38. Elena #3
A sharp twist. A sickening crack. And then…silence.
Wendell’s body collapses. Lifeless.
The sound of his body hitting the ground echoes through the space. The silence presses against my ears until it almost hurts.
No more threats. No more running. No more wondering what nightmare waits around the next corner. For the first time in over a year, the fight is over. Oksana is gone. Wendell is gone.
It’s over.
It’s a slow realization, like the dust drifting through the air.
We won.
So why does it feel like I’ve lost all over again?
The answer comes as quickly as the question. Because with the danger finally gone, there’s nothing left to drown out the grief. It crashes into me with crushing force. They’re dead... but their damage isn’t.
It lives in the empty space beside us. In the silence where his laugh should be. In the voice I’ll never hear telling me I’m stronger than I think I am, that I’m making the right choice, that somehow... everything will be okay.
My chest caves beneath the weight of it.
He’s really gone. Not for this mission. Not until the next fight.
Forever.
I swallow against the ache climbing my throat and lift my gaze.
Alexei stands over him, chest rising and falling hard, his hands slowly curling into fists at his sides.
I wonder if he feels it too. That unbearable quiet. That hollow certainty. The knowledge that we stopped the monsters... but we’ll spend the rest of our lives living with what they took from us.
“A little help,” Ruslan grunts.
Reality crashes back in.
I run.
Alexei is beside me seconds later, both of us grabbing hold of the fallen weight on Ruslan, lifting with everything we have. Our muscles strain, and the log shifts enough for us to deposit the branch away from Ruslan and Clara.
Alexei and I drop beside him, the weight still pressing down between us. Ruslan stays where he is for a second, head tipped forward, dragging in a breath before rolling his shoulders like he’s forcing them back into place.
Then he’s with us again.
“On three,” Alexei mutters.
We shift our grips along the length of it, fingers searching for anything solid to hold. Wood bites into my palms.
“One…two…”
We lift. It barely gives.
A strained breath slips out of Ruslan as he adjusts, pushing harder this time. The trunk creaks, rising enough to make progress.
“Again.”
We reset, and lift higher.
“Now,” I gasp.
Alexei reaches in, careful, quick, easing Clara’s trapped leg free before the weight slips.
Clara drags her legs free, scrambling back with a sharp hiss of pain.
Ruslan stumbles back, rolling his shoulders, breath ragged.
Alexei drops beside Clara. “You, okay?”
She nods once, jaw tight. “I’ve had worse.”
The woods fall quiet around us.
I look around. At the bodies and the aftermath.
“It’s over,” I whisper.
Alexei hears it.
I know he does. He wouldn’t need his special abilities to tell him so, because when I look at him, something in his expression softens for me.
My feet move before I think.
And then I’m in his arms.
His warmth surrounds me, solid, real. My face presses into his neck, his breath brushing my hair.
He’s here. Alive.
I close my eyes. And breathe for the first time since this began.
Alive.
When I finally pull back, something catches my eye. A glow. Soft. Blue.
Inanna stands at the edge of the trees, watching. A faint smile curves her lips. And then… she’s gone.
I blink, the space empty.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my hands rising to Alexei’s face.
He exhales slowly. “No.” His fingers brush my cheek, gentle despite everything. “But I will be.”
I nod.
Because I understand. Because I’ve felt it too. I’ve seen what it takes to end someone like Wendell, and what it leaves behind.
He was a threat. We all knew that. But I also know that look, the one that settles in after the quiet, hollow kind that doesn’t fade when the fight’s over.
I’ve carried it myself, once, when anger was the only thing that felt solid enough to hold onto.
It doesn’t matter how justified it is. It stays.
My gaze finds him, steady, certain. He won’t carry it alone.
“You think we’re walking out of here?” Clara cuts in, trying, and failing, to stand without wincing.
Ruslan is already there, steadying her. Her gaze stays on him a minute too long before she looks away.
I turn, Alexei’s arm draped over my shoulder, keeping me close to his side. “Let’s go home,” he declares.
Home. Together. Nothing has ever sounded better.
“What are you doing?” Clara asks, affronted.
“Carry you,” Ruslan answers bluntly. “You can’t walk on that ankle.”
“I can walk,” she snaps.
Ruslan smirks. “Afraid you’ll like it?”
“Dream on.”
Ruslan leans in. “Maybe I will.”
Clara tries to take a step, but her face is riddled with pain, and she fails.
I can’t stop the smile creeping across my face. The memory hits me, how stubborn I’d been, refusing to let Alexei carry me back through the woods after escaping Ivan’s compound.
I glance up. He’s watching me. That faint lift of his brow, the corner of his mouth twitching, it tells me he’s thinking of that same exact moment.
“Come on, Малышка,” Ruslan calls, bending smoothly to sweep Clara’s legs from under her until she’s lifted in his arms.
“Call me that again and I’ll rip out your tongue,” Clara growls.
Ruslan laughs, pivoting, carrying her back toward the mansion grounds.
“What is Maly?—”
“Малышка,” Alexei interrupts, flawless pronunciation.
One brow lifts. “You speak Russian?”
A hint of amusement curls his lips. “I speak many languages.”
“How did I not know this?” I mutter, caught off guard, speechless.
He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Lucky you’ve got a lifetime to learn everything, baby girl.”
I arch a brow. “Baby girl?”
He smirks. “It’s what Малышка means.”
My eyes drift to Ruslan and Clara, their footsteps fading across the property.
There would still be challenges ahead, no doubt, but for now, this little thread of connection, of shared moments are something we all carry together.
The weight of everything settles, but it doesn’t crush.
Not anymore. We’re still standing.
Together.
And for the first time… that feels like enough.