Page 194 of The Harbinger

Sachastoodinfrontof me, his charcoal suit cut sharp as a razor, the fabric gleaming like freshly polished glass.

He adjusted his cufflinks with the precision of a surgeon, his piercing gaze scanning my exhausted face. I’d been locked away for what felt like an eternity, my mind slowly succumbing to the relentless barrage of cabin fever.

Sacha’s absence had only amplified my restlessness. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy as I watched him prepare for another day in the office, where the world was still spinning, the gears of society turning as if nothing had changed.

Meanwhile, I was trapped in this stifling room, the walls closing around me with every passing moment. The isolation was a breeding ground for the kind of madness that lurked in the shadows of the mind, waiting to pounce at the first sign of weakness.

“Please, just for today,” I whimpered. “I need fresh air.”

My knees sunk into the end of the mattress as he cupped my face. “You’re a temptress when you beg, but the answer is no.” He quickly kissed my lips, then turned and walked away, shutting the door behind him. I huffed, my hands falling into my lap, my shoulders dropping.

Sacha had sealed shut the secret passage we’d discovered and stationed Yuri, his henchman, to guard it, making it impossible for me to use it as an escape route. Grigoriy was posted outside my bedroom door, blocking any attempt to leave undetected.

With no other options, I found myself confined to my luxurious prison, reading the English Version ofDead Soulsby Nikolai Gogol, the book Sacha had promised me weeks ago. As I read, I related to Chichikov, the novel’s main character, who traveled from town to town collecting the “dead souls” of recently deceased serfs. Like Chichikov, I was a stranger in this foreign country, with no one to confide in, especially now that Katya was gone. The novel’s melancholic tone only served to deepen my despair.

Hours dragged on as I paced my room, occasionally sitting upside down in my chair with my feet in the air, wondering what Sacha’s business could possibly be that required his absolute attention.

My gaze lingered on the tray perched on the bureau beside the door, and my stomach churned with disgust. Lydia, a new staffer with a perpetual scowl, had taken over Katya’s responsibilities, which included cleaning rooms and delivering my meals. But rather than being served at the dining table like a civilized person, I was relegated to eating alone in my room, like some kind of animal.

Every last one of my privileges had been revoked as if I were the one who had attempted to poison myself as if I were the one who had snuffed out Catherine and Katya’s lives with my own two hands.

The days bled away into pleasurable nights, his hands roaming every part of my body, his cock violating and unforgiving. Yet I encouraged him, rolling over moments after his touch wore off and begged for more.

Some mornings it was the only way to keep him in bed after the sun rose. And some nights, it was the only thing he came into my room for.

Four hours later, after groveling like a needy puppy, I finally finished reading the last sentence of chapter thirty-three. Just when I was about to find another novel, the door creaked open, and a pair of black loafers strode in. I dropped the novel to my lap and glanced at him.

“What are you doing?” His deep, timbre voice carried through to my chest, swirling my belly with violent flutters.

“Reading. What else is there to do?” I turned, swinging my legs down and over the back of the headrest until they landed on the floor. My head swam for a moment, then corrected itself as he opened the door wider, allowing two women I’d never seen before to enter the room with garments in their arms. “What’s this?”

“I need you to try these on. See which one fits and pick one.”

I snorted. “You’re letting me pick my clothes?” I jumped from my seat. “You’re letting me go outside?” The realization smacked me in the chest. He shook his head, and all elation deflated as I dropped the book to the chair.

“This is for the party tonight.”

My stomach leaped and not from the lust-filled butterflies. “Party?”

Friday had arrived, and yet I still hadn’t received any word from Nikolai or Sacha about my blood test results. Even though I’d entrusted it to Sacha, I couldn’t help but worry. What if the previous test had been flawed and the Eldritch mutation was still present? What if Sacha was powerless to save me? Or worse, what if he didn’t want to? I mean, I had caused so much turmoil. He’d been forced to kill three people he was close to because of me. That had to lead tosomeanimosity towards me, yet I hadn’t seemed to notice any.

“We have it every year.”

As the women laid out the dresses across the bed, unzipping them one by one, I made my way over to Sacha. “What’s it for?”

“It’s a celebration. We announce to the church the chosen sacrifice.”

My heartthunkedagainst my breastbone, the world spun, and my throat constricted. “And… and you want me to attend.”

He rubbed his hands down my shoulders. “Everyone with an invitation attends, including the entire family of the person who’s chosen.”

“And who was chosen?”

“I can’t say. Ruslan holds that information.”

The blood fell from my lips, causing them to tingle.

One. Two. Three.

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