Page 37 of Fate and Fury

Maybe this was different, though. Elena had loved Niko for the past ten years—almost half her life. Marrying him was her birthright. The idea that Niko and his Dimi were engaging in some kind of illicit flirtation—that they had feelings for each other, Saints forbid—had the power to break Elena’s heart.

Elena wasn’t a fool. She’d known Niko and Katerina were closer than the average Shadow and Dimi. She’d grown up with them, always on the outside of their private jokes and bizarre antics, the long talks that left the two of them sitting at the outskirts of the village, in burning distance of the rowan-fires, tempting fate long after the sun sank below the fringe of the trees. Once or twice, she’d caught Niko’s eyes on Katerina in an unguarded moment, when he hadn’t known Elena was watching, and thought maybe?—

The thought had fled as quickly as it had come. They were bonded, a warrior union until death sundered one of them from the other’s side. Such closeness would only serve to strengthen their connection. Elena had been ashamed of herself, suspecting anything more existed.

When Baba Petrova had placed her hand in Niko’s, announcing their betrothal, she’d thought her heart would burst with joy. Now, she thought, Niko would look at her the way he’d regarded Katerina: As if Elena were a miracle, a treasure he couldn’t believe he got to keep. As if she werehis.

And when he hadn’t, when he’d gazed at her the way he had the day before and the day before that—with a brotherly tenderness that verged on forbearance—she’d convinced herself he only needed time.

Maybe that’s what Aly meant. Maybe she too had seen the way Niko looked at Katerina, with the awe and reverence he only reserved for his Dimi—and then the way he looked at Elena, like she was a little sister or a trusted friend.

Maybe everyone in the village had seen, and was laughing at her. Or worse, pitying her. Elena Lisova, prized among Vila, blessed by Sant Viktoriya, cuckolded by the man she loved. Robbed of her rightful destiny. The thought of it sent a sick chill down her spine.

“It’s not true,” Elena said, her voice too loud in the quiet nursery. “Niko is loyal. We will be happy together.”

“Of course you will,” Aly said, but the words fell flat.

Elena watched her Shadow and his Dimi as they walked down the path that led to the cottage they shared, and tried to banish the doubt from her heart. But it had taken root, and began to grow.

19

KATERINA

The morning that would change Katerina’s life yet again began like any other: with her averting her eyes from Niko as the two of them readied themselves for the day. She did her best to ignore the broad stretch of his shoulders beneath his linen shirt and the grace with which he slid his blades into their holster before striding out the door. And then she braided her hair in preparation for training and stomped after him, sticking her tongue out at his back. He had no business looking so irresistible. Nor being so cool and collected when she was burning up inside.

Her leg was healed now; Baba Petrova’s herbs and charms had worked their magic. Still, she felt undone, off-kilter. It was Niko’s fault, Saints damn him. He was right there, but shemissedhim. Missed having him the way they’d been together in the elderflower clearing three nights ago, hearing him whisper that he wanted her more than his next breath.

She’d said,Just this once,and by honoring it, he’d only done what she’d asked. But then why did she want to shake him, right before she pinned him to the wall of her cottage and took his stupid mouth with hers?

Ana was waiting at the bottom of the walkway, Alexei beside her. Niko fell into step with him as her friend looked Katerina up and down, her wide mouth rising in a sardonic grin. “In a good mood this morning, I see.”

Raising an eyebrow, Katerina summoned a hint of wind and pushed Ana back a step. “Does it show?”

Ana shoved a warning hint of heat back in Katerina’s direction, making Katerina give a genuine smile. It was good to be among other Dimis, to remind herself of who she was and where her priorities lay.

“Just a tad,” Ana said, holding her fingers apart an inch or so. “I mean, you seem a little more annoyed with the world than usual. As for your Shadow”—she gestured at Niko—“you’d think he’d be a bit more cheerful after his engagement to Sant Viktoriya herself. But there he is, looking as uptight as he’s been since you came home from the Trials.”

Katerina and Niko hadn’t so much as exchanged an inappropriate glance since the night of the Bone Moon. They’d never even spoken of what had transpired between them. Still, hearing Ana mention her Shadow’s engagement to the Vila cut like a knife.

“He’s notuptight,”she snapped. “You weren’t there when the Grigori swarmed out of the woods. You didn’t see the crater that devoured Drezna. What if whatever it is comes for us next?”

Ana shot her an apologetic look as they stepped onto the path that led to the outdoor arena by the river where the Shadows and Dimis trained together—the easier to summon water and put out fires. “You’re right, Katerina. I was just…joking. Trying to make light, in these dark times. But I shouldn’t have?—”

Her words trailed off as, in front of them on the path, Niko froze, and Alexei followed suit. “What’s wrong?” Katerina said, straining to see, but her Shadow blocked her way.

“There’s someone here,” he said, his tone terse. “I can smell them. Someone who doesn’t belong. Not Grigori, but…three strangers. And their mounts.”

Katerina smelled nothing, heard nothing. But if Niko said there were strangers here, she trusted him. Her magic hummed beneath her skin, ready for battle.

“Alexei?” Ana said, the teasing cadence gone from her voice.

“I smell them, too,” her Shadow said, running a hand through his auburn hair and revealing the star-shaped brand that had manifested after he bonded with Ana. “Human, like Niko said. Not Dimi or Shadow.”

Without a word, Ana moved up to flank Alexei, and Katerina did the same for Niko. They made their way down the path, following the Shadows’ unerring sense of smell. Twenty yards later, a man’s arrogant voice split the air, demanding to speak to Baba Petrova. Then he barked Katerina’s name, in a tone of clear command.

Next to her, Niko flinched. He turned and looked at her full-on, for the first time since that night in the woods. “Katya,” he said, the word heavy with all she had been dreading.

Whoever had come to Kalach, they had come for her.

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