“Babushka, Pyotr used to hurt me,” I say. “He hit me sometimes—often—if I did something to make him angry. And a few times, after one of his late nights drinking, he would…”
I can’t bring myself to say it. The pain and mortification are too much, but I need her to understand so she won’t blame Miko.
“Miko and I were… being intimate,” I explain delicately. “And right in the middle of it, I envisioned Pyotr.” Shaking my head, I bury my face in the soft fabric of her gown. “I panicked and just… ran. Miko didn’t do anything to hurt me, but Pyotr did.”
Silence settles heavily between us once again, but Svetlana’s gentle touch never falters.
“I’m so sorry,vnuchenka. I should have known,” she murmurs finally, her voice dangerously frail.
“How could you have?” I ask. “I never told anyone about Pyotr’s abuse.” Not until the night I told Miko. But confessing it to Svetlana feels like a massive weight off my heart.
Turning my head to look back at Svetlana, I’m shocked to find her expression sad.
“I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad,” she says. “I’ve known for long a long time that all Novikov men are born with a poison in their blood.” She tsks, the sound both sorrowful and heartbreaking as she slowly shakes her head. “It makes them hurt the ones they love, and they’re helpless to stop it. But I was never sure about Pyotr. He could be such a charmer, that one.”
I nod, a fresh tear escaping my eye to roll down my temple. “He was good at hiding it. And I always tried to cover the bruises with clothes or makeup. I was so ashamed because I was sure it was my fault.”
“No, Anika,” Svetlana says firmly. “The devils inside the Novikov men are something far too powerful for anyone like you or I to overcome—or even sway. I’m proud of you for being strong enough to survive it.”
Warm gratitude floods my chest, and I sit up to give Svetlana a proper hug. “I’m so grateful for you,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
She gives a warbling chuckle, her hand patting me affectionately on the back. “I’m here whenever you need me. Any time at all.”
“Thank you,” I say again, meeting her eyes with a smile. “I can go back to my room and let you get some sleep,” I offer.
I think I’ve calmed down enough to have my emotions under control, and now that I’ve had a chance to clear my head, I should really make things right with Miko.
But Svetlana shakes her head. “You stay here for the night and give your mind time to rest and recover. You’ve clearly been through a trauma and shouldn’t be going right back to the place where it happened.”
“But Miko—” I object, but Svetlana holds up a silencing hand.
“You two can patch things up in the morning,” she assures me. “Now, do an old lady a favor, and fetch me an extra blanket.”
27
MIKO
I can’t guess how long I’ve stared up at the ceiling of our room.
All I know is that I haven’t slept a wink by the time the first hints of sunlight start to creep through the window.
I’ve spent the entire night alone, plagued by thoughts of what I did, confident that Anika will never forgive me.
I put a guard on the old woman’s door—mostly to make sure Anika wouldn’t try to run away in the middle of the night.
But if she wants to leave me now, I don’t know that I have the heart to stop her.
I’m clearly not helping her heal, so maybe it’s the best thing for her.
I should have let her leave from the start, when she asked to go. I see that now.
I was selfish and overconfident in my certainty that only I could protect her.
It might have been the easy option—but it wasn’t the only one.
My heart wrenches to think of how else I might keep her safe. But I need to have an answer, one I’m sure will be good enough to protect her in my absence.
I close my eyes, that familiar feeling of having my guts ripped from my body overwhelming me once more—like Prometheus, who was cursed to have his liver eaten on repeat by an eagle as his punishment for daring to take fire from the gods.
