Page 191 of Wicked Savage

My chest caves in on itself as a sob tears through me.

“I hate them,” I choke out, my words raw with pain.

Konstantin’s expression darkens, his jaw tightening. “I have your father. Believe me, he’ll pay for this. I’ll make sure of it before I end his miserable life.”

It should bring me some relief. Some satisfaction. But it doesn’t. Because no matter what he does to my father, nothing will change the fact that I’ve lost my brother.

That he’s never coming back.

CHAPTER53

DINARA

The sky weeps with us.

A cold drizzle falls over the cemetery, soaking into the fresh mound of earth that will soon swallow my little brother whole.

My fingers tremble as I clutch the white roses in my hand, their petals soft, delicate. Too much like him. Too much like the boy who never got to grow up.

I take a slow, shuddering breath, but it doesn’t stop the anguish caving into my chest.

It’s been two days since Gregory died right in front of me. Since his blood stained my hands. Since his small body went still. Two days, and it still doesn’t feel real.

It never will.

Cillian stands beside me, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist, grounding me, keeping me upright when all I want to do is collapse. His warmth is the only thing preventing the cold from consuming me entirely. But even that isn’t enough to numb the agony tearing me apart.

I step forward, my boots sinking slightly into the damp grass. The coffin is there—polished black wood, lined with silver. Too small.

It shouldn't be this small. This isn’t right. None of this is right.

With a shaking hand, I toss the flowers onto his coffin, watching them land softly against the surface. The finality of it crushes me, stealing what little breath I have left. My body trembles violently as I force out the words I should never have to say.

“I love you,” I whisper, my voice shattering like glass. “I'm so sorry I couldn't save you.”

Just like I couldn’t save our mother…

Beside me, Tatiana chokes on a sob, her entire body convulsing as she falls to her knees, fingers clawing at the dirt as if she can pull him back from the grave.

“No, no, no,” she wails, her grief raw and piercing. “I want him back. Please, just bring him back!”

Her screams rip through me, twisting the knife of my own pain deeper into my soul.

Konstantin crouches beside her, his hand on her back, whispering something I can’t hear over the sound of my own heartbeat, the roar of my grief. He’s trying to comfort her, but nothing will help. Nothing will make this better.

Nothing except vengeance.

I lower my gaze toward Konstantin, his expression grim.

“I want to watch him die.” My words are hollow, stripped of emotion except for the deep, burning rage simmering beneath my grief. “I need to see it. I need to see him suffer.”

Konstantin’s lips curl into something that isn’t quite a smile. It’s crueler, darker—satisfaction and promise twisted into one. He kisses the top of Tatiana’s head and rises to his feet, stepping closer.

“You will, dorogaya. I’ll make sure of it.”

A sharp gust of wind cuts through the cemetery, rustling the trees, as if the universe itself is bearing witness to his vow.

Gregory will never breathe again.

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