Nikolai sat alone in his tent. Blood still dripped from his split lip onto his hands. He didn't wipe it away.

The shouting outside had died down. But he could still hear the whispers. The angry voices talking about him.

"Coward."

"Traitor."

"He let them take our Queen."

Each word cut deeper than Dante's fists had. Because they were all true.

Nikolai closed his eyes. But that only made it worse. Because then he could see Laura's face. The way she'd looked at him when she realized he wasn't going to save her.

"You bastard. I trusted you."

Her words echoed in his head like a curse. Over and over...