One

      The beeping of the instruments measuring Anastasia Shepherd’s vitals quickened as she surfaced from her oppressive slumber.

      But she didn’t want to wake up. She preferred the horrors she faced in sleep over the nightmare her life had become after the attack that had ended her brother’s life, and left her struggling for hers.

      She squeezed her lids harder against the macabre images. The masked gunmen, the muted gunfire, the crimson blossoming over Alex’s white shirt as he collapsed beside her, bullets tearing into her own body.

      In her shock, she’d somehow known she wouldn’t die, not immediately. She’d also known one other thing. That she’d needed to protect her brother from further injury with whatever was left of her life. She’d thrown herself over Alex’s body as their attackers approached them like inescapable doom.

      But she’d only seen them fall. Like disposable opponents in a vicious video game at the hands of an expert player. It had made no sense. Until she’d seen him.

      Ivan.

      The man who’d walked away from her without a word seven years ago.

      He’d swooped down on her and Alex, and right before darkness had claimed her, she’d heard him say what she’d dreamed he’d come back one day and say.

      I’m here now.

      And he’d been with her ever since. Through the whole ordeal of the past three weeks. Always sitting beside her bed like a sentinel. Watching over her, catering to her every need. Answering none of her questions.

      “It