I love her. Completely. Irrevocably. In a way that terrifies me because it makes me vulnerable in ways I've never been before.
I love Alina Morozov. And tomorrow, I'll face down the ghost from my past to protect her.
Because that's what you do when you love someone.
You fight for them. You kill for them. You'd burn the entire world to ash to keep them safe.
And God help anyone who tries to take her from me.
37
ALINA
Iwake with nausea rolling through my stomach like a wave crashing against rocks. The sensation is immediate and overwhelming, giving me barely enough time to throw back the covers and stumble toward the bathroom.
I make it to the toilet just in time, my body heaving as I empty what little is in my stomach. My hands grip the cool porcelain, and I squeeze my eyes shut against the spinning room. This is the third morning in a row.
When the nausea finally subsides, I sit back on my heels and wipe my mouth with shaking hands. My breasts ache beneath the thin nightgown, tender in a way that has nothing to do with Dimitri's touch. My period is late, though with everything that's happened, I'd convinced myself it was just stress.
But three mornings of vomiting?
I stand on unsteady legs and move to the sink, splashing cold water on my face. My reflection stares back at me, pale and hollow-eyed. I look like I've aged years in the past few weeks, but there's something else too. A soft glow to my skin.
I reach under the sink, my fingers finding the pregnancy test I hid there three days ago. I'd bought it on impulse during a trip to the pharmacy with one of Dimitri's guards, tucking it into my purse before anyone could see. I've been too afraid to use it, too afraid of what it might confirm.
But I can't ignore it anymore.
My hands shake as I open the box and read the instructions, even though I already know what to do. The test is simple. Pee on the stick, wait three minutes, and my entire life changes one way or another.
I take the test and set it on the counter, then wash my hands and stare at my reflection while I wait. The seconds tick by with agonizing slowness. I think about Dimitri, about the meeting with Mikhail that's coming, about all the violence and chaos that's consumed our lives since that burning church.
Is this really the world I want to bring a child into?
But even as the thought forms, I know the answer. Yes. Because this child would be ours. Mine and Dimitri's. A symbol of something beautiful born from all this darkness.
Three minutes pass.
I pick up the test with trembling fingers and look at the result window.
Two pink lines. Clear and unmistakable.
Positive.
I'm pregnant.
The test slips from my fingers and clatters into the sink. I grip the counter's edge, my knees suddenly weak. A baby. I'm going to have a baby. Dimitri's baby.
Joy and terror war inside my chest in equal measure. I press a hand to my still-flat stomach, trying to imagine the tiny life growing there. Our child. The thought fills me with a fierce protectiveness I've never felt before.
But then reality crashes in. We're about to meet with Mikhail, a man who wants to destroy everything Dimitri has built. A man who's orchestrated massacres and frame jobs. A man who won't hesitate to use this pregnancy against us if he finds out.
I can't tell Dimitri. Not yet. Not before the meeting. He's already worried enough about my safety without adding this to his concerns.
I hide the test at the bottom of the bathroom trash, covering it with tissues, then brush my teeth and splash more water on my face. When I return to the bedroom, Dimitri is awake, propped up on one elbow and watching me with concerned eyes.
"You okay?" His voice is rough with sleep, his dark hair mussed in a way that makes my heart clench.
I nod. “Just a bit tired.”
