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I tightened my hold. Anger pulsed through her frame in waves. “You won’t, princess. We love you. All of us do. I know there is no way in hell Mischa holds you responsible.”

She pushed against me again, not enough to break free, just enough to show she didn’t want to hear that. I adjusted my hold, refusing to let her retreat.

“Stop fighting me, please.” I drew back to look into her eyes. “I’m not trying to convince you otherwise, but the reality of that night is clouded for you. It’ll always be that way and that’s okay.”

The desire to believe me, to rest in my acceptance, shone in her eyes. It was gut-wrenching.

“Everything you feel is valid.”

“But it doesn’t change anything. Maybe nothing ever will. I’m afraid, Pasha.”

“I know you are. Probably for a hundred and one different reasons.”

She huffed. “Try a thousand and one.”

A breath of something lighter slipped out of me, the corner of my mouth lifting when it pulled a faint smile from her.

“Share one of them with me,” I said, easing the hold.

Maybe if we broke them down—piece by piece—it wouldn’t crush her all at once. “It can be small, we don’t have to tackle them all.”

“Okay,” she whispered before taking a big breath. “What if going doesn’t change how broken I feel?”

I didn’t answer immediately. The instinct to reassure her—to tell her it would help, that it would be worth it, and that she wouldn’t feel this way forever—rose fast. But that was a reality I couldn’t promise and deliver on.

Not without lying. And she deserved better than that.

“That’s an actual possibility. Regardless, though, you’re not alone. The depth of your strength and courage to confront all the darkness that lurks there speaks volumes. The fact that you even want to is remarkable.”

In her eyes, I could see her weighing the truth of my statement.

Then with a smirk that instantly had my heart feeling lighter, she spoke. “I doubt that. More like stupid.”

The shift in her was small, but welcomed.

“I don’t see it that way at all. While I can’t testify to Winter’s character, I can say with certainty, given the opportunity, Mischa would never step foot in the same state as that castle.”

“Would you blame her?”

“Hell no,” I said, adjusting my hold again as the wind picked up around us. It tugged at her hair, and I brushed it back this time, letting my fingers linger.

“But I wasn’t finished. Tori lived in hell, so I don’t see her clambering for a chance. You’ve already stated that your experience was not the same. Maybe that makes the difference here.”

I pressed a soft kiss on the top of her head and then tilted her head back to gaze down at her. There was a flicker of resilience in her eyes. A determination woven through exhaustion.

There was also that lovely Caruso stubbornness that refused to be buried no matter what she endured. It set her apart from her Season Sisters. And as much as I admired it, it scared the hell out of me.

“Will you help me carry this?” she asked.

“I’d be honored. You’ve had so much heartache and pain in your life. If there is any way I can alleviate it, I will.”

I drew in a breath, the rest of what I wanted to say pushed forward before I could second guess it.

“I need to tell you something. I’ve spent my entire adult life thinking I knew what love was. What it felt like, deep inside. The last few days with you, I realized I know nothing. You’ve burrowed your way into my soul, revealed a hunger I never knew existed. I want to love you, for now and for always. I want to be the one you turn to when it’s too much.”

Her composure gave way completely. She broke apart in my arms. Standing in the warmth of the fading afternoon sun, I vowed that I’d do anything for this woman. I’d be whatever she needed me to be. I’d go wherever she wanted me to.

Her asking me to stand beside her was momentous. My hand moved slowly along her back as I softly soothed her with words spoken in Russian. I knew she didn’t understand, but she understood the tone. I pressed more kisses along her temple and waited for her pain to run its course.