Page 65 of Fate and Fury

The strangest look passed across his face then—sadness, regret, and frustration, all drifting through his eyes like a storm cloud before they resumed their usual inscrutability. “You’re a good person, Elena. I know you would.”

You’re a good personwasn’t exactly a passionate endearment, but Elena would take what she could get. She moved closer and shut her eyes, standing on tiptoes to press her lips to his.

Niko’s lips grazed hers for an instant—and then he stepped back, away from her. “Truly, seeing you unclothed has undone me,” he said as her eyes blinked open. “I don’t feel quite myself.”

Elena tried to hide her hurt as he snatched up her bridal night finery as if it were on fire and thrust it at her. “Please put this on,” he said with a horrible attempt at a smile. “Should I regard you in the altogether for much longer, you’ll find me prostrate at your feet.”

She took the gown from him with shaking fingers and slipped it over her head. “If you feel ill,” she said, “maybe you should lie down.” Surely if he were in bed with her, his body next to hers as she’d imagined for so long, she would be able to banish Katerinafrom his mind. After all, Katerina was only his Dimi. Elena was hiswife.

He followed her to the bed willingly enough, pulling back the covers for her. “Comfortable?” he asked, as solicitously as if she were a grandmother with the ague.

“I’d be more comfortable with you beside me.” She patted the space next to her, dipping her head in invitation.

Niko sat down on the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on the lace that fringed the pillows. “You make a lovely bride, Elena,” he said to the quilt. “I’m sure I was the envy of every Shadow in the village today.”

“I don’t care about any other Shadow.” Her voice was weighted with frustration. Why wouldn’t he at least look at her? “All I care about is you. If you think I’m lovely, that’s all that matters to me.”

Silence fell between them. Elena broke it, reaching out to trace the hem of his white tunic, embroidered with the silver-and-red runes that marked him as hers. “Are you going to sleep in this?”

“I’m not tired.” He offered her another strained smile. “You rest. I’ll be right here.” He lay down beside her, his body stiff.

The few inches of space between them felt like a gigantic gulf. Elena wanted more than anything to bridge it, to show him she could be what he needed, but she didn’t know how. In the end she settled for laying her head on the scratchy fabric that covered his chest. His heart beat beneath her ear, a steady rhythm that both enraged and saddened her. How could his heart go on beating as it always had, when hers was broken?

Slowly, his arm came up to hold her. Elena lay still, afraid to so much as fidget lest she scare him away. He pressed his lips to the crown of her head. “Sleep, Elena,” he said.

She let her eyes fall shut, forced her breathing to become even. The minutes ticked by, the clock that had been Alyona’sgift to them marking the time. After fifteen minutes, Niko loosened his grip. After thirty, he eased his way from beneath her body, pulling up the quilt to cover her and moving soundlessly off the bed.

He stood in silence, and she tried to convince herself he was looking down at her sleeping face, thinking how beautiful she was, how lucky he was to have her for his own. But instead his footsteps sounded on the wooden boards of the cottage, moving inexorably toward the door. It shut behind him with a click, leaving Elena alone.

Her eyes blinked open. Sure enough, he was gone.

He’d gone to meether.Elena was sure of it. On their wedding night. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

In the silence of their empty cottage, a moth fluttered onto Elena’s shoulder. She moved to brush it away, but it came back again, this time settling onto her hand. She blinked at it through her tears.

“Sammael?” she said at last.

The moth’s wings flapped twice, as if in assent.

“He left me.” Elena’s voice broke. “I’d hoped once we were together—once I wore his ring—it would be different. But it isn’t. It’s just the same.”

The moth lifted one tiny leg and stroked her knuckle, as if in sympathy.

“You’re the only one who knows the whole truth.” She ran a finger along the moth’s velvet wing. “Of course, I might not know the truth either, if it hadn’t been for you. You pretended to be Alyona, didn’t you? Somehow, you got past the wards and masked your scent. You stole her shape, and told me about Niko and—her.” If she had to say Katerina’s name aloud, she thought she might break something.

One moment, a moth fluttered on her fingertip. The next, the air in the darkened cottage wavered, and Sammael sat onthe side of her bed, smelling of rosemary and cloves. “The wards have weakened,” he said. “And as for the rest—I can explain.”

A shriek escaped her, and she slid backward until she hit the wall. “Saints,” she said, pressing a hand to her pounding heart.

She could barely make him out in the darkness, but there was no mistaking the apology in his tone. “I thought you knew it was me, Elena. It was not my intention to frighten you.”

Elena had never shared a bed with a man before, but in the past quarter-hour, her boudoir had hosted a Shadow and a demon. What was next—an entourage of sacred Saints? “I did know it was you,” she said, trying to imbue her voice with courage. “It’s just—I didn’t expect you to materialize like that. As a man. In my bedroom. On my wedding night.”

“I assure you I meant no impropriety.”

She sat up, pulling the quilt around her. “I think we’re beyond that, don’t you?”

His harsh intake of breath shook the bed. “I think you are beautiful, Elena. As lovely as the fairest flower in the forest, as vibrant as the setting sun—but I swear I will never touch you if you do not want me to. Demons covet, it is true. But I have tried to be better than that with you, no matter what Gadreel might insinuate. I will never lay a finger on you in desire, save you ask me for the favor. I set my word on it.”

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