Anastasia watched in horror as the color started to drain from Mikhail’s face. His breathing got shallower as his hands clutched at his stomach, letting out a low grunting noise.
“Mikhail?!” Anastasia stood up and ran to him, her arms guiding him to take her place on the couch. He sat down with a massive moan of pain. His face was turning red, and sweat was gathering on his brow.
“Anya…,” his voice sounded parched. “The ball…”
Anastasia gasped as her hands covered her mouth, realization dawning on her. Poison was a favorite of the court, a close second to political hangings.
“What do I do?! What should I do?” She dropped to her knees as her hands went to Mikhail’s face, holding his head up and wiping at the sweat on his brow.
“Anya…” His voice croaked again as he leaned into her touch. Mikhail’s eyes started to flutter closed, his breath slowing down until she could barely see any movement in his chest.
“NO!” Anastasia screamed, letting go of his head. “No, no, no…” She began beating on his chest with her fists as he took one last shuddered breath and his eyes shut.
At that moment, Anastasia could see nothing but Mikhail, ignoring the sound of her cries or the tears that were making it hard to see.
She wiped at them angrily and sent her fists crashing down on his shirt, the gems sewn into her sleeves snagging on the threads on his shirt.
“Don’tleaveme!” Anastasia wept, her scream a haunted, broken sound. “I don’t know how to do this without you, Mikhail!” She dropped her head on his chest, her hands going to the golden cuffs on his arms and ripping them off, unable to stare at the double-headed eagle. “I don’twantto do it without you… howdareyou leave, too!” She screamed, throwing her body over his as golden light flooded her fingertips.
It exploded out of her as potent as she had ever seen it; all of the lights exploded in the room as the fireplace leaped even higher. The flames threatened to spill out of the brick and up the walls.
Anastasia’s magic poured out of her and covered Mikhail’s body as she watched from the floor next to him, shocked. It circled him once, twice… wrapping around his stomach. It undulated over him, and suddenly, Mikhail seemed to come back to life with a massive grunt.
His body twitched as he came up to a half-sitting position before falling backward again, heavy breaths shaking his chest. There was sweat beading on his forehead, and his fancy clothes were almost soaked through.
“Mikhail?” Anastasia gasped, her face pale as her hands went to cover her face. She held her breath, afraid to believe for even a moment that he was alive. She was nervous to touch him or look at him for too long.
Mikhail sat up once more and began blinking, his breath beginning to even out only slightly. He leaned over the side of the couch and began dry-heaving.
As soon as it subsided, he had sat up and rested back against the chair, and she jumped up on the couch next to him.
Anastasia sat in between his legs, still wiping at her tears, and grabbed his arms. Without thinking, she began to rub the back of his hand.
“Oh my God,” she gasped, her chest heaving with the remnants of her sobs. The anger between them had dissipated entirely.
Mikhail’s face was pale as he stared up at her, while they both tried to understand what exactly had happened. Anastasia’s magic had neverquitemanifested in that way before. Neither of them paid any attention to the intimacy ebbing between them.
“Well,” Mikhail leaned back against the couch with a thud, struggling to recover his breath. “It seems that you can save a life, Anastasia.”
15
Anastasia collapsed against Mikhail, weeping quietly with a sense of relief that she’d never felt before.
Without thinking, both of them fell into an easy embrace that was too comfortable for either of them to accept.
Mikhail’s hand came up and cradled the back of her head, waiting a few moments to catch his breath. Neither of them said anything.
They were terrified that words would shatter the illusion hanging between them that they had found sanctuary in one another’s arms, that it would only take one misspoken sentiment for them to back at each other's throat.
Mikhail struggled to keep his thoughts straight. He couldn’t deny the instincts that threatened to overtake him and keep Anastasia pressed against him forever. He wanted to destroy her family and anyone who had ever made her feel like she was lesser than or had tried to diminish her power.
At the same time, he still battled moving on from the past and letting go of the hatred he had nurtured for so long. He knew that she needed to accept her gifts and abandon the cage she had been raised in to get over her past.
Until they both did that, he knew that they’d continue to tear each other apart. How could he think of anything other than keeping her in his arms when he had tasted death, and it was her magic that breathed him back to life?
It had felt like her; it was unmistakablyAnastasiawhen the magic had gripped him like a lifeline. He always wanted that essence to consume him.
Anastasia sniffled and shifted on top of him, her hand coming up to caress his cheek. Mikhail let out a deep sigh and felt his heart clench. He knew he had to stop them before they went somewhere they couldn’t return from.
