His sharp gaze smooths around the edges for a split second. “You know more than anyone what this means.”
“I know this means trouble,” I admit. “But it doesn’t mean we have to take any rash actions. Actions that you can’t undo. I’ve had enough of those today.”
“That’s not how wars are won, Liya.”
I slam my hands on the table and shoot up from my seat. “That’s not how they’reendedeither!”
My vision blurs. Here come the tears again. The past couple of hours have felt like a fever dream, my head and throat stuffed full of thick cotton. It’s hard to think. It’s hard to breathe around the snot clogging my nostrils.
But I can’t seem to do much else.
Grief hollows my chest, draining me of energy. I have no fight left. I don’t want to argue with Pavel, but I also don’t want Zoya—or her baby—suffering at the hands of a monstrous plot for power.
I curl my fingers into fists. I stuff them into my lap as my throat tightens, shoulders bowing inward to try to hide my pain.
Who am I kidding? I can’t hide this. Not from Pavel. It’s stupid to think I can ever pull the wool over his eyes. Just like he can’t hide from me.
God, why did I have to ask for my brother’s phone? I just wanted to hear Jonas’s voice. I didn’t want to get in the middle of another battle.
Exhaustion creeps into my upper back.
I don’t want to fight anymore.
My forehead rests on the table. I take a few cleansing breaths, trying to soothe myself from having another fit. Sobbing isn’t going to help anyone. I have to clear my head if I want to see this through. I have to figure out what Pavel is doing and try to talk him down from anything irrational.
Or horrific.
When I lift my head, a cup of hot tea sits near my glass of water. My instinct is to lift it and inhale the warm, comforting wisps of lavender curling from the surface of the liquid. A few sips later, I set it down, the cotton in my brain dissolving slightly.
Pavel sits next to me. “Zoyamustbe found, Liya. We have to get to her before this news spreads—before someone else gets to her.”
I know he means Cardona without saying it.
“And what are you planning on doing with her?” I ask as I glance around. “Keeping her locked in a dungeon so nobody else can get to her? Not until the kid is born?” I snort. “You’re a real hero, Pavel.”
His silence irritates me.
He’s not saying no…
And it frightens me.
“Pavel,” I whisper. “What are you going to do?”
A mask clouds his face, features smoothing into a look of relaxed concentration, the same one he wears around his brigadiers. Nothing can get through that mask. And it’s aggravating to try to chip away at it just to see what’s underneath.
“Pavel,” I repeat.
He looks away.
I shake my head as I lift my teacup, averting my gaze. “When will it be enough for you?”
“What?”
I take a small sip. “I should have stopped you. I should have just told you to kick Jonas out.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No,” I admit. “That was my mistake. I showed a moment of weakness.”