Page 31 of Fate and Fury

She shook her head, but he just waited. One moment. Two. And then, as if his words had the power to compel her rather than the other way around, she turned.

The fire limned Niko’s body, outlining him in crimson. “I see how you watch me,” he said, each word dropping slow as honey. “I know, because I watch you the same way.”

“I don’t watch you!”

He stepped closer still. “Just once, Katerina,” he said, his breath warm on her skin. “For just a minute, forget the prophecy and the vow I made today. Just once, let us see what it could be like between us.”

She should say no. She should flee, never mind the prowling demons and the fact that she only wore her shift. She should remember Konstantin and Maksim. And Elena.

But instead, she lifted a trembling hand to touch Niko’s face. His skin was warm, the plush of his stubble prickling her fingertips. He closed his eyes, breath hissing through his teeth, as if her touch caused him equal pleasure and pain. Desire bloomed inside her, as lush as the velvety petals of the flowers that unfurled from their tight buds only at night.

She opened her mouth, intending to tell him what he asked was impossible. That it was a terrible idea. The worst imaginable. But instead—“Just once, my Shadow,” she said.

Niko’s eyes opened, shock clear in their depths. “Just once,” he promised, and then his head bent and his mouth found hers.

He tasted of ginger tea and broken promises, of a hint of Katerina’s magic and of the Light that could drive Grigori demons into the Dark. His calloused hands threaded into Katerina’s hair and his tongue traced her lips, urging her to open for him. Against the hollow of her throat, the amulet that held his blood beat like a second heart. She gasped, and the flames inthe hearth leapt higher, casting strange, dancing shadows on the wall.

Katerina knotted her fingers in the rough linen of his shirt, desperation searing through her body. If this kiss was all they would ever have, then she would make the most of it. She would show him how a Dimi and her Shadow could burn. Her hands roamed his body, igniting heat everywhere they touched, and her witchfire followed, caressing places her hands could not. Niko moaned as he felt it, gripping her tighter.

The wind picked up, mirroring the growing storm inside her, whipping the trees against the cottage. He cursed, a mumbled string of words that ended in her name. And then they were on the floor in front of the fire, her long red hair streaming down around him, and he was looking up at her, his lips parted, his eyes wide and dark and fixed on her like she was all he could see.

“You’re the one I want, Katya.” The words caught in his throat, but his gaze was steady on hers. “I will always belong to you.”

Katerina felt him everywhere: the restraint of his hands, digging tight into her hips; the leashed strength of his warrior’s body beneath hers; the pulse of their Shadow bond, deep in her witch’s heart. She had to bite her tongue to keep from speaking:I want you, too.Saying it would make what was happening between them real, would give it shape and form. There would be no taking it back, then.

Outside, the wind rose from a murmur to a roar. The trees bent, their limbs lashing the cottage harder than ever, twigs scraping glass and wood in a discordant complaint. And Katerina bent, too, pinning her Shadow’s wrists above his head, her lips inches from his. She held him there like an offering. He could have had her on her back in an instant. But he held still, letting her do with him what she would.

Which was…what? What were they doing? How had it gotten so out of hand?

Niko gazed up at her, his eyes wide. The tips of her breasts brushed against his chest, sending electricity prickling through her body, and he drew a ragged breath, shifting beneath her. “God, Katya,” he whispered. “Please.”

She could feel how much he wanted her, and wanted him the same way. Not just his body, but his heart. But how could she tell him so? It would bring about their undoing. The undoing of everything and everyone they loved. Everything they fought to protect.

She let go of his wrists, struggling to catch her breath. “Niko, we can’t.”

He sat up, reaching for her, and Katerina drew back. If he touched her now, she wouldn’t be able to resist. And then what would become of them?

But all he did was stroke her cheek, his expression filled with unutterable sadness. “I’m not sorry,”he whispered. “Saints help me, Katerina, but I don’t regret this. I never will.”

The tenderness in his touch galvanized her. Katerina leapt to her feet, knocking over what remained of his tea. She snatched a shawl from the hook beside the door and fled into the storm that had arisen outside—herstorm—dumping rain onto the cobblestones and sending the shutters banging against the windows.

Niko didn’t follow.

16

KATERINA

Clad in her thin white shift and the scarlet shawl she’d dyed from madder root, Katerina fled through the deserted apple orchard, the sodden grass squelching beneath her feet. The farther she got from Niko, the more the storm died down, until finally the trees stilled and the wind fell to a murmur. The orchard was silent, lit by the all-seeing eye of the Bone Moon.

A branch cracked behind her and she spun, panicked—but there was no one there. Just the skeletal trees, reaching toward the vault of the sky. Still, a Dimi on her own could never be too cautious, especially in times like these.

“Noch,”she whispered, and the night detached itself from the edges of things, curling around her body like a satisfied cat, concealing her. She glanced behind her, but the orchard had fallen silent once more. Nothing moved in the dark.

Clutching the shawl at her throat, Katerina passed through the orchard and into the forest, relieved when the gnarled oaks and scrub pines hid her from view. Baba Petrova had warned her often enough that she was never to go into the forest at night on her own, much less this close to the slippage between worlds,when everything threatened to come undone. She was supposed to take Niko, to always have him at her side.

But tonight, he was the thing she was running from.

Katerina came to a halt in the elderflower clearing where she often foraged and shook her head with frustration, letting her long hair fall loose around her. She hadn’t wanted Niko to follow her—had she? But then why did part of her wish he had? Gazing into the trees, she half-hoped, half-feared he’d materialize in their midst. Maybe it was her imagination, but she could swear she felt his gaze resting on her.

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