Page 42 of Veiled Yearning

“I have my own ghosts from my past.” His words come slowly, and he hesitates before continuing. “I’m guilty of letting those ghosts affect me for many years. Hundreds, really.”

I want to give him support but not interrupt him, so I press even closer to Gavril, notching my head under his chin.

His arm tightens around me, and he kisses my head softly again. With a heavy sigh, he says, “It was in seventeen eighty-two. That’s when it all started to go wrong.” His throat bobs against my cheek. “I was a student at the University in Saint Petersburg, studying philosophy. I had plans to teach there as soon as I could. I loved learning, teaching, and I had dreams of becoming a true scholar.”

There’s a wistful note to his voice that hurts my heart. And I’m afraid to hear what destroyed Gavril’s dream.

“We met through our families,” he continues. “Anastasia. She—well, her family—was extremely wealthy. I didn’t care for her, but she set her sights on me. She wanted me to marry her, and her family pressed mine to make a match. But I refused, and my parents backed me on it, which was unusual back then. I think they sensed something about her. Something bad.”

Gavril’s hand stills on my arm, and he stiffens, surrendering to his memories. “I turned Anastasia down, and I thought that was the end of it. Until the night she followed me. She was in her carriage, and she begged me to talk. I didn’t want to, but it was the gentlemanly thing to do.”

His jaw clenches. “She knocked me out. I could never have expected. Me, and this tiny woman… but she was a vampire. Obviously, I had no idea.”

“Gav…”

“When I woke up at her estate, restrained, captive, she informed me of her plans. She would have me, willingly, or otherwise. And she did. I was only human, even strong like I was, and no match for a vampire.”

“She turned me, but not only that, Anastasia wanted to make sure I wouldn’t go back to my family.” Anger roughens his voice. “So, while I was in transition, she snuck over to my family’s home and killed them. All of them. My parents, my sisters, the servants. And then she made it look like I’d done it. So I could never go back.”

White-hot rage rushes through me, and I bite out, “Is she still alive?”

“No.” It’s spoken with grim satisfaction. “She thought she’d be more powerful, able to control me, given she was so much older than me. But Anastasia wasn’t prepared for my strength, or my anger. Was it wrong to kill a woman? Maybe. But I’d do it again.”

“It wasn’t wrong,” I reassure him, rubbing my hand up and down his back this time. “She deserved more than death.”

My chest feels carved out, aching for Gavril’s loss. And just sitting beside him isn’t enough. I need to hug him, really hug him, give Gavril some measure of the comfort he’s given me.

So I climb on top of him, looping my arms around his neck, brushing soft kisses along his jaw. I whisper I’m sorry over and over while I squeeze him hard, wishing there was a way I could get even closer.

His arms tighten around me, and he murmurs, “I’ve never told anyone that story. Not even Frederick.”

Oh. My heart.

After a minute, or an hour of sitting wrapped up together, Gavril continues. “I had to flee my country. So I left Russia and started traveling through Europe. It was there that I discovered my visions. They were… confusing. Disturbing. I was… lost. Angry. And then Larkin sensed me. He brought me into the Sentinels, and it gave me purpose. I met Frederick, and I found a way to use my visions for something good.”

It all makes sense, now. The bond with Larkin. Frederick. The absolute dedication to the group that saved him.

“I’ve lived for the Sentinels ever since then.” Gavril lifts his head and gazes down at me, a depth of emotion within. “I avoided relationships with women, because I told myself I couldn’t trust them. I thought what I had was enough.”

My heart leaps into my throat. “And now?”

“Now?” He lifts his hand to cup my cheek. “I don’t know what to think. But I know I’ve never felt like this with anyone before.”

“Me neither.” It’s a breathless whisper. “It scares me.”

“Ah, Chiara.” This time, he kisses my forehead, soft and tender, with just a hint of roughness from his stubble as it brushes my skin. “Me too.”

15

Now I Understand

GAVRIL

“Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”

I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve asked Chiara the same question over the last two days, ever since she decided to test her ability. And each time, she gives me some variation of the same answer: No. She’s not changing her mind. She won’t try it on one of us, only a Custodian. It’s not negotiable.

By now, I should know it’s an exercise in futility.

---