet begins to move, I lean my head back and stare out the window.

It’s just two years, Winter. You have to do this for your family.

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