She mumbles something soft and curls around her bunny.
I force myself to let go, heart pounding as I slip away. If there’s a chance to escape, I have to find it, and quickly. And then I’ll come back for my daughter.
I sneak around the corner of the building on the other side of the garden, and overhear a few quests who have stepped outside for a smoke.
“…she said it was quick,” one murmurs, rough with an accent I can’t place. “No one saw him after the first call.”
“It’s a pity he had to be killed that way. It was quick, yes, but messy too. His death couldn’t have been fun for him. You know what that kind of drug does to a person.”
“Doesn’t matter,” the other replies, low and certain. “Kirov’s death sent the right message. They’ll be too busy looking for the wrong suspect.”
My blood runs cold. I shrink closer to the hedge, my heart hammering so loud I’m sure they’ll hear it. I can’t see faces, but every word makes it clear—they’re talking about the man killed on the plane. That’s what Aleksander called that guy.
As the party guests wander back inside, I step back, and a twig snaps under my foot. I flinch, backing away, desperate to disappear.
I turn, trying to find my way back to Lily, but slam straight into something solid. Hands grip my upper arms, rough and sure, holding me in place.
My breath catches. I look up—and see Aleksander.
His eyes blaze in the half-light, cool and sharp and burning all at once. He looks like every nightmare and every fantasy tangled into one—bigger than I remembered, danger carved into every line of his body.
He leans in, voice barely above a growl. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I can’t move. Can’t breathe. His grip isn’t painful, but it’s absolute. I’m trapped, caged in his arms, heat flooding mycheeks. My mind is a mess—relief, fear, anger, want, all tangled together.
“I—” I try, but the words stick.
He steps closer, crowding me against the hedge, his presence swallowing the air between us. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”
There’s nowhere to go. His body boxes me in, his breath warm against my skin. The world shrinks to him—his hands, his scent, the force of him pressing me back until I’m sure my knees will give out.
“Let me go,” I whisper, but it sounds weak, unconvincing, even to my own ears.
He just smiles, slow and dangerous. “Not a chance, dorogaya.”
My pulse pounds everywhere. For a moment, all I can do is stare back, every part of me burning with panic and something I’m too ashamed to name.
He drops his head closer, voice lower now. “This time, you don’t get to disappear.”
16
ALEKSANDER
She hitsmy chest like a bird slamming into glass and for a second I think she’ll try to dart away again.
She doesn’t. She just freezes.
Her eyes are wide in the dark, lips parted, chest rising fast. I can feel her pulse under my fingers where I’m still holding her arms. She’s trembling, but she’s not weak. She’s coiled, like she might kick me and bolt if I slip up for even a second.
I drag her back, deeper into the trees, away from the light spilling from the house. My back hits the rough bark first, then I turn her, pinning her between me and the trunk so she’s facing me, nowhere to go.
“Running again,” I murmur. “You’re getting predictable, Bella.”
“Let me go,” she gasps. Her palms are flat against my chest now, not really pushing, more like she’s trying to hold me off and pull me closer at the same time.
“Not happening,” I say.
I shift my grip, my hands sliding from her arms to her waist, her hips. I shouldn’t touch her more. I know that. I came here to get her out, not to lose my head. But she’s warm and shaking and very, very real, and I haven’t stopped thinking about her in four years.
