Kasien #2
“Kas,” Adrien’s voice cuts through the haze. “My wound opened. I’ll take her, and you cover me, okay?”
I finally lift my head and look up at him, forcing myself to pull back, though my hands don’t want to let go.
I can’t. I can’t let go of her anymore.
“Kas, just for a second. I can’t cover you like this,” Adrien silently urges me to let go, then slips her chained arms around his neck, scooping her up with careful strength despite the blood slowly dripping from his side.
Okay.
Let’s go.
Let’s go home.
We cover them from all sides, moving through the hallway, but no more guards appear.
The estate feels wrong. Too quiet and empty, almost haunted, like the walls themselves are holding their breath.
We step into the cold night air and Kiara gasps, a sharp inhale like she’s surfacing from underwater. She starts squirming in Adrien’s hold, mumbling against his collarbone.
“Kasien,”
“I’m here, I’m here, baby,” I take her face in my palms and run my thumbs over her damp skin. “Right here.”
Adrien shifts her carefully back into my arms when we’re back in the woods, far enough from the building.
Her fingers clutch weakly at my shirt as her eyes flutter open, trying to make sense of the dark forest around us.
“No,” she whispers and starts to shake. She tries again, voice slurred. “We need to go back.” Her breath warms the skin at my neck, her words soft but terrified. “We need to go back for Natalya.”
Adrien stops beside me, confusion written across his face.
“She’s drugged. She’s confused,” I tell him, shifting her weight in my arms.
“No,” she insists, barely audible. “She’s there.”
Adrien stares at her, jaw tightening, whole body tensing.
“Kiara, that’s not possible. She lives on the other side of this world. I made sure of it,” he tells her.
“Adrien, please.” Her voice is faint but desperate. “I swear. She’s there. With Lucien.”
That makes zero sense. Lucien wasn’t even in the house. We swept the whole house.
Marko finally adds, “We forgot the garage behind the property. He could still be there.”
I don’t care.
I have her.
I’m not risking anything anymore, we can take him some other time.
“Adrien, please,” Kiara breathes, her voice breaking.
I look at Adrien—he’s frozen, thinking. And then he suddenly turns around sharply and starts heading back toward the estate.
“Adrien, stop. Don’t go blind,” I yell at him but he doesn’t stop.
“I’ll be right back. It’s already empty,” he shouts back.
Idiot.
Fucking idiot.
I curse under my breath and shove Kiara into Dorian’s arms.
“Take her to the cars. Don’t stop.”
This is the last time I’m ever leaving her. Last time. I swear to God, last time.
Fucking Adrien.
I turn to Marko and gesture to him, “With me.”
We run toward Adrien, when the fog swallows his silhouette as he disappears into the tree line.
We catch up with him right in front of the entrance. Adrien’s jaw is set, eyes locked ahead. I check my gun, safety off, finger already resting on the trigger as I lift it in front of me, ready for whatever we left behind.
We move slowly through the main lobby, boots barely whispering against the floor as Marko leads us toward a door that we completely ignored before. He opens it and we follow, taking the stairs down.
The air changes immediately, it’s colder, denser, smelling like oil and rubber. As soon as Marko steps into the garage, the world cracks.
One single suppressed shot. The bullet punches clean through his forehead and his body snaps backward, then slams onto the concrete with a sickening thud. Blood pools instantly, dark and spreading.
“Fuck!” I hiss, diving behind the nearest column. Adrien mirrors me, sliding into cover, both our guns aimed at the dark corner the shot came from.
And then I see him.
Lucien steps into the weak light like he owns the room, leaning casually against a black SUV. One arm locked around a body, a woman's body, and when he shifts her slightly into the light, my blood turns to ice.
Natalya.
White hair cascading over her shoulder, eyes glassy, empty, fixed somewhere far beyond us. Lucien presses the barrel of a suppressed gun to her neck with a lazy familiarity, his fingers curved almost tenderly around her waist.
Adrien goes completely still beside me, like someone removed the bones from his body and left him carved from shock.
“Took you long enough,” Lucien drawls. His voice drips into the silence like poison. “Guns down, both of you. Send them my way.”
We hesitate a fraction too long, and his grip on Natalya tightens, bringing her closer, her throat arched dangerously against the barrel.
We drop the guns. Kick them forward.
“Knives too,” Lucien adds, amused. “Come on. Don’t make this boring.”
The metal skitters across the concrete.
He sighs with satisfaction.
“Perfect. Now we can talk.”
He drags the gun down from Natalya’s neck and lets go of her entirely. She stands beside him obediently, blank, her chest rising too fast like her body wants to panic but her mind can’t access the instinct.
He starts speaking. Taunts, commands, demands, but my brain barely registers it. I keep staring at my sister, wondering how the hell this is real. Wondering how deep into her head he got.
And then, with no warning, no breath, no emotion, Natalya’s hands flash to the knives at her waist.
One fluid pull.
Two blades in her grip.
And the next heartbeat, they’re flying.
One slams into my thigh. The second hits Adrien, same wound. I choke on the pain, dropping to one knee as fire rips through my leg. Adrien collapses beside me, blood blooming through his shirt from the old wound, dripping onto the floor.
Lucien watches us with mild interest, like we’re a show he’s already seen but still enjoys.
Fuck.
How is this possible? We had our last check from the PD just a month ago. Nat was supposed to be at her house.
This is not possible.
This is not even her.
Lucien stands there beside my sister, fully relaxed, while Nat is by his side, her face empty and hollow, with a smile that’s almost eerie, looking at him like he’s her God.
Adrien looks at me, his eyes wet with tears threatening to fall down, but he doesn’t let them. We exchange the terror in our eyes and look back at Lucien, who just rested his weight against the black SUV and crossed his legs at the ankles.
He takes a deep breath and starts, “I apologize for keeping your girl for so long but I actually thought you’ll find us much sooner,” he says with a half-smile. “Anyway, I need you to do me one more favor.”
“What do you want,” I grit out, the pain from the knife stuck in my thigh muscle getting worse with every breath I take.
“I need you two to kill my father,” he says with complete seriousness.
Silence settles over us.
“Don’t look so shocked. You inspired me, with that parental homicide, the fire and all.” He crosses his arms over his chest, enjoying this moment too much.
We just kneel on the ground, barely able to move thanks to that little blade my dear sister apparently learned how to use.
What the actual fuck.
“I tried to bond, remember, Kas? I thought we could be friends, you know. Trauma-bonded,” he does the air quotes and laughs at his little pathetic joke. “But then you made that deal with my father, and you took Natalya away from me.”
His eyes darken, while he just stands there, looking down at us, when it clicks in my brain.
“She isn’t something to claim, you psycho,” Adrien chokes out, the blood from both of his wounds is starting to leak down on the floor.
“Yeah, I figured, when she went fucking mental when you died,” Lucien laughs under his breath. “But you left her rotting in that psych ward for almost a year.” Lucien winks at him and my insides turn upside down.
Was she here all those years?
“Okay, so, we’re about to go, you two know what to do, I don’t care how you do it, I just want him dead. Here’s your motivation.” He circles his hand around my sister’s shoulders and leads her to his car, taking her away.
I can’t stand up and I can’t think. Adrien is bleeding. My sister is—
I don’t know what she is now. And I don’t know what to do.
“If you do as you’re told, she’s all yours and you’ll never hear about me again, you have my word,” he tells us before he turns around, about to walk away, but Adrien grunts and then moves.
He grabs the knife in his leg, rips it out in one violent motion, his blood sprays across the floor, and then he smoothly flips the blade in his hand. His eyes lock on Lucien, and he throws.
The knife cuts the air like a streak of silver lightning, burying itself deep into Lucien’s shoulder joint, right where the muscle meets the clavicle. The impact is sickening, perfect, disabling. Lucien’s arm spasms violently, the gun clattering to the floor as his knees buckle.
He screams, real and furious.
Natalya shrieks, a raw, animal sound, she spins, launching herself at Adrien with her nails, with her whole body, feral and terrified. Adrien catches her mid-charge, arms locking around her even as she thrashes, pounding her fists into his chest, ripping at his shirt.
“Nat—Nat, stop—” he breathes, voice breaking, tears bright in his eyes. “It’s me. It’s me, please—hey—hey—Selvaggia mia, look at me—”
But she doesn’t hear him.
She’s gone somewhere he can’t reach, screaming and sobbing, fingers clawing at him like she’s trying to tear herself free of her own skin.
Lucien staggers, clutching his ruined shoulder, and that’s all I need.
I launch forward despite the pain in my thigh, crossing the distance in three uneven steps.
I slam him into the SUV, forearm across his throat, pinning him with every ounce of weight my leg will give me.
He snarls something but it dies in his throat when I press harder.
I rip my fist back and drive it into his jaw. One clean hit and he just shuts off. His body folds, sliding down the SUV until it pools at my feet. I finally exhale the breath I’ve been holding this entire time and turn.
Behind me, Natalya is still screaming, kicking, sobbing, tearing at Adrien’s shirt with what little strength she has left.
Adrien holds her through it, whispering broken pleas into her hair, his tears sliding down her face with her own.
His knees hit the floor again, blood dripping from his wounds and soaking into her clothes.
I pull out my phone with shaking fingers and call Dorian. He answers on the first ring.
“I need a dose of lorazepam in the garage. Now.”
Lucien’s unconscious body lies sprawled by my boot, and Natalya is finally collapsing in Adrien’s arms, or maybe he’s the one collapsing, trying to hold her together while he’s falling apart himself.
My little sister.