Niko made a low noise of frustration. “I need to talk to you.”
“And I’m under the impression that everything has already been said.” She let the fires ebb, the better to glare at him. “Don’t make it worse.”
“If you won’t listen to me, then perhaps a visual demonstration will be more effective.”
He brushed back his hair, deliberately baring the white streak above his ear.
“Stop it.” The words came harsh, a Dimi’s command to her Shadow, but Niko didn’t obey. Instead he shoved his shirtsleeve up, revealing his tattoo.
“These are your marks. Both of them. And I’ll never regret them. They say I’m yours. That I belong to you.”
“You don’t!” Pain tore at her, and she pressed her fingers to her chest, trying to contain it. “Those marks say you’re myShadow. As you will always be, more fool I. I should have known my feelings for you for what they were and sworn my gifts to another.”
His face paled still further. “Don’t say that.”
She forced her hands to her sides. “Why not? At least then I wouldn’t have to look at you every day, to fight alongside you. To have you closer to me than any living being and yet lost to me in the way that matters most. To have brought ruin upon Iriska.”
“Katya—”
“Go away, Niko.” She schooled her face to blankness. “Go home to your wife.”
“I didn’t lie with her.”
The words fell like stones into the still pool of the night. Slowly, Katerina’s head rose. “What do you mean?”
“I couldn’t, Katya. I couldn’t do it.” His voice broke. “I tried. I know it’s my duty. But Saints help me, to even get near her—to put my hands on her—I had to picture your face. To pretend she was you. But she isn’t. And I-I couldn’t touch her.”
Katerina was speechless.
“She wants me,” Niko said, each word precise, “but for the sake of the image she’s created—not who I truly am. She wants the Shadow in me. But you see through my pretenses and love me anyway, for the boy I once was and the man that stands alongside my Shadow. I cannot settle for less.”
The knife fell from Katerina’s hand, settling among the flowers. “What are you saying?”
He stepped over her guttering fires, cleaving through the night to stand in front of her. The scent of the sage and lavender incense Baba’s apprentices had burned at his wedding rose up around them like a cloud. “Once,” he said, his voice soft, “I told you that with a single kiss, you shatter me like ice and you scorch me like a flame.”
“I remember.” Katerina’s throat was so dry, the words came out as a croak.
His eyes were on hers, their expression no longer inscrutable. In them she saw desire, resentment, grief—and a raw emotion that threatened to undo her fragile control. “When I realized I couldn’t lay a finger on Elena—much less do as I must to get a Shadowchild on her—I wanted to hate you. For you have ruined me forever for another. But I can’t. I love you, Katerina. And all I want is to burn.”
Katerina’s breath caught, and she pulled him down to her. Their mouths collided gracelessly, his teeth sinking into her bottom lip even as she dug her nails into the back of his neck deep enough to draw blood. The kiss was a battle, their tonguestangling, his hands sinking into her hair and tugging at the roots until she cried out. In the circle around them, the fires flared, sparks rising up into the night.
“I’m yours,” he said, a vicious whisper. “Whether you wish it or no.”
She pulled back, keeping her grip on his neck. “You are mine, Niko Alekhin. To do with as I will.”
One dark eyebrow rose. “A threat, my Dimi? Or a promise?”
“Both,” Katerina said, and Niko’s mouth found hers again. His arms wrapped around her, their grip gentling until he simply held her, clutching her with tenderness and a desperation that pierced her heart.
“Excellent,” he said into her hair, his lips tracing their way down her neck, finding the spot above her collarbone that always made her shiver.
She moved out of the circle of his arms so she could see his face. “You really didn’t touch her?”
Niko shook his head. “Why do you think I’m still wearing these dreadful clothes? I assure you, it’s not for the sake of ease and comfort. Have you any idea how much this fabric itches?”
Now it was Katerina’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “If you’re angling for me to ask you to take your clothes off, you’re going to have to do better than that.”
He took her hand in his. “For once, I’m not. I’m asking you to run away with me. To the Magiya. We’ll figure this out once and for all. We’ll save Iriska. And then we can be together.”