Blood of My Monster: A Dark Mafia Romance (Monster Trilogy Book 1)

Blood drips all around me.

In the silence, the sound heightens to a terrifying crescendo.

Darkness expands for as far as my vision can see. Fog condenses and floats in a seamless motion, mixing with the blood and flowing beneath and above me.

A droplet of hot liquid falls on my cheek, then another follows, and another…

I cautiously lift my head, despite the claustrophobic sensation expanding in my chest.

There’s something wrong with this situation, but that doesn’t stop me from trying to gauge what’s going on.

Sure enough, in the midst of the smoky darkness, bodies hang from the sky, their eyes bulging, tongues grotesquely hanging out of their mouths, and their clothes soaked with blood.

I’d recognize each and every one of their faces, even if I were old and gray and on my deathbed.

My family.

Tears fill my eyes, and I jump up, desperately trying to reach out and free their corpses, but a strong gust of wind interrupts me.

“You’re a failure, Aleksandra!” The booming voice comes from overhead as if they’re all speaking at the same time.

“A failure.”

“Nothing but trouble.”

“You shouldn’t have been spared.”

“Why do you get to live and we don’t?”

They mix, mash, and turn into a puddle of terrifying shrieks. Their blood soaks my shirt and clings to my skin, my eyelids, and my mouth. Everywhere.

I swallow the metallic taste, nearly drowning in all the blood and yelling.

I put my hands to my ears and scream.

My eyes snap open and clash with an old ceiling. No bodies hang from there, and no blood soaks me.

My concentration is groggy, and my head pulses with pain, but I focus on my surroundings. I’m on a bed in a small room. An old fireplace stocked with wood gives the place a vintage, cozy vibe.

What am I doing here…?

I rack my brain for the last thing I did, but I still can’t put my finger on it.

We were on a mission and—

Damn. The mission!

I lunge forward and pain explodes through my upper shoulder. Holy shit.

Just when I think I’ll die from the sizzling burn, the door opens. I back up against the headboard, my senses on high alert, and reach for my calf knife. Only, I’m not wearing a boot, and…did my breasts just bounce with my movement?

I look down and…what the…? I’m dressed in a cotton nightgown with spaghetti straps and a deep V-neck that reveals half of my breasts. There’s no sign of my chest bandage.

Please tell me this is a continuation of my nightmare.

“You’re finally awake.”

I startle at the welcoming female sound and lift the blanket to cover myself. An old woman with a kind face and white hair gathered in a bun approaches me.

She’s holding a tray with thin, wrinkly hands on which some blue veins peek through.

My eyes track her every movement while simultaneously searching my surroundings for a weapon I can use to escape.

She seems oblivious to my hyperaware mode as she continues her serene approach. “My name is Nadia, and I’m the nurse who’s been taking care of you.”

A thick accent coats her words—something more rural and different from the city’s accents. She sounds like the villagers Papa and my uncles used to take us to visit during the summer.

Nadia stops by my bed, places her tray on the nightstand, and gives zero shits about my attempts to resist. Easily, she flings my good arm from beneath the sheet and hooks the blood pressure cuff to it. Then she shoves a thermometer under my armpit.

Her expression remains kind through the whole ordeal, like a patient mother who’s dealing with a petulant child. “You’re lucky the villagers led you to our house in time. My husband and I are a retired doctor and nurse, but that didn’t last too long once you showed up at our doorstep.”

“Sorry,” I whisper, feeling a sense of guilt at disturbing their peace.

Nadia merely ignores my lame attempt at an apology and removes the cuff. “Normal blood pressure, good. And instead of being sorry, focus on getting better. Scars don’t look so good on young ladies.” She fetches the thermometer from my armpit and stares at it with efficient calm. “You’re still a tad hotter than normal. I’ll inject you with another dose of antibiotics.”

“Uh, can we not do that? I’m sure it’ll be fine in a bit.”

She narrows her eyes. “When you reached our doorstep, you were dying. My husband and I didn’t go through all the trouble to save you so you’d have complications now. Besides, are you seriously afraid of a needle when you were shot by a gun?”

My shoulders hunch. It’s an irrational fear that I’ve been trying to overcome, but it’s simply not going away. And yes, I do prefer a gunshot wound over a needle.

While I’m thinking of what to tell her, Nadia has already prepared the injection.

“Wait, wait!” I slide back in the bed and wince when pain explodes in my upper shoulder. “Aren’t there any pills?”

“Injections are faster and more efficient.” She holds the needle that glistens with a transparent liquid high. “I’ll give you a painkiller after this.”

“I’m really fine. I don’t need both.” She touches my forearm and pulls. The motion isn’t even harsh, but I scream with pain.

“You were saying?” Her tone and face remain the same except for the raising of her brows.

The door bangs open, and the pain dulls to the background when I’m met with familiar icy blue eyes.

Captain Kirill.

He’s dressed in casual pants, his black army boots, and a heavy coat that’s covered with snow. He removes the hat, revealing the entirety of his face, and he’s wearing…glasses.

My heart thuds behind my rib cage as this unusual image of him sinks in.

He looks regal, all muscle and destructive energy tucked neatly behind the casualwear. The glasses give him the appearance of an intelligent accountant who might or might not be hiding some dangerous tendencies.

“Oh, you came back,” Nadia says after inspecting the newcomer. “Your wife is apparently scared of needles, so how about you help me keep her in place before she opens her stitches?”

He starts to walk inside, and I’m too stunned to talk or think, so I keep staring, dumbfounded.

“Did you buy what I asked for?” Nadia asks him.

Captain Kirill opens his coat and gives her a bag of medicine, then removes the piece of clothing and throws it on a chair opposite the fire.

He’s dressed in a black button-down and a sweater that fails to leash the intensity dripping off him.

“Good, good. I thought you were going to be killed by the storm.” Nadia nods. “Now, get over here.”

I can’t believe my ears or my eyes, because the captain actually follows her instructions and allows himself to be ordered around.

Something niggles at the back of my head, and I can’t figure out what, no matter how much I think about it.

As he approaches me, looking bigger than a god and just as deadly, the reason behind my frozen state rushes back to me.

Did Nadia just call me his…wife?

There must be some sort of misunderstanding, because what the fuck?

My thoughts whither and vanish as he sits beside me on the mattress and wraps his arm around my waist.

The heavy weight of his hand settles on my hip, large and imposing, and effectively steals my breath.

His fingers splay out on the fabric, and even though our skin is separated by the nightgown, he might as well be touching me naked. He’s never touched me this way, and the novelty of it throws me off.

“Capt…”

I trail off when my eyes clash with the warning in his harsh ones. The intensity behind them rivals the pain in my shoulder.

“It’s only a needle.” His voice carries like warmth in the harsh winter. Deep and firm, but not as authoritative as I’m used to. Jesus. Is this an imposter or something?

“That’s what I’ve been telling her,” Nadia supplies from beside me, but I’m too focused on the captain’s face to pay attention to her.

His free hand strokes my cheek so gently and lovingly, I think I’m going to melt. “You can do this, Solnyshko.”

No.

Nope.

I must be dreaming or else…or else…Captain Kirill just called me his sun. A term of endearment that’s only used between lovers.

My jaw is about to hit the ground when he strokes my chin, subtly closing my parted lips.

The motion is fast and straightforward, but he might as well have provoked a war in my chest. The place where he touched me tingles and heats, leaving me gasping due to something a lot different than pain.

A prick swerves my attention to my arm that Nadia has successfully gotten a needle into. The sight fills my throat with nausea.

“Look at me, Solnyshko.”

As if hypnotized, I turn my head in his direction. For some reason, his icy eyes aren’t so savage anymore, but they’re still dangerous. He’s successfully hidden his nature behind the black-framed glasses, but not enough to fool me.

“It’s going to be okay,” he says in that fake softness that wrenches a shiver out of me.

What…is this? How am I supposed to stare at the captain and not think of him as my captain?

The space between my legs warms and tingles. It’s uncomfortable enough that I want to push him away and go hide somewhere.

“We’re all done.” Nadia interrupts the moment, and I blink once as I break contact with his hypnotizing eyes.

Nadia hands over my painkillers and a glass of water. “These will dull the pain. If you’re tired, sleep. My husband will be here to see you shortly.”

“Thank you, Nadia, and not only for this, but also for taking us in when we had nowhere to go,” the captain says in that weird tone. He sounds like the most eloquent gentleman, who’s impossible to resist.

“At least one of you has manners,” she says without changing her expression.

“T-thank you,” I blurt.

“Excuse my wife.” The captain tightens his hold on my waist. “She’s not usually this way, but the gunshot has flipped our world upside down.”

“I understand.” Her gaze softens before she directs it at me. “You’re lucky to have such a devoted husband, young lady. Not many would carry another person all that distance during a snowstorm.”

My lips are parted again because they said those words. Again.

Wife. Husband.

What the hell is going on? Have I perhaps woken up in an alternate reality where the captain is my husband?

“Dinner will be ready in an hour,” Nadia announces, then leaves the room.

The moment the door closes, I feel the shift in energy and the intense scrutiny someone’s keeping on me.

I don’t dare look up at him as if I’ve done something wrong. The fact that he still has his arm around my waist doesn’t help, though.

He lifts my chin with an index finger and leans forward, so I have no choice but to be trapped in those punishing eyes.

My lips are a breath away from his, and I can’t help staring at his mouth. It’s clamped in a line, the lower lip fuller than the upper one, and his strong jaw is set.

If he inches closer, the tiny space that separates us will be gone, and I’ll get to taste those lips—

What the…

No.

“What are you doing, Captain?” I whisper so low, I wouldn’t be surprised if he can’t hear me, and for a moment, I think he doesn’t.

Or I wish he doesn’t.

Just then, his thumb and forefinger squeeze my chin until I wince.

“That’s what I’d like to ask, Lipovsky. What the fuck did you think you were doing back there? Did I or did I not tell you not to put yourself in danger?”

“I…had no other choice. He was smart enough not to have fallen for a stick or a rifle. It smelled like a trap, even to me.”

“This fucking—” He cuts himself off and breathes evenly. “You defied direct orders, and you’ll be punished for it.”

“Come on! I got us the guy…”

I trail off when he glares at me with his scrutinizing eyes. Jeez. It’s impossible to keep staring at him and not suffer an injury of some sort.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “And it’s not like I wanted to get shot on purpose. It hurts, you know.”

He releases a long breath, and I’m not sure if it’s in frustration or resignation, but considering that he releases my chin and waist, I’d go with the second.

The loss of his touch leaves me inexplicably empty as he stands up and walks to the window. His movements are light and inaudible, despite his massive build. At first glance, he’s no different than a giant cat lurking in the middle of the night, waiting for prey to pounce on.

For some reason, I feel like that prey.

When he opens the curtains, I’m blinded by a white fog.

I can’t see anything beyond the heavy snow that’s blazing outside.

In a moment, this small room feels like a haven against the exterior world.

My hurt shoulder is less tense, and the pain dulls to a throbbing ache. I grab the blanket and pull it up to my chest, my heart beating loudly.

Even my ears feel like they’re on fire as I stare at the rippling muscles of his back.

“Captain…”

“Call me Kirill. The old couple will find it weird that you address your supposed husband as Captain. They’re too old-fashioned and need clear labels.”

I try to speak, but the words get stuck in the back of my throat, so I breathe deeply first. “Did you… Why did you dress me as a woman?”

“We wouldn’t have been able to fool them if you were in your man look. You scream soldier, even now.” He glances at me, and I swallow. “If you prefer being a man, you’ll have to wait until we’re out of here.”

“You…aren’t going to ask why I did this?”

“It’s none of my business.”

“But it’s against the military rules.”

“Right. That.” He seems to be deep in thought. “I don’t give a fuck. People should be allowed to be whoever they want to be, so if you prefer being a man, be a man.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to be a woman, it’s that I can’t. I…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Aleksander.”

“It’s Aleksandra.” My face and neck heat as I say the words.

I never thought I would be introducing myself, and to Captain Kirill, no less.

Kirill.

That’s what he told me to call him. Just Kirill.

A small twitch lifts his lips. It’s not exactly a smile but something close. “I know.”

“You do?”

“You said that when you were almost unconscious. It’s Aleksandra, not Aleksander.”

“Oh.” I bite my lower lip, and his attention follows the motion, slowly raising my temperature.

I release my lip in a jerk and clear my throat. “I-is that when you found out I was a woman?”

“No.”

“Then…when did you?”

“When I first saw you being assaulted by your ex-teammates.”

“What?”

“What?” he repeats coolly with unbelievable calm.

“You…knew from the beginning?”

“Was I not supposed to?”

“No. And, seriously, can you stop talking as if this is a trivial matter?”

He turns around and faces me while crossing his arms. “I’m all ears.”

It’s kind of hard to look him in the eye for too long, let alone talk to his face, but I manage to control my abnormal reaction. “I…have to look like a man despite myself, so…uh, can you please keep it a secret?”

“As I said, it’s none of my business.”

A heavy weight lifts off my chest, but the relief is short-lived. I’m hit by all the times I was trying to toughen up, speak and act like a man.

The captain must’ve thought me laughable.

Still, I murmur, “Thank you.”

He lifts a shoulder as if there isn’t anything to be thankful for. But for me, there is. Plenty.

“When can we leave this place?” I ask.

“Not in the near future.” He points a thumb behind him. “There’s a snowstorm that will last for a few days. It’s dangerous to even go into town in this weather.”

“How about the base? Have you been able to get in touch?”

“Negative. There’s no reception due to the storm. Until we find an opportunity to leave, the couple outside needs to believe our husband and wife story. They don’t trust soldiers around here, and Nadia already asked me why we don’t have rings.”

“What did you tell her?”

“We were robbed, and then when we struggled and ran away, we were shot at. Thankfully, we got far enough to escape capture.”

“They must’ve picked up that we don’t have a rural accent. Did they ask you why we were so far out from the city?”

He raises a brow. “They did. I told them we were lovers of nature and were celebrating our second anniversary.”

I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

“That’s good acting.” He motions at my face. “Looking horrified when I gave you a pet name wasn’t.”

Shit.

“It’s just that… I’m not used to that.”

He walks toward me, his purposeful strides eating the distance in no time. When he stops in front of me, I cease breathing, utterly taken aback by how close he is.

Kirill lifts my chin with his forefinger and says in a low tone, “Then get used to it, Solnyshko.”