Page 57 of Crave

The man who spins my universe. The man whose existence keeps me going. No matter how dark my days become, there is always light when he is beside me.

He shakes his head, swiping his tatted finger along his bottom lip.

I stay rooted in place. Frozen. Waiting for him to shatter me.

He gently tips my chin up to him. His normally wild eyes are softened.

“To me, that kiss could never be. To you? This might be the biggest mistake you’ve ever made, pchelka.”

“What do you mean?”

Never. That’s what I meant to say.

“I-I don’t know if I can stop. This might have taken my addiction to you a step beyond something we can go back from.”

I’m not sure if I should ask. “You don’t want to do it again?”

He raises a brow. But there is one thing on his face right now I’ve never seen before. Fear.

“You need to sleep and I need to go back to protecting you.” He presses a kiss to my forehead and pushes himself off the bed, leaving me empty and alone.

That’s how I feel whenever he isn’t with me.

I didn’t expect to wake up alone.

After everything I’ve been through, and last night, Alexei still left?

Maybe he sent me a message. It’s silly to think he would have stayed.

It’s not like we’retogether.

But he’s all I could think about when I was captured.

Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror tells me exactly why he left. The fresh stitches in my cheek are a sharp contrast to the red swollen edges that mark where Kirill jabbed that knife through.

Fuck him.

I hope we find him and shred him for what he’s done to all of us.

Anger shakes through me.

How dare he? Take me from my family, from the people I love toruinme?

I almost died.

I think a piece of me did.

Still weak, I work my way into the kitchen to find my refrigerator absolutely stuffed with food.

Finger sandwiches, strawberries, and drinks of every variety all stare back at me.

What else is in here?

I bet this was all Alexei. Or, Mikhail. They’re both good about taking care of me.

Nikolai doesn’t care. If he did, he would have invited me to his wedding.

Maybe I shouldn’t still be mad at him. But it’s hard not to be.

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