Page 57 of Fate and Fury

Her hands went to his face, fingers tracing the stubble that lined his jaw. “If I’m the fire,” she whispered, “then you are the kindling that lights the flame. Mind yourself, Shadow. Fire wants nothing but to burn.”

He gathered her hair in his hands, then let it fall. It cascaded onto her shoulders, sparking red and gold in the light of the hearth. “Burn away, Dimi Ivanova. I dare you.”

Katerina drew on the hearthfire, tracing his Mark with her fingertips as a line of heat slid down his neck, his chest, the flat plane of his stomach—then lower still, touching him everywhere her hands did not. His eyes widened with surprise before they fluttered shut. “Saints,” he muttered, reaching out to steady himself against the wall.

“Do I shatter you, my Shadow?” she said, lips curving against his skin.

Niko went to his knees. “Every time, Katya,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Break me, then,” she said, a challenge. “Break me like your promises.”

Pulling her down to him, he did as she asked. But even as he stroked her hair and whispered how beautiful she was, as she cried out and he echoed her, she couldn’t put that ever-present sense of wrongness to rest.

A storm was coming. And this time, hers was not the hand that spurred the wind.

Afterward,she lay with her head on his chest, listening to the reassuring thump of his heart. He brushed his lips across her hair, his thumb tracing a gentle path along her collarbone, coming to rest in the hollow of her throat. “Now,” he said, his voice a rumble beneath her, “I’m tired.”

Though she hated to do it, she sat up at once, one knee on either side of his body. “I’m sure you are. You should get up, then.” They were careful not to risk him falling asleep in her bed, lest someone barge in and discover the two of them together.

“Hmmm,” he said, quirking a brow. “In a minute. Let me appreciate this view for a bit.”

She poked his shoulder. “Now, Niko.”

“I see how you are.” He wrapped his arms around her, rolling her beneath him. “Get what you want from me, and then just kick me out of bed. I’m not going anywhere, Katerina. Not unless you want to use your witchwind, in which case you’ll probably extinguish the fire, and I’m not rebuilding it for you. I’m tired, like I said.”

“Ugh. Getoff,you oaf!” she protested, shoving him.

Both brows were at it now. “Make me.”

Katerina pushed harder at his chest, with exactly as much impact as if she’d attempted to move a brick wall. He grinned down at her, a bright, beautiful smile that made her heart ache. “You’ve got to try harder than that, Katya.”

They were wrestling, then, the way they used to do when they were children, and Katerina was honest-to-Saints giggling, Niko mock-growling at her in response, and?—

Someone was pounding on the door.

Her Shadow let go of her as if she’d scorched him. She leapt from the bed, scrambling for her shift, as he stood, eyes wide with panic, and yanked on his pants, which had somehow managed to land on Katerina’s dresser.

“Dimi Ivanova!” It was Natalya, one of the younger Dimis that Baba had been training to take Katerina’s place. “Shadow Alekhin! Wake up!”

Niko had managed to button his pants and was struggling into his shirt. “One moment,” he yelled in the direction of the door, and then, under his breath to Katerina, “Stay here. Get dressed. I’ll delay her.” He ran a hasty hand through his hair in a futile attempt to tame it. Throwing Katerina a look that mingled desperation and regret, he strode out of the bedroom. The door clicked shut behind him.

Adrenaline shot through Katerina, as much from being summoned in the middle of the night as from the fear of discovery. She sank onto the bed, struggling to catch her breath. On the other side of the bedroom door, she could hear Niko questioning Natalya, the Dimi’s voice rising in hysterical response and another, deeper voice following a beat behind. She spared a quick glance in the mirror atop her dresser: color burned high on her cheeks, and her eyes were bright, the pupils dilated. Perhaps Natalya wouldn’t notice, or if she did, she would attribute it to the excitement of being awoken so suddenly.

What was she doing, thinking about this now? Something was horribly wrong. She needed to act like a Dimi, not a lovestruck girl.

Katerina laced the ribbon of her shift and pulled a shawl from the hook on the back of her bedroom door. Then she drew a steadying breath and rushed into the main room of the cottage, rubbing her eyes as if to erase the sleep from them.

Natalya stood there, with Gregory, her Shadow, behind her. The younger Dimi’s chest heaved with alarm, her brown haircoming loose from its usual bun. “Dimi Ivanova,” she cried when she saw Katerina. “Baba sent me to find you. Something terrible has happened.”

Katerina didn’t dare look at Niko. “What?” she demanded, anxiety sharpening her voice.

Natalya hiccupped. Tears glossed her eyes. “Nadia—Nadia?—”

A spike of fear jabbed Katerina in the belly. “Nadia what? Is she back? Is she all right?”

The young Dimi shook her head, sniffling. “Her…her horse came back. B-burnt. Just hers. Not Oriel’s. Without a rider.”

Niko’s expression was grim as he turned to the cabinet where he kept his blades. “Gregory was just telling me that he was on patrol when the mare found its way home,” he said, buckling his holster around his waist. “She’s in the stables now, in terrible shape.”

---