bound by chaos

6. Nikolai

Patience has never been my strongest trait.

And with my Lotus Flower's life on line, I'm running on a fucking thin thread that is about to snap.

The Serpents. The name alone sends a fresh wave of venom coursing through my veins. They had always been a ghost in the underworld-a whisper, a shadow, never quite within reach. But now, they've made the gravest mistake of all: they've made it personal.

My thoughts spiral into a dark place as I weave through the nearly deserted streets, Landon keeping pace beside me. The city blurs around us, a cacophony of lights and noise that barely registers. All that matters is getting to those coordinates, to where Brandon is. I grip the handlebars tighter, my knuckles aching, but the pain is nothing compared to the searing need to have him back, safe in my arms.

Landon tries to keep up, but I can feel the distance growing between us. He's good-great even-but he's not running on the same fuel I am. He doesn't have the same fire in his veins, the same gut-wrenching fear that if we're too late, everything will be lost. I twist the throttle, pushing my bike to its limits, the engine roaring like a beast unleashed.

As the GPS guides me to a part of the city I rarely visit, the buildings grow more derelict, the streets narrower, shrouded in darkness. It's the kind of place where secrets thrive, where the law is just another ghost. The Serpents would choose somewhere like this-a place that swallows people whole without a trace.

I will make them regret even being born.

The coordinates bring me to an old warehouse on the outskirts of town, its windows broken, the structure barely standing. I kill the engine and dismount, my boots crunching on the gravel as I approach the building. Every instinct screams that this is a trap, that I'm walking straight into the jaws of the beast, but I don't care. Brandon is in there-I can feel it.

If someone would have told me a few months back that I would physically fucking feel a man's presence , that thread tying us together, I would have fucking laughed at their faces and given a few punches to prove a point.

Landon finally catches up, his breath harsh from the angers brewing in him, his eyes sharp. He gives me a look-one that says he's ready to tear the place apart brick by brick if necessary. I nod, acknowledging the unspoken agreement between us: we leave no one standing.

We move silently toward the entrance, our footsteps muffled by the oppressive quiet of the night. Dad is waiting for me by the door, perimeter already covered by our people. None of these fucking snakes would be leaving alive today.

The UK, my dad had said worked quite differently from back home. Something about precautions. So he had talked to his god father to arrange somethings before giving me the coordinates. Good thinking because I was ready to wreak havoc.

They know Brandon is here, hidden in the deepest room, alone.

Without hesitation, I take a step back and kick it in, the old wood splintering under the force. The sound echoes through the empty halls, but I don't care. Subtlety isn't an option anymore.

Inside, the warehouse is a labyrinth of shadows and rusted machinery. The air is thick with the smell of oil and decay, every creak and groan of the building setting my nerves on edge. But I push it all aside, focusing only on the task at hand.

We don't even need to get our guns out, shots are fired, killing every single serpent that dares to stop our way.

We creep through the maze of corridors, every step bringing us closer to the center of this hellhole. I strain to hear any sound that might give away anything about my Brandon, my pulse pounding in my ears. Then, faintly, I hear it-a muffled cry, desperate and broken, even among the chaos around me. My heart lurches, and I break into a sprint like a madman, Landon right on my heels.