Prologue Matvey

PROLOGUE: MATVEY

I step through the woods in dead silence.

Yuri is covering my left flank, Grisha my right. With a single gesture from me, they spread out, circling the edge of the forest. The moon is high, but the trees swallow it whole, hiding it from sight. Behind the clouds, the stars are blind. There is no light to guide the way.

Only me.

I send my men into a wide arc around the perimeter. Then, with my gun drawn, I advance alone.

It's better this way. This is what suits me best. Me, myself, and the cold bite of steel in my hands.

I don't need to be betrayed twice tonight.

I make my way into the heart of the woods. Slowly, without stepping on a single branch. There are sentinels everywhere around here—it's a good thing they're as dumb as they look.

Finally, I spot it: a cabin in the distance. The windows are lit, a faint yellow seeping into the black and green around it.

Almost there. Just a few more seconds, and you'll find her.

Just a few more seconds, and she'll be in your hands again.

I listen in. Muffled conversation comes my way, but I can't make out a sound. No matter. This will all end quickly.

With my back to the cabin wall, I breathe in deep. I count back from three, two, one …

Then I kick down the cabin door and I see her. The mother of my child. The woman who disappeared from my life on my wedding day.

And the witch who took my daughter from me.

"April."

I want to demand explanations. Want to get up in her face and bellow with rage. I want to fucking howl.

But right now, all the anger I've nursed over these long weeks apart is knocked back. Right now, as I stare at the woman who ruined my life, I'm forced to swallow my fury.

Because there's another man in the room.

And he's pointing a gun at April's head.

I train my eyes on the shiny barrel. "Let her go," I snarl, my own weapon raised and ready to strike.

The man in the shadows chuckles. I can't see his face like this, nothing past a sharp chin. Only the cold glint of steel in one hand…

And the pink bundle cradled in the other.

Half-asleep, the baby coos weakly. I take in its little face: the shape of its nose, the curve of its tiny mouth, the color of its sparse hair.

There's no mistaking who it belongs to: it's April's, through and through.

Which means…

"Give me my daughter!" I roar.

But once again, the man simply laughs. There's something in his laughter that makes my skin crawl—something fucking creepy.

And fucking familiar, too.

It can't be , I tell myself, forcing my grip not to waver. It's too early for this. We're not ready yet.

I can't face him now.

As if reading my mind, the man steps out of the shadows. Slow, at his leisure—as if taking a stroll in the goddamn park.

And then, when he comes in full view, my worst fear is confirmed. When he smiles that horrifying smile, teeth gleaming like fangs, I know there's no one else this can be.

Only one person.

"You."