He would be her undoing, and she welcomed the fall.
She shuddered with anticipation, digging her nails into his shoulders, and he gave another low growl against her neck.
“In my dreams, you are still mine,” he whispered as the moon slid from behind the clouds. “In my dreams, I can have you the way I want, shades and demons be damned.”
Katerina froze. From this vantage point, with the moon shining down upon them in its unnatural fullness, she could see his face clearly for the first time since she’d waded into the lake. His eyes were open, true—but they were wide and blank, unseeing.
He was sleepwalking. Dreamwalking.
And she’d taken advantage of him.
Horrified, Katerina wriggled free of his grasp. He gave a protesting grumble, trying to hold her, and she sent a rush of heat over her skin, making the water sizzle everywhere they touched. With a hiss, Niko drew back, letting her go. Her core ached, empty and craving him, as her feet touched the soft sand of the lake’s bottom once more.
“Katya.” He reached for her, but she stepped away.
“Wake up,” she said sharply. “Niko. Wake up.”
Her Shadow blinked at her, once, twice, then again. On the fourth try, awareness flooded his eyes. He looked left, then right, then, absurdly, up, as if he imagined the answer to their circumstances lay in the firmament above.
“What are we doing in the water?” he said at last, his voice hoarse. His gaze tracked downward, then focused, narrow and alarmed, on her face. “And why are we naked?”
Oh, by the Saints. Katerina could not imagine this was going to go well.
“I went for a walk,” she said, careful to omit any mention of the shrine, the Fates, or her newfound suspicion. “On my way back, I came upon you, standing in the lake. I was worried about you, so I waded out to meet you. And then we—well, we…”
Her voice trailed off, unsure how to phrase what had happened in a fashion that wouldn’t send Niko off the deep end—in this case, perhaps quite literally. But her Shadow was no fool. He glanced down at his still-enthusiastic anatomy, then at Katerina’s kiss-swollen lips and the marks that his stubble had left behind on her skin, and recoiled.
“Gods, Katya.” He swiped a lake-wet hand across his mouth, as if to erase the taste of her kisses. “What did I do?”
She kept her voice low, soothing. “Nothing I didn’t want you to. And we stopped, Niko. I woke you up before things went too far.”
The relief that washed over his face broke her heart all over again. He cleared his throat, his expression stricken, and she hurried onward before he could blame himself. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. If I’d realized you were asleep, I never would have taken advantage of you like that. I’m truly sorry, Niko.”
“You’re sorry?” His voice cracked, and he stumbled backward, into deeper water. “I could have—gods, I could have…” It was his turn for his voice to trail off, as if he couldn’t bear to give voice to all the terrible scenes that were playing out inside his head.
His gaze raked over all the parts of her he could see—face, breasts, belly—without the slightest hint of lasciviousness. It was the way he looked at her after a battle, making sure she’d emerged unharmed from whatever sinister forces had mustered against them. “Thank the Saints you’re all right,” he said at last. “No thanks to me.”
The self-hatred in his voice tore at Katerina. “What happened?” she asked, in a not-so-subtle change of subject. Arguing with Niko about this particular topic was likely to have as much effect as debating the merits of evil-doing with a demon. “How did you end up here?”
“I thought I was dreaming.” His voice came heavy and rough, barely audible over the lap of water against the shore. “I took first watch, but somehow I must have drifted off. I woke up and found myself here. Sh—” He swallowed hard, his throat working. “Someone was calling me.”
“Calling you to walk into the lake?” Katerina forced levity into her tone, though she felt anything but amused. “Did you fancy a midnight rendezvous with the Vodianyye?”
The look he leveled her with then, blending horror and shame in equal measure, froze her blood in her veins. It was Elena who’d summoned him; she’d bet her magic on it. Somehow, the Vila had reached out from her gilded prison in the Underworld and called to Niko, beyond the realm of his dreams. Had she intended to drown him, in the hopes that in death, he’d find his way back to her ahead of schedule? Was she trying, even now, to break their deal?
Beneath the water, Katerina’s hands balled into fists. “I’ll kill her,” she vowed. “I’ll find a way to drag her aboveground, and I’ll burn her alive. This time, she won’t escape the Void.”
A sad smile lifted Niko’s lips. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather she stay in Hell with her demon king, where she belongs. And that you stay far away from her.”
Rage rippled through Katerina’s body, the leaves of the oaks that overhung the lake stirring with the force of it. What if she hadn’t come upon Niko standing here? What had he seen, in his mind’s eye? What might he have done?
“You said you were dreaming,” she said, slow and careful. “Were you dreaming of me?”
Her Shadow’s gaze flicked to the rustling leaves, to the flat rock that rose above the waterline, to the clouds that scudded across the darkened sky. Anywhere but at her face.
“Niko?” she prompted, a shiver of unease seizing her.
“We should get out of the water. You’re cold.” His gaze dropped to the gooseflesh that had broken out on her arms, then away, as if he had no right to the sight of her naked body.
