Page 122 of The Last Hope

A man loomed over them, a knife inches from my eldest son’s face. The only thing holding him back was a bloodied hand gripping the blade’s edge.

Sienna’s hand.

Sienna—terrified, crying—pushing back a man twice her size.

A gunshot exploded. The man crumpled, collapsing onto Sienna and the children. Before I could react, Sasha vaulted over the mattresses, reaching them first. I followed, heart hammering.

“Mikhail !” I shouted as Sasha hauled the corpse away, freeing the children and Sienna.

“Sienna ? Sienna, look at me. Come on,moya angel, focus on my voice,” he said, trying to coax her out of her daze. She was trembling, her injured hand clutched against her chest. I scanned the boys, checking for injuries. They were shaking, crying, but they were alive. Unharmed.

Thank God.

“I’m fine,” Sienna murmured, trying to sit up, clutching her wounded hand, but she couldn’t even lift herself.

“Boys ! Sienna !”

Selina’s voice burst into the room, and she flew to their side. I clenched my jaw to avoid cursing aloud.

She walked into the fucking room as if it were a stroll through the garden. We didn’t even know if there were more intruders.

She dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around the boys, trying to soothe them as they sobbed harder at the sight of their mother.

“Oh, Sienna…” Selina whispered, gently taking her sister’s hand, now slick with blood.

Footsteps thundered in the hallway. Sasha and I were instantly on our feet, guns raised toward the door.

“Elif ! Wait !”

Grigori’s voice rang out, and we lowered our weapons just as Elif stormed in, barefoot in a nightgown, her eyes shimmering with tears, her face pale and my fury burned hotter.

“Boys !” she cried, gathering them into her arms as Grigori and Roman charged in behind her, armed and breathless.

“Sienna, you need stitches,” Selina said, examining the wound, her lips trembling.

“I’m fine,” Sienna repeated, but her voice was fainter now. Then, her face drained of color.

“Sienna ?” Selina cupped her cheek as her sister’s eyes began to flutter closed.

“Sienna ?!” Sasha’s voice cracked with panic as he knelt beside her, cradling her face in his hands just as she slumped into him, unconscious.

“Sienna !” Selina and Sasha shouted at once as I knelt beside them, checking her pulse.

“What’s happening ? Is she losing too much blood ? Is it her insulin ?” Sasha demanded, pulling her limp body against him.

Selina lifted an eyelid, checking her sister’s pupils with the practiced calm of someone trained. Then her hand froze at the back of Sienna’s head.

She pulled her fingers away—soaked in blood.

Sasha tilted Sienna forward, and I saw him freeze at the spreading stain on his shirt.

“He strangled her. Slammed her head against the wall multiple times,” Mikhail said suddenly, stepping forward, eyes bright with tears. “I tried to stop him. I took the knife auntie dropped and… I stabbed him in the thigh,” he added, twisting his hands nervously.

I pulled him into my arms, holding his trembling frame close, “you saved her life, son. I’m proud of you,” I whispered, rubbing his back.

Selina choked on a sob, “she needs to go to the hospital. She might have a concussion,” she said firmly.

Sasha didn’t hesitate. He scooped Sienna into his arms and ran from the room. But Selina hesitated, looking between the boys and the door.

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