Anastasia let out a noise that sounded foreign to her as she felt Mikhail’s large hand moving up her side. He cupped the side of her breast, and Anastasia tossed her head back, giving Mikhail access to her neck.
Her breath hitched as he moved down, placing kisses along her jaw and neck. She tugged on his shirt, desperate to get it off of him as he moved back up to capture her mouth with his.
His hand moved again and gave her breast a firm squeeze, sending shockwaves through Anastasia — which sent Mikhail flying off her.
The moment was shattered, Anastasia’s magic exploding out of her in response and leaving her wanton and breathless on the chair. She stared wide-eyed at Mikhail, now kneeling at her feet.
Both of them sat there for a moment, once again on a precipice where they had no idea what to do with their reactions to one another. Mikhail broke out into laughter.
“That was one way to get you to use your magic. I was right.”
“Right about what?” Anastasia snapped, sitting up straighter and attempting to straighten her skirts.
“You have no idea how toreleaseyour magic,” his voice was dripping with innuendo that made Anastasia feel light-headed all over again.
“I have my magic, though,” she offered a lame rebuttal.
“You have uncontrolled magic that is released by… extreme emotion,” Mikhail chuckled and stood, running his hand over the stubble on his jaw. He sat down quickly again, and Anastasia rolled her eyes at his feeble attempt to hide his hard-on.
“Hatred is still a very extreme emotion, Mikhail.”
Mikhail grinned, tossing a hand behind his head in a picture of male arrogance that made Anastasia want to hit him and beg him to climb on top of her again.
“Hate me all you’d like,Your Grace,”he licked his lips, “It seems I’ll get what I want either way.”
“And what is that, Mikhail?”
“I want your magic to burn this palace to the ground.”
11
“Hold it, hold it…,” Mikhail’s voice was steady as he watched Anastasia grow a sphere of light between her fingers. He stood behind her, keeping a safe distance between them. It had been a few weeks since their explosive first attempt at uncovering Anastasia’s magic.
“Gav-no,” Anastasia hissed, the light between her hands expanding in a great burst and showering them both in sparks.
“It’s okay,” Mikhail nodded. “You’ll get there.”
“When?!” Anastasia hissed, turning around and staring up at him. He couldn’t help but suppress a grin. He loved it when she got flustered.
As much as he enjoyed their repartee these past few weeks, neither of them could get comfortable with one another. They fought like cats and dogs one minute and had to force themselves to their separate bedrooms the next.
“When it happens,” Mikhail shrugged easily, the picture of nonchalance as if the world wasn’t threatening to fall around them.
Amidst their uneasy truce, the political restlessness in the Winter Palace had been growing and hurtling towards a fever pitch.
The divide between the serfs and the boyars was at an all-time high, and the rolling religious fervor with it. People of all backgrounds flocked to the Orthodox Church to find reprieve from what ailed them.
A rise in witch-hunts and acolyte trials filled the streets, with the Tsar publicly executing more “false idols” every day in political theatre.
The Tsar and Tsarina continually pestered Mikhail for updates on Anastasia’s magic, eager to begin utilizing her as a pawn in their games amongst the turmoil. Every day, they summoned Anastasia and Mikhail to show off Anastasia’s gifts, and every day, the two refused.
Mikhail always managed to tell them that she wasn’t ready; the excuse that her gifts were still a danger to others — even just to show her parents — worked. Both of them knew their time would run out.
Anastasia had grown increasingly anxious about her parents executingheras a testament to their dedication to the Orthodox cause if she couldn’t produce results. It was something that drove the two of them to arguments at every turn.
Anastasia was ready to run, and Mikhail insisted that she could bring about real change if she justtried.
“When I finally gain control of my powers,” Anastasia scoffed, waving him off and sitting down to lunch. Mikhail had insisted that Anastasia be fed properly. “You’re learning,” he nodded, sitting down opposite her. “You already know how to use it. You just don’t know your limitations.”
