Second Assault — Bond And Treason —

Friday, April 5th. Yaakov's room, 3:25 a.m.

ALEXEI

—Xander!

I wake up with a jump, drenched in sweat, struggling to fill my lungs with air and screaming his name once again. Three days now... Three bloody, torturous days without him and still not have the answers I need to go after my partner.

I'm losing my mind, I'm on the cusp of despair and on the verge of just going out, organizing a team of men and starting a fucking war against anyone if that means I can get him back in my arms. And the dreams... The helplessness of having him so far away yet so close. To hear his soft, sweet voice, to feel his fear, and his doubts pass through me and not be able to do a fucking thing to help him.

Although, I am sure they are not just dreams, it is something else, something that connects us so intimately and deeply, just the two of us. It immerses us in the emotions and the strong and special bond we have created through our love.

«I can feel you».

He said to me then, the relief and hope in his voice still haunts me, threatening to crush the integrity of my heart. How I wish I could be there with him, facing the storm that is sure to come. To be his base and his pillar so that his strength is not broken and his will impels him to continue.

I see

little body looked in that huge, dark forest, how sad

it all. Absolutely all of his emotions ran through my soul and tore my heart

that I almost went insane. I

thoughts and the idea of Xander suffering without me, that

without him. Pathetic, I know, but I refuse to pretend everything's okay when in fact, I feel like my world is falling

emotions all the time and pretending to be something I'm fucking not. The comfort of having Yaakov's support at this time, who is

passes me a glass of water. I take it as fast as I can and just nod, while slowly my

the full knowledge that Xander is all right — I replied angrily, leaving the empty glass on the table at the side of the bed —.

you mean?—

— I get out of bed, take off my sweaty shirt, staying only in my sweatpants, and walk around the room —. It's strange, but every time it happens, it's like I can feel what he feels— I gesture with my hands as I explain, pointing to my chest, wishing

he suggests with genuine interest, settling down on

know he's okay,

look at him and