Chapter 291: No Lord In The Dark, Little Soldier

[FROLO]

Katya Romanov was airlifted to Sergei’s penthouse three days ago.

Sergei had given the Romanovs access codes to his penthouse if ever they wanted to see their son. He’d had cars at their gates in case they needed to move and didn’t trust their means of transport.

He’d vamped up Romanov security.

He’d basically told the Romanovs and the Romanov friends that his penthouse was theirs to access whenever they felt like it.

Yet for those three days, despite having all that access that many would kill for, despite having the kind of power that many would never give up, neither of them showed up.

Sergei had cleared his employees in the penthouse to allow for space for the Romanov camp.

Still, they didn’t.

They called, though. To check on Katya. To know how Katya was doing. But to come to Moskowsky even through the private channels Sergei had organized was something they didn’t exploit.

The alpha kept them updated as promised. Called them four times a day, every six hours. It didn’t matter where he was. He always called if they didn’t call.

One thing had remained constant through it, though.

Sergei Moskowsky hadn’t slept a wink, and he seemed to be getting worse with every phone call made. But they didn’t push. Didn’t try to tell him to sleep because, honestly, it was pointless to tell him. The man hadn’t left Katya’s side ever.

Inside the penthouse, the nurses were worried for the mad Moskowsky.

He’d wake up at five and cook breakfast. Then lunch hour, he’d cook food too. Same with dinner. The alpha prepared three meals a day every single day, hoping Katya would wake up.

He knew Katya was sedated and would probably wake up after the three days, but he still got ready.

"In case Solnyshka wakes up," he’d tell himself.

So, for those three days, Sergei stayed beside Katya.

Reading him storybooks, informing him of what was happening around him out there. Save for the bratva and the attacks. He kept him updated on what Svet and Andre said, what his parents had said.

He didn’t hold back. And when he wasn’t reading, Sergei was watching over Katya.

Today was the fourth day.

Katya had yet to wake up.

And Sergei, he didn’t push. Did as he always did, even when he was clearly staggering. Even when he burnt himself in the kitchen from lack of sleep.

He had to be good for his Solnyshka. He had to be better at protecting Katya.

Anya had tried to get him to sleep, but Sergei had refused.

He couldn’t.

"I don’t deserve to rest when he’s hurting," he’d said more than once.

The first time he said that, Mr. Romanov called the bluff.

And when Anya called the Romanovs on the second day, they slowly realized the alpha was insane. He was losing his shit over Katya. It was unhealthy, yet even they were unable to get through to him.

"The only way he’ll rest is if Katya wakes," Svet had said somewhere along the way. It was the most unexpected opinion and from the most unexpected of persons.

"How do you know that?" Mr. Romanov had asked on the other side of the city.

"Because every decision that man makes is influenced by the look on Romanov’s face. The only thing stopping him from burning down the bratva is the sleeping Romanov. He won’t leave without seeing my friend awake and alive.

"Don’t try to talk him out of it... Andre and I learned the hard way," Svet had simply said, like it was common knowledge.

Maybe it was.

Maybe it wasn’t.

But the only thing that mattered was that Sergei and his bond with Katya were bound to doom so many eventually. Which side that was would also be determined by how Katya looked when he woke up.

Back in the penthouse, the midday nurses had just clocked out from their shift. And as always, Sergei thanked them and went to his bedroom, where Katya lay on his bed.

Sergei had looked forward to spending the night beside his Solnyshka, to having his Solnyshka enter his penthouse, but not like this. Never like this.

Of course, right now, the lunch was on the bedside table while Sergei stared at a sleeping Katya. He looked achingly beautiful.

His wounds had healed by the second day. The doctors said it was because of Sergei’s rainforest pheromones. That they kept the omega calm.

What they had not told him was the fact that the pheromones only worked because Katya’s body had long accepted them before the accident. That Katya had considered the rainforest scent home for him.

But Sergei, he knew enough about alpha and omega bonds, about pheromones and rejections to know that it only worked because Katya wanted it to.

And that should have made him happier.

Yet it only made him sadder.

Because Katya was still sleeping.

"Sir, you need to sign some papers," Volkov said as he opened the door to Sergei’s bedroom. He knew the man was just a ghost in his element.

Honestly, at this point, if Volkov were to bring papers that could steal the entire Moskowsky empire from Sergei’s hold, Sergei would probably just sign them. He trusted Volkov.

And because empires could be rebuilt.

Money could be gotten back.

But there was only one Katya.

His beloved.

"Give me a minute," Sergei said as he looked at Katya. He wished the omega would wake up. But he also wasn’t about to shake him awake. If his Solnyshka needed rest, then he would get it.

When the door closed behind Volkov, Sergei got up and walked to where Katya was.

"My beautiful Solnyshka," Sergei breathed before kissing Katya’s forehead. Then he ran a hand softly down Katya’s face before he forced himself to walk out of the room.

Besides, it was just a signature.

He would be back before Katya woke up... right?

Yet as fate would have it, barely moments after Sergei left the room, Katya Romanov woke up, and the first thing he saw was the grey ceiling with a yellow chandelier hanging.

The ceiling was almost, almost familiar because he knew he’d seen it in a few places over the years.

The chandelier, though...

"No..." Katya whimpered as he looked around him.

Everything was either black or grey. There was no sign of life in this place, and it didn’t help that his head was heavy, as was his body.

And Katya turned his head to the side, trying to figure out as much as he could about where he was.

To the left, there was nothing. Just white curtains that let the light in through a ridiculously large window.

On his right, though, was a swag and a book that was barely shut. On the bedside table was food, probably for whoever was watching over him.

Or watching him.

Then...

The smell of pelmeni.

But not just any pelmeni smell.

The one that he’d gotten used to whenever Sergei cooked it for him.

"I’m a dead man. Great," Katya grumbled before he began struggling to get out of the bed.

He was free.

And it was weird because the last thing Katya remembered after the explosion was Sergei raging and demanding he be found.

Was this how he died?

Before he could even process that, though, the door to the room he was in opened, and Katya had never ducked back under the covers that fast.

"You scared me, Solnyshka," a pained, gruff voice hit his ears from the door.

And Katya froze.