Page 9 of Where the Wind Whispers

Actually, all of him hurt. Every last inch of his body felt like he had been stuffed through a meat grinder and spit back out. Kaz almost wished he could fall back under, anything to escape the agony he was suffering from, but the pain was too great to do anything else but focus on himself.

Beeping machines slowly filtered in, then voices—calm, soothing voices that were telling him he would be just fine—that the doctor was coming in and the tube would be removed.

He tried to listen, tried to reason with himself, but he was lost in the pain, in the darkness that he couldn’t escape.

It felt like he was fucking drowning.

But as quickly as it all threatened to overwhelm him, he heard quick steps, a faint gasp, then a soft hand curling around his own, the dainty thing squeezing tight. “It’s okay. I’m right here, Kaz. I’m right here.”

Violet …

Her voice was enough to calm some of the panic threatening to consume him. He clung to that—squeezed her hand as tight as he could just to remind himself that she was real.

That he was alive.

Everything was still foggy, though he now knew he had to be in a hospital, considering the commotion going on around him. But where he had been … It still felt like he was there.

Like a tangible thing that wasn’t yet ready to let him go.

He could still feel the snow. How that cold bled into his clothes, sinking into his flesh, until it was the only thing he could focus on even as his life’s essence slowly left his body from the savage wound in his neck. As he’d laid there dying, he had almost been glad for it—thankful that, if even for a short period of time, the blood spilling from him had chased the cold away.

But even that small comfort hadn’t lasted for long—not when he was too weak to do anything more than lay there, staring up at the night sky.

Time hadn’t seemed so fluid then. It didn’t speed by in quick flashes. No, he felt every last beat of his heart, the organ working against him even as it tried to save his life. It was slow, and painful, at least until the numbness took him over.

That blessed numbness.

For once in his life, he hadn’t wanted to feel anything.

For once in his life, he had hoped death would take him quickly.

But as quickly as that thought had formed, he thought of Violet. His wife. The person in the world he loved the most.

He could only imagine her devastation at learning of his fate—what would happen to her once he was gone?

He had to live, if only for her.

But what could he do in the wee hours of the morning when there was no one around to hear him? He couldn’t call out for help—Vasily had made sure of that with a flick of his wrist. And with the blood loss, he had been too weak to do anything more than lay on the cold sidewalk as the snow fell all around him.

It would have been a beautiful death …

Until Rus found him.

The sound of squealing tires had jarred him awake, dragging him back to consciousness as treacherous hope flared, but even then, he had been too weak to even raise his hand. But his brother, the big stubborn bastard, hadn’t come alone.

And when he’d found him …

Kaz didn’t think he had ever seen his brother look so devastated. There was no anger, just a profound sadness and fear that told him he was closer to death than he realized.

You don’t get to fucking die! He remembered Rus saying those words low and sharp as his hands covered Kaz’s, as though that could help staunch the flow of blow that had gradually eased.

He clung to those words as his consciousness ebbed, even as Rus continued to shout at him, barking orders at the men who were near.

He’d still been shouting when Kaz had passed out.

How long ago had that been?

Trying to focus his chaotic thoughts on the present, Kaz let Violet’s hold anchor him as he felt another set of his hands on him. The scent of antiseptic assaulted his senses as the man, a doctor he assumed, carefully removed the tube from his mouth and throat.