Page 33 of Twisted Vows

I nodded, my grip tightening on the tablet. “They won’t know what hit them.”

A maniacal smile tugged at Malachi’s lips. “That’s the idea.”

We separated, each of us assuming command of our respective teams. The air thrummed with tension as we geared up, checking weapons and running final systems checks.

Malachi’s voice crackled over the comms, his tone steely. “All teams, report in.”

One by one, the confirmations came, each team leader reporting their readiness. A hush fell over the staging area, the calm before the storm.

“Execute on my mark,” Malachi’s spoke quietly.

Engines roared to life as the armored vehicles rolled out, their tires crunching against the pavement. I took my position in the lead vehicle, my team arrayed around me.

The countdown began, each second stretching into an eternity as we hurtled toward our target. I held tightly to my weapon, taking comfort in the sleek steel.

“Mark,” Malachi’s voice rang out, and all hell broke loose.

The vehicles peeled off in different directions, converging on the target from multiple angles. My team hit the east entrance hard, breaching charges blasting through the reinforced door in a thunderous explosion.

Chapter Fifteen – Nika

The cold metal cuffs bit into my wrists as I strained against them, muscles aching from hours of fruitless struggling. The dank cell reeked of mildew, its crumbling walls a silent witness to countless horrors. I refused to surrender, so my mind was racing with possibilities for escape.

Twisting my hands, I probed the cuffs for any give or weakness to exploit. The skin on my wrists grew raw and bloody, but I persisted, driven by a fierce determination to break free from this nightmare. Each tiny shift or minuscule loosening of the restraints fueled my hope.

Sweat beaded on my brow as I contorted my body, using every ounce of flexibility to manipulate the cuffs. My breath came in ragged gasps, the exertion taking its toll, but I pushed on, driven by the thought of Malachi and Rurik, of the life I yearned to reclaim—and the unsettling knowledge that Terzien would eventually return for the next round of interrogation.

Suddenly, a faint click echoed through the cell, and one cuff slipped free from my raw, bloodied wrist. I hastily worked on the remaining restraint, my fingers trembling with urgency. Another click, and I was free, stumbling to my feet, my legs wobbling from disuse. I steadied myself against the damp wall, straining to hear any signs of movement beyond the cell’s confines.

Silence reigned, save for the pounding of my heart in my ears. I crept toward the door, pressing my ear against the cool metal to listen intently for any indication of what awaited me on the other side.

A muffled shout, followed by the unmistakable staccato of gunfire, shattered the stillness. My heart leapt into my throat as I recognized the chaos of battle unfolding beyond these walls. The gunfire had to be from Malachi and Rurik, who had come for me.

I backed away from the door, my mind racing. Should I attempt to flee, risking exposure and potential harm, or wait for them to find me? The decision weighed heavily, each option fraught with peril.

Another burst of gunfire, closer this time, echoed through the corridors, spurring me into action. I couldn’t sit idly by, waiting to be rescued like a damsel in distress. I had to take control of my fate and fight for my freedom alongside the men I loved.

Steeling my resolve, I scanned the cell for anything that could serve as a weapon. My gaze fell upon a rusted pipe protruding from the wall, and I wrenched it free with a lot of effort and another layer of my skin sacrificed for the cause. When it was loose, I gripped it tightly in my trembling hands.

With a deep breath, I approached the door, pressing my ear against it once more. The sounds of combat grew louder, as if the battle raged just beyond this barrier. Summoning every ounce of courage, I stepped back and swung the pipe with all my might, striking the door’s hinges. The impact reverberated through my arms, but the door held.

I struck again and again, each blow fueled by desperation and the burning desire to reunite with Malachi and Rurik. The hinges groaned in protest, slowly yielding to my relentless assault.

With a final, thunderous blow, the door burst open, and I stumbled into the dimly lit corridor. The sounds of battle assaulted my senses as gunshots and shouts echoed from every direction. My heart thundered as I gripped the rusted pipe, knuckles white with determination, but my grip was weak after having hammered on the hinges.

Smoke tainted the air, stinging my eyes, and burning my lungs with each ragged breath. I squinted, trying to make sense of the chaos unfolding around me. The muzzle flashes of automatic weapons added a strange, distorted light to the shadowed area.

A figure emerged from the haze, his broad shoulders and confident stride instantly recognizable. Malachi. Relief washed over me, as I realized the peril he faced.

He whirled, his gaze locking onto me, a mixture of surprise and elation flickering across his rugged features. Before he could speak, a burst of gunfire erupted from a side corridor, forcing him to take cover behind a crumbling pillar.

I pressed myself against the wall as bullets ricocheted off the concrete, sending shards of debris raining down upon us. Malachi returned fire, his movements precise and lethal, each squeeze of the trigger a calculated strike.

Through the haze, I caught a glimpse of another figure weaving through the chaos with fluid precision. Rurik. He moved like a dancer, his weapon an extension of his body as he dispatched enemies with ruthless efficiency.

They had come for me, risking everything to ensure my safe return. A surge of gratitude and affection welled within me, fueling my determination to fight by their side.

Gripping the pipe tightly, I darted forward, ducking and weaving through the crossfire. A bullet whizzed past, its searing heat brushing my cheek as I pressed onward.

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