Page 103 of Fate and Fury

Niko froze. When he spoke, his voice was gentle. “I’m not a demon, Katya. I’m not Gadreel. I’m yours.”

Was it possible that Elena and Sammael had kept their promise? That Niko had followed her out of the tunnel somehow? Or was this just another lie? Because if it was, Katerina thought she might not survive it.

“How do I know?” she said, her voice quaking. “How do I know it’s you?”

Niko gave her a sad, small smile. “Because you fought for me,” he said. “Because you saved me. Because, Katya mine, you shatter me like ice and you scorch me like a flame and you never let me lie.”

His hand went to his waist, and Katerina flinched. She sent her power down into the earth, preparing to crack the ground where he stood if need be. But when he lifted it again, he held her blade, the one that had been stolen from her in the tunnels.

“You lost something,” he said.

Before Katerina could reply, he drew the blade across his forearm. A rust-rich scent, nothing like the icy, sweet aroma of Grigori blood, filled the air between them as the first drops fell onto the leaves at his feet. They seeped through the leaves and into the earth beneath, meeting her waiting magic.

Katerina felt the unmistakable impact of recognition in her bones an instant before a shockwave swept the clearing, the earth buckling and the trees bending low, as if in homage. The altar crumbled to dust with a thud, leaving the vines grasping at nothing. And around Katerina’s neck, the amulet came alive, the blood within it pulsing to the beat of Niko’s heart.

Her own heart leapt. Heedless of the destruction, she ran for him, the call of his blood and her magic urging her ever closer. She threw her arms around him, holding him close. He smelled of rust and sweat andhome.

Niko grasped her tight, so tight she could scarcely breathe. He lowered his head into her hair. “Katerina.” The words were a whisper against her skin. “You came for me.”

She was laughing and crying all at once, tears cascading down her cheeks. “Of course I did. How could I not?”

He grasped her by the shoulders and held her away from him, peering into her eyes. “You shouldn’t have done it. You could have been killed. Or worse, chained beside me. Do you know what torture it was, to watch as you confronted them and be unable to help? To protect you?”

She sniffed, swiping the back of her hand across her cheek. “You told me once we were stronger together. That we protected each other. I was just keeping my end of the bargain. Next time, it can be your turn.”

Her eyes ran over him from head to toe, taking in the man she had thought she would never see again: storm-gray eyes, darker than usual with emotion; rumpled hair; mouth set in the stubborn line she loved. She wanted—needed—to see the proof that he still belonged to her. And to believe he was really here, alive and hers, at least for the months he had been promised to her.

“Take it off,” she said, gesturing at his shirt. “Please.”

Niko’s mouth quirked, but he did as she asked. His deft fingers moved to the buttons, undoing them one by one. And then he shrugged the shirt off and let it fall.

Katerina’s breath caught. He was as beautiful to her as he had always been. But he was different, too.

There, on his chest, was the evidence of the wound that had taken him from her, but it was healed now, only a silvered scar left behind. She remembered pressing desperately against it, trying to keep his lifeblood from soaking the elderflowers beneath them, as Elena shrieked and Gadreel laughed. It seemed impossible that such a wound could be reduced to a mere silver seam against the pale glow of his flesh in the moonlight. But yet it was.

Niko stood stock-still, letting her examine him. It was an unnatural stillness, like the coiled strength of his black dog before he shifted and leapt into battle. He was waiting, she realized. But for what?

Her gaze skimmed over his chest, finding the Mark on his upper arm that branded him as hers. She was afraid it would be faded or destroyed altogether, but there it was—the blue-black interlocking circles, representing the blood and magic that bound him.

Her Shadow. Her promise, made and broken and kept again.

Niko followed her gaze, and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “I never left you, Katya. All the time they kept me captive, no matter what they did to me, I thought of you.”

No matter what they did to me.How had he been tortured, abused? How had the demon and Elena debased him? The thought of it made her tremble with rage.

Once, Niko would have understood everything she was thinking before she’d spoken a word. But now, watching her shake, his shoulders hunched. His gaze dropped, as if he feared what he might see in her eyes. “Don’t be afraid of me, Katya, please,” he said, his voice breaking. “I would never hurt you.”

Katerina wanted to tell him she knew that. That the very thought of it was absurd. But at the sight of her proud Shadow standing before her, unable to meet her eyes, words left her. Instead, she did the only thing she could: she stepped closer, so close she could feel the heat of his skin.Alive,she rejoiced. Alive, and hers.

“Look at me, Niko,” she said.

Eyes on the ground, he shook his head.

“Please,” she said again. It was a word she rarely used, much less twice in the span of five minutes, and Niko knew it. His head came up, and the desolation in his eyes almost destroyed her.

Slow as if she was moving through water, she lifted her hand, closing the space between them. And then she pressed her palm full against his brand.

Lightning forked through Katerina, electrifying every vein and sinew, as the bond between them snapped into place. She gasped, and Niko’s head went back, a growl escaping his throat. He bucked against her, his Mark searing red-hot beneath her palm.

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