The touch undid him. He arched upward, into her, losing all control, and she met him thrust for thrust. There was no tenderness in their reunion, just hunger and desperation as she began to tremble all around him, as her head fell back and she cried his name to the stars.
He held on as she dug her nails into his back, marking him, the small pain an anchor in an ocean of pleasure. And then she was kissing him, moving against him faster and faster, and his release was rushing up, seizing him, and he was the one crying out, ecstasy rising and falling and cresting again?—
He lost himself in her, shuddering, her breath warm against his skin and her hair everywhere, the heat of her body clutching him as she fell over the edge again. He murmured her name, his eyes dropping to the place where they were joined, to prove to himself this was real.
And then he froze.
Shadows streamed from his fingertips, tendrils of midnight-black Darkness. As if acting of their own volition, they curled around Katerina’s hips, lifting her so that she rose and fell along his length, rocking her body against his, giving him the friction he craved as he rode out his release. She moaned, arching in his arms, as if she couldn’t tell the difference between Niko’s own touch and that of the shades.
He sucked in a harsh breath, then another, horror coursing through his veins. “No,” he said—to Katerina, to himself, to the night itself. “No.”
Above him, Katerina went still. “Niko?”
“Look,” he said, his voice tight. “Look, and tell me I’m not a monster now.”
He knew the moment she saw the shades. She stiffened, and along their bond, he felt her magic rise, as if in protest. She was disgusted by him. Horrified. Afraid.
Moving with the speed he usually reserved for battle, he lifted her off him and turned away, shaking all over. The shades were gone, vanished back to wherever they’d come from. But they were inside him—they were lurking?—
You are nothing but what I made of you.
His hands lifted to his ears, trying to shut out her voice. But it was inside his head and it was screaming and he couldn’t make it stop?—
He fell to his knees in the leaves, dimly aware that Katerina was kneeling beside him, her arms wrapped around him, begging him to look at her. But he couldn’t. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to face her again.
He had touched his Dimi with the Darkness. He had let it lick along her skin.
You can run from me, that implacable voice hissed. You can hide aboveground and pretend you are something other than my pet, the black dog I bent to my will. But you are fooling yourself if you think Katerina will want a debased creature such as you. She will cast you aside now that she’s seen what you’re capable of, and you will be alone, you will be wandering, you will be a lost soul until I welcome you into my arms again…
“Stop!” The word tore from his throat. “Shut up, stop talking, get out of my head?—”
Katerina’s arms withdrew, and a fresh wave of coldness washed over him. See, she doesn’t want you, she’s leaving, of course she is, the voice sneered. You belong with me?—
Soft fabric came around his body then; his shirt, his pants. Katerina was dressing him, giving him a barrier between himself and the world. When she finished, she eased him down onto his side in the leaves and curled behind him, wrapping her arms tight around him once more. Her lips against his nape, she murmured soothing words, all the while sending a steady stream of comfort down their bond. “I’m here,” she said, again and again. “I have you. And if you are a monster, then so am I, and I will not let you go.”
At long last, the voice inside his head quieted and his hands fell away from his ears. Around them, the night came alive once more: a hooting owl, a calling wolf, the rustle of the oaks and rowans in the wind. He drew one deep breath, then another, knowing he should break Katerina’s hold lest he hurt her, wanting more than anything to stay.
In the end, he turned in the circle of her arms and wrapped his own around her, wordless, holding her tight. The last thing he felt before he slipped down into the cold, dark well of sleep were his Dimi’s tears on his skin, staining him, washing him clean.
Chapter Seven
ELENA
You are nothing but what I made of you.
Elena Lisova had whispered those words in her Shadow’s ear, her breath caressing his skin as he knelt before her. She had hissed it at him as he refused to profess his love for her, and shrieked it at him as he turned his head away from her kiss. It was no more than the truth; after all, without her, he would have died in the elderflower clearing. He owed his life to her, but did he appreciate all she had sacrificed for him? Of course, he did not.
It was his fault that she was chained to the Underworld this way, unable to rise aboveground and claim the glory that was her due. Had he not been weak enough to fall victim to Katerina’s wiles, Elena would never have fled to the ruined chapel and met Sammael, never let the demon into her body and her heart. She would never have been disgraced at the altar, humiliated in her marriage bed, and then claimed by the Darkness itself. She had done all this for Niko Alekhin, and yet when Katerina had appeared within the walls of Elena’s sanctuary, he had chosen the arrogant, corrupt Dimi over the Vila who had given up everything for him.
He was ungrateful, and yet he still laid claim to her heart. And she would have him back again, for he was hers, and Elena-of-the-Void kowtowed to no one.
Clad in her now-dingy wedding white, she reclined on the bed where she had commanded her Shadow’s reluctant affection before Katerina had stolen him away. Sammael had pleaded with her to change her clothes, even presenting her with an elegant dress woven from cornflower petals. “The color of your eyes,” he’d said, giving her a hopeful smile, but Elena had tossed the thing into the hearth and watched it burn.
She had vowed to wear her wedding dress until Niko Alekhin became hers in truth, in deed as well as word. For he would return to her six months hence, and they would be married once again, a Dark Vila and her bonded Shadow. And this time, she would be no demure maiden, pleading with him to unhook her dress and grace her with a mere kiss. This time, he would do as she demanded, and she would brook no refusal.
She was alone in the cottage; Sammael had stepped out, claiming he needed to take care of some boring administrative task. Elena was beginning to suspect he could no longer stand the sight of her—Sammael, who had once worshipped her, who had claimed she was as vibrant as the setting sun. Well, that was his insufficiency. She shone like a dark star now, resplendent in her beauty. She belonged to the Darkness, and it to her; she wielded its might. Once, she had viewed it with such abhorrence. Now, she saw it was merely the other side of the Light—just as powerful, just as necessary, like the balance between night and day—and had no idea why she had feared it so.
Still, she didn’t appreciate being forced into this position against her will. But she was nothing if resourceful. And now, as Niko cavorted aboveground with Katerina, she would find a way to reach him, for he had sworn his life to her in front of their village. And above all else, he was a man of honor.
