I shook my head, unable to speak, my throat locked tight.
“Can I touch you?” Alek asked. I nodded in response, and he softened himself deliberately, reining in whatever violence had brought him through the door. His movements became careful, measured, as he reached forward, deliberate and unyielding, pulling my trembling body into his lap as if he could physically shield me from every invisible threat in the world.
I nuzzled my face into his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne. Alek’s chest was warm, his heartbeat slowing. His arms around me were firm, grounding me in his body, silently telling me he would never let me go, no matter how heavy I became.
“I thought something happened to you,” he murmured into my hair. “When you didn’t answer… I was so worried, baby.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, because everything was my fault. I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t perfect.
“You don’t have to be sorry, Eva. You don’t have to explain yourself. You don’t have to do anything but be here.”
I went still in his arms, my breath catching—not from fear this time, but from the sudden, overwhelming realization that no one had ever said that to me before. Not really.
I had spent my whole life performing existence correctly. Being good. Being manageable. Being quiet enough, strongenough, grateful enough to take up space, to one day earn my parents’ attention.
And here Alek was, holding me like I deserved all of it and more.
“I don’t know how to stop it,” I whispered after a long moment. My voice felt scraped raw, like it had clawed its way out of my chest. “My brain. It tells me things. Awful things. That I’m dangerous. That I ruin people. That everyone will one day leave me because they’ll realize that loving me is a mistake.”
His arms tightened around me, and I felt his heart thump against me. “Look at me,” Alek said.
I hesitated, then lifted my head. His face was close now, eyes dark and intent, but no longer wild. They were focused entirely on me.
His thumb brushed against my cheek, catching a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. The tender movement made something in my chest ache.
“I am not ruined. I am not frightened away. I am not leaving,” he whispered. “I never will, Eva. You are mine. Nothing can keep you from me. Not even you.”
The words hit me so hard my breath stuttered. I shook my head, tears blurring my vision. “You don’t understand. This doesn’t go away. It might get quieter sometimes, but it always comes back.”
“Then it will come back,” he said simply, his accent coating the edges of the words. “And I will still be here.”
There was no hesitation in his voice. No doubt.
Something in me gave way then—not fear, not panic, but a surrender so deep it felt like stepping off a ledge and discovering air could hold you.
“You will?” I breathed. “You won’t eventually hate me?”
“I don’t know how to hate you, solnyshka. I don’t think I ever could.” Alek paused before adding, “You think that this illnessmakes you a monster. But I am arealmonster, baby. And my demons will not stop until yours are driven away.”
He leaned in slowly, giving me time to pull away.
I didn’t.
His lips brushed against mine before they pressed into me. The kiss wasn’t demanding or hungry, but soft. Tender. One that felt like a promise instead of a claim. A gentle undoing of all the knots inside of me, one by one, until every thread wrapped around my heart and tethered me to him. I was no longer hollow but full. So full of warm and fuzzy emotions, all aimed directly at the man taking my breath away.
I realized, then, why every great love story always revolved around a true love’s kiss. Because the things I was feeling for him were worth fighting villains, succumbing to spells, eating poisonous apples, and sacrificing everything.
I melted into him, my hands coming up to clutch at his coat while he held my cheeks steady. Alek’s tongue pressed into me before he groaned in the back of his throat. He tasted like mint and vodka and darkness, but also like daydreams and happy endings. He tasted like he wasmine.
I knew then with quiet certainty: I was falling for Aleksandr Drakov. Or maybe I had fallen already.
Maybe I was too far gone.
When he pulled back, he stayed close, his breath warm against my lips.
“Alek,” I said softly, my voice trembling.
“Yes.”
