“Fuck, I love you, baby,” he whispered, closing his eyes and biting his lip, getting a kick out of my helplessness. “Your cunt’s so fucking tight… so fucking mine.”
He stilled, neck straining as he came, and he flopped on top of me. I lay disconnected and disorientated while Alik moved about the room as though nothing had happened, but I felt everything when he crawled over my battered body and slid into me once more.
It felt like the punishment never ended, and when Alik rolled to my side, spent, wrapping me in his arms, I let a tear fall, the salty drop stinging my open wounds, until I couldn’t hold on anymore and I slipped into darkness.
A slap to my face woke me. My head pounded practically blinding me and my body ached so badly that I immediately vomited to the side of the bed. I tried to move onto my back, to open my heavy eyes, but my lids wouldn’t fully function, only tiny slits of the room coming into view. I tried to move my legs but they wouldn’t work. I was trying to focus, struggling to remember what had happened, when suddenly, I was flipped over onto my front, my body screaming out at the action.
Alik hovered above me. “Wake up, baby.”
My eyes rolled trying to obey his command and my breathing wheezed through my heavily bruised throat.
“Good, Myshka, you’re learning,” he praised, his voice proud. I felt Alik push into me from behind and screamed a voiceless scream at the burning pain between my legs, the force of my cry like razor blades slicing at my throat.
Pain. All I felt was pain as I was taken again, glimpses of daylight breaking through the windows.
Daylight?
How long had I been here? Like this?
Alik pushed forward like a man possessed, his lesson for me to submit and never defy him again, not yet over. The more he thrust into me, the more I lost my vision, and as Alik bellowed my name, coming within me, he exhaled in relief and turned my head to lay a hard kiss on my lips.
I whimpered as his lips pushed against my swollen ones, and he flashed me another sweet smile before he got off the bed. I watched through aching eyes as Alik got dressed as though I wasn’t lying here in agony, unable to move… all by his hand.
Minutes later, Alik turned to me and strode forward, kneeling at my head lying askew on the mattress. He sighed and shook his head, running his fingers through my matted hair.
“You brought this on yourself, Myshka. But now you know what’ll happen if you try to fuck around on me again.” Alik’s eyes narrowed and he leaned closer and whispered in my ear, “Then again, if you do this again, I won’t ever be able to trust you, baby. So I’d just have to fucking kill you… and I’d kill myself too. Then we’d be together… always.”
My heart throbbed, and I came undone as he kissed my forehead and stood. Lifting a training bag over his shoulder, Alik looked back at me and said, “I’m gonna kill this fucker… slowly… make this bastard regret he ever fucked my woman.” He laughed, clearly amused. “He had no idea who he was fucking with, did he? They call me the butcher for a reason.”
I wanted to cry, to beg and to stop him from leaving, but I couldn’t move… could barely even cry.
“When I come back after the fight, with fresh blood on my hands, we’re gonna go to Vegas and get married, Myshka, once and for all. I’m tired of waiting.”
With that, Alik left, locking me inside this shack.
All I could do was cry and lie still until I lost the fight and submitted to the heavy pull of sleep.
Chapter Twenty
RAZE
“You’ve got this, Raze,” Viktor said as I pushed up from the ground, warming up my muscles, the fight only minutes away from being called. I’d trained all day. Blocked everything out of my mind but one thing… to kill Durov.
I could hear the roar of the crowd; it sounded bigger than on previous nights. It was the final, the ultimate fight unto the death, The Dungeon Championship.
Raze versus The Butcher.
“He has strength and experience, but so do you. He has speed and skill, but you’re more advanced. He’s unrivaled with a dagger, but you’re second-to-none with your spiked knuckledusters. He’s insane, but Raze,” Viktor stopped before me as I jumped to my feet and began sparring against the punch bag. Viktor reached out and held the bag, forcing me to look up. “But you’re here for revenge. Nothing even comes close to that as a drive.”
I grunted my agreement, my muscles firing up at his words. The only thing that would’ve made this better was Kisa. She’d said she was going to come and see me before the fight, but so far she hadn’t showed up.
“Kisa?” I asked Viktor as I pummeled the leather of the bag with my taped up fists.
Viktor shrugged and shook his head. “Not here yet. She isn’t even with Durov.”
That made me pause. Kisa was always at the gym when we trained. She was always with Durov before a fight. Where the hell could she be?
A slap to my cheek pulled me out of it and I snarled as Viktor pulled back his hand. “Focus, Raze. This is it, this is your chance. It’s life or death out there, get Kisa from your head.”
“I know,” I growled, his slap thrusting me back into a whole world of rage.
“Good,” Viktor said, “Because there’s more than just you who wants Durov gone.”
I glanced up at Viktor, his milky eyes boring into mine. “He’s made a lot of enemies, Raze. That crowd out there are like hungry wolves. You’re the first real contender Alik’s ever had. The rest he’s just played with like a fucking tiger plays with food, but with you, we all know you could be the one to kill him.” Viktor stepped forward and laid a hand on my shoulder. “You could kill the Bratva heir. There’s more than just gamblers here tonight, son. The Chinese, The Italian Mafia and Chechens want to see if the Bratva will be left vulnerable by your win.”