He surged to his feet, agitation tightening his muscles. Above them, owls roosting in the treetops took flight; his heightened Shadow vision made out their wings, stretched wide against the darkened sky. A shudder passed through him; the birds were psychopomps, bridges between the living and the dead. They were messengers of Veles, the trickster God of the Underworld who had come before even the Grigori or the Saints.
That was what the legends said, anyway. But as far as Niko was concerned, if such a god existed, he was worthless. Where had Veles been when Elena and Sammael were torturing him? Had his misery been no more than a joke, a diversion to pass the time?
Katerina stood, too, her hair sparking bright under the pitiless light of the false Bone Moon. “Answer me, Niko.” Her voice was steady, implacable. If he didn’t know her so well, he might miss the hurt that thrummed beneath its surface, the shine in her dark eyes.
“No,” he said at last, and forced himself to take her hands in his. The warmth of her skin was both pain and promise, his body aching for hers…as if the binding that had summoned him aboveground would remain incomplete until they joined themselves in every way. But that was absurd, wasn’t it? She was his Dimi and his lover, if she willed it so, not a repository for his basest desires. Because what if it was the Darkness in him that craved her so? Still?—
“Nothing could strip me of my faith in you,” he said, conviction echoing in every word. “Not a thousand demons, or a knife through the heart, or the Saints themselves. I am the one to blame here, Katya, don’t you understand? I am the unnatural one.” His voice broke, and he gripped her hands tighter, so tight he feared he might hurt her, but she gave no sign.
“I am an alpha without a pack,” he said, and the night fell silent around them, even the insects ceasing their calls, as if in recognition of his loss. “I am a Shadow without a home, banished like my father before me. You heard Baba; I am a nezhit, walking the road between worlds, of two souls and two hearts. I am Darkness and I am Light. I am cursed.”
A chill settled over him, penetrating his very bones, and as if in response, fire flared at Katerina’s fingertips. “No,” she said as the flames wove between their joined fingers like crimson and gold ribbons, binding them together. “You are mine.”
“I can bring you nothing but grief!”
The wind gusted, as if in punctuation. It bore the scent of the dying flames from the village, even at this distance, and Katerina inclined her head. “When you came to me by the ruined chapel,” she said, “you told me that the prophecy was about the two of us. The Dark will fall. The Shadow will rise. ‘I’ve risen. I’ll fight with you,’ you said.”
“And I have!” Frustration roughened his voice. “We saved Kalach. The two of us, fighting side by side.”
“And you think that was the fulfillment of the prophecy, then?” She drew him closer, and he came, helpless to resist her. “That was just a single battle. We are fighting a war. And I need you, Niko. All of you, not whatever you deem suitable to share with me. I love you.”
The first time she had said that to him, it had nearly shattered him into a thousand pieces. He remembered well what she had said next: I don’t know how to let you go. The two of them had never dreamed how that admission would be tested. And yet here they stood.
“I love you too,” he said, willing her to believe it. “Whatever I am now, with every piece of my broken heart and corrupted soul, I am yours. I will always belong to you.”
A smile broke across Katerina’s face, bright as the Light that encased their hands. “Then we’ll face whatever comes,” she vowed. “Together.”
He opened his mouth to object, and she stopped it with a kiss. Everything fell away the moment their lips touched: his fear and exhaustion, his doubts, his rage. There was only Katya, and the fire that spread outward from their hands, twining around their bodies, making of them a single, living flame. He burned against her, his hands going to her hips, lifting her so that her legs wrapped around him. A growl rose in his throat, and she moaned in response, nipping at him.
“Yes,” she whispered against his lips. “Niko, please…”
He knelt with her in his arms, laying her down in the fallen leaves of the rowan. The flames fell away, and his fingers shook as he unbuttoned her tunic, her breasts shining bare and silvered in the unforgiving moonlight. Her nipples furled into tight peaks, and he bent his head to them, taking first one and then the other in his mouth. Katerina gasped in pleasure, the sound that had haunted his dreams every night since the first time he’d heard it, and dug her fingernails into his shoulders. “Niko,” she said again, and this time it sounded like a prayer.
He shuddered against her, desperate, his cock hardening to the point of pain. He thought he’d known desire before, but this was different—a craving that crawled beneath his skin, a hunger that only she could satisfy. If the Darkness drove it, then so be it; right now, he couldn’t bring himself to care. All he wanted was her. And by some miracle, she wanted him, too. Maybe she could heal him. If anyone could do it, it was her.
Katerina arched against him, and he dug his fingers into the waistband of her gear and yanked it down, burying his face between her legs. Here, at last, was the heat he longed for, a fire that drove back the iciness that had taken up residence inside him. Lifting her hips, he speared her with his tongue, and she rode him, crying out as he slid deeper, her muscles tensing beneath his hands. She tasted like salt and want and rainfall, like Light and hope and home.
Yes. This, right here, was home. This was where he belonged. But it wasn’t enough—he needed?—
He sat back on his knees, chest heaving, and Katerina rose, sitting up so she could pull off his clothes. His cock sprang free, and she wrapped her hand around it, the contact sending a bolt of desire through him so intense, his head fell back. He thrust up into her grip, unable to help himself, and she gave the husky chuckle he’d missed so much.
“I’m right here,” she whispered, gripping him tighter. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His head came up and he met her eyes, looking at her full-on for what felt like the first time since he’d emerged in that demon-cursed clearing. She was so beautiful, with her red hair spilling everywhere and her gaze fixed on him. She was always so beautiful.
His chest so tight he could hardly breathe, he reached for her. Remember this is real, he told himself as he lifted her onto his lap, as he guided her on top of him and his cock brushed against her entrance. Stay here. Stay with her. Remember.
“Katya,” he said. It was all he could say, it seemed. “I—I need?—”
“Take it,” she said, her voice fierce. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
With one sharp thrust, he possessed her. He wasn’t sure if he’d thrust upward or she’d slid downward, taking him, but either way, he was sheathed inside her, and her walls were fluttering around him, clenching, and he was shaking in her arms, and?—
Ah, Saints. He wasn’t going to be able to make this last.
Katerina rose onto her knees, and the small movement almost undid him. “Slow,” he cautioned her, gripping her hips for good measure. She struggled to get free, teasing him, and he tightened his hold in warning. Her lips brushed his neck, the sensation sending a shiver through him as she twined her fingers in his hair, squirming against him.
“Please,” she begged, her witchfire stroking him, finding his Mark and setting it aflame.
