Nikolai

Alyssa stands naked, a gun aimed steady at Logan's head, and the three of us stand around her like guard dogs—tense, alert, waiting to see which way this moment breaks.

No one says a word.

Not even him.

But it's obvious now. He's not War.

Hasn't been since last night.

While our girl was taking back her power—fucking us like vengeance in the flesh—we never took our eyes off him. Not when every damn glance he threw her way was coated in ...