But nothing about this mission to the Southern Region had been simple, and as Nikhail stepped inside the building, he realized he should’ve assumed that everything had been too easy until this point.
Their intel was wrong. The building wasn’t empty at all.
He barely had enough time to shout a warning to the others before a powerful gust of wind slammed into him.
Another air fae was present. Nikhail scooped up his magic and lobbed it in the attacker’s direction. There was a grunt. A gunshot.
Nikhail shouted orders to his team and gathered more magic in his palm. Then, like the soldier he was, he pushed all thought aside andfought.
CHAPTER 31
Cursed from the Start
A Day Later
Fuck.
The word, short and to the point, fit the situation and Nikhail’s feelings perfectly. Usually, Nikhail believed in diversifying his language choices, but not today.
Sands save him, this was fuckingbad.
Nikhail pressed a hand against his side, grimacing at the dampness he found there. He’d wrapped the injury as best he could, but current conditions meant that no matter how hard he tried to keep his wound clean, it was practically impossible. While his wound hadn’t gotten any worse since he’d been down here, it also hadn’t healed.
Unsurprisingly, the rebels had resorted to their old trick of using prohiberis-laced bullets. At least this time, the bullet had only grazed his side. He was grateful, he supposed, that the wound wasn’t worse.
The dim fluorescent light above Nikhail’s head flickered, and he groaned. The sound echoed throughout the bunker. The mainliving space was large and open, with a kitchenette against one wall and a cot against the other. One hallway led to a bathroom and a linen closet. Another hallway, on the other end of the space, led to the tunnel.
Across the way, Therian flicked open an eye. He looked every bit as weary as Nikhail felt. The dragon shifter’s arm was bandaged, and his face was a map of scrapes and bruises. Nikhail was sure his wasn’t any better. Stephan was stretched out across the room from him, his back against the bunker wall as he drifted in and out of sleep. Dirt smudged his hands and face, and his chest rose and fell steadily.
Nikhail was glad one of them was getting some rest.
No one had escaped the ambush unscathed—physically or emotionally—and the air was heavy with grief. They’d lost two of their own the day before. Dalyn and Xavier had both fallen, victims of the rebels’ surprise attack. Even though he hadn’t been close with either man, Nikhail would forever bear the weight of their deaths on his conscience.
They’d died because Nikhail hadn’t been fast enough.
He would be the one to tell their families of their passings… if they ever got out of here. Right now, he wasn’t sure that would happen.
Nikhail’s heart squeezed. He’d always known that dying on the job was a possibility, but he’d never really considered that it might happen to him.
It was a cruel twist of fate that he’d spent years pining for River, wanting her even though he knew he wasn’t the best choice for her, and now that they’d finally started exploring what they could be, it was all going to be ripped away from them.
He wished he could’ve had another moment with her. Just one, so he could tell her that he loved her. Those three words had been sitting on the tip of his tongue for days, but he’d kept them inside because the moment hadn’t felt right.
But now, it seemed they weren’t going to get another moment. There would be no more chances for Nikhail to tell River. All thanks to this fucked-up mission and the way things had gone wrong, time after time.
The only thing they’d been right about was Harringdale’s location. The bear shifter had, in fact, been in the bunker.
When Nikhail and his team arrived, bloody and grieving their losses, they’d managed to overpower the bear shifter, but not before he slammed his hand down on a red button that caused the tunnel outside the bunker to collapse.
Harringdale had laughed, a cold, dark sound that sent shivers coursing down Nikhail’s spine. He’d continued to do so even as Therian injected him with a sedative they’d brought for that very purpose.
It was only after the bear shifter had been subdued that they realized the extent to which everything had gone to shit. The ladder that was supposed to run from the bunker to the surface didn’t exist. Or if it did, they couldn’t find it.
When Nikhail had realized they were trapped down there with nowhere to go, Harringdale cackled.
“You’re going to die down here with me,” the rebel leader had slurred as Therian pushed another syringe into his arm. One sedative apparently hadn’t been enough. “You think you can escape? You’re wrong. There’s no way out. Your deaths will be on the Chancellor’s shoulders, along with thousands of others she’s caused.”
Once, Nikhail would’ve taken the words as an idle threat from a man who was cornered, nothing more. But now, a day had passed, and they were no closer to escaping this place. There was no signal in the bunker, no way to communicate with the outside world.