Merciless Saints (St. Monarch's Academy 1)

When we finally reach the first SUV, I climb in the back with Cillian. Damien gets in next to me while Alexei takes the driver's side and Demitri the passenger side.

The other men pile into the other SUV, and then we leave for the private airfield.

I keep staring at Cillian, still not able to believe he’s alive. My eyes scan over his body and seeing his bruises, I wish I could kill the Blancos again. I shudder as I begin to see more wounds. He’s missing an earlobe. Broken nose. Old and new bruises coloring his face and neck.

“We’ll take care of you as soon as we’re home,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Can you hold out a couple of hours?”

“Walk in the park after the past four days,” he mumbles.

I watch as he fights to remain conscious, his eyes glued to mine. “My Poppet.”

My lips tremble as I try to smile at him. “My Cillian.”

Alexei parks by the private jet, and then he helps Damien get Cillian into the plane. I take the seat next to Cillian and strap him in. His head lolls to the side, his eyes locking on me again.

“We’re going home,” I murmur as I put on my own seat belt.

Damien takes a seat across from me, his eyes darting between Cillian and me.

When we take off, Cillian whispers, “Home.”

I watch as his eyes drift shut, then Demitri says, “That’s good. Let him sleep.” As soon as we reach altitude, Demitri goes to get a first aid kit then tells me, “Move to another chair.”

I get up and take the seat next to Damien and across from Cillian. Demitri opens the box and takes out an injection which has me asking, “What’s that?”

“It will help keep him sedated while we check how badly he got hurt.”

As soon as he administers the injection, Demitri begins to unbutton Cillian’s shirt. There’s a bandage around him, but blood has already seeped through and dried to black.

“Help me, Winter,” Demitri instructs, and I move off the seat. “Hold him so I can take this bandage off.

I pull Cillian to me and let his head rest against my stomach while Demitri goes to work. After a minute or so, Demitri mutters, “Looks like he has an infection. We’ll need to get antibiotics in him.”

“We have supplies at home,” I answer. “We made sure to have everything needed to treat a gunshot after I got shot.”

“Good,” Damien murmurs.

“You can lean him back,” Demitri says, and as I carefully position Cillian’s head against the seat, I glance down at the gunshot wound he took to the chest. It’s swollen and red around the bullet hole, and there’s a dark bruise spreading over the side of his chest.

Demitri covers the wound with a clean dressing. “As soon as we get home, get me the antibiotics.”

“Okay,” I murmur, my eyes scanning over Cillian in disbelief.

Damien takes hold of my hand and pulls me to the restroom. Just like the time when I thought Cillian was dead, Damien washes the blood off my hands and gently dries them.

“Thank you,” I murmur, and then it sinks in, knocking the breath from my lungs. “Cillian’s alive,” I gasp as the first tear of absolute joy falls.

DAMIEN

I pull Winter into my arms and press a kiss to her hair. “I’m happy for you, Princess.”

I hold her while she struggles to regain control over her emotions, and when she finally looks up at me, I press a kiss to her lips.

“Let’s take our seats. We’ll land soon.”

Getting back to the seats, Winter checks Cillian’s seat belt before she sits down. I strap her in and then take hold of her hand, linking my fingers with hers.

Demitri puts the first aid kit away. After he washes his hands, he sits down next to Alexei and straps himself in.

Our eyes meet, and the corner of my mouth lifts as pride fills my chest.

As soon as the plane touches down, we get up, and Demitri helps me carry Cillian off the plane.

Winter runs ahead to the house, and then I hear her call out, “Dana! Dana!” The front door opens, and as Dana appears, Winter yells, “We have Cillian. He’s alive.”

Dana’s hand goes to her mouth when her eyes land on us, and then she rushes back inside the house with Winter right behind her.

When we carry Cillian inside, Dana urgently says, “His room is across from Miss Winter’s. She’s gone to unlock it.” She follows after us as we take Cillian upstairs.

Winter comes rushing out of his room, and when she sees us, she darts back inside. She pulls the bedding back before we carefully lay Cillian down.

“Dana,” Demitri calls. “Help me get the clothes off so we can check all his wounds.”

I walk to Winter and take hold of her arm. “Leave them to tend to him. I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to see him naked.”