Page 43 of Fate and Fury

Katerina ignored him, barreling onward. “In a month, we’ll leave for the Kniaz’s estate. Sooner than that, you’ll be married to a woman who idolizes you and has been waiting all her life for this moment. What is the point of starting something that can come to no good end?”

She glared at him. “Or is it that you fought with that fool Andrei today? Everyone knows Shadows seek solace in a bottle or a woman’s bed after a fight. Are you simply using me, then, to get out your?—”

Before she could finish her sentence, his mouth was on hers, hungry, devouring. His hands wound tight into her hair, the scent of him all around her, his tongue licking along hers. When he pulled back, they were both panting.

“I wantyou,Katerina,” he growled. “Not some nameless, faceless woman. Not Elena.You, who challenge me at every turn.I nearly slaughtered that idiot in front of the entire village for speaking of the Kniaz taking you to his bed, yet you were the one who had to stand up for my betrothed. Soon to be mywife.I didn’t even notice the way he was looking at her. Is that not proof enough for you?”

Katerina’s hands shook. When she finally found her voice, it shook as well. “We can’t, Niko. You know we can’t.”

His face darkened. “Tell me what you want, Katya.”

This time, she was the one who reached for him. He came eagerly, the leather of his gear rough against the thin material ofher gown, his body holding the heat of the fire and the leashed strength of a Shadow. She could feel him tremble with the effort it took to hold back when they kissed. To let her lead. But he did it, as he was sworn to do, and inside her, the wall she’d built between them began to crumble.

He pulled back once more, lips slightly parted, breath coming hard. Gently, he brushed the crimson waves from her face. “Perhaps you’re wise to fear the prophecy,” he said, his voice breaking. “To regret Elena. But for me, the damage has already been done. For wherever I go, whoever I wed, I will always belong to you.”

Katerina stared at him, eyes wide. Was she dreaming, to have Niko say the words she’d only imagined for so long?

She was sure she hadn’t spoken aloud. But perhaps she had, because Niko’s raven-black brows rose. “No dream, Katerina,” he said. “This is real, Saints help us both. I’ve wanted to say this to you for so long, and held back. But I fear this may be my last chance. If the Darkness takes us tomorrow, I don’t want to die knowing I didn’t have the courage to speak what’s in my heart.”

Katerina’s mouth had gone bone-dry. She regarded Niko, and he looked back, his face calm, expectant. Braver than she could ever hope to be.

She should have backed away. Disentangled herself from his arms and fled the way she’d done the first night they kissed. He would have let her go.

But she didn’t move.

Niko didn’t, either. His arms around her, his lips an inch from hers…they were a question, asked over and over again. And Katerina had only one answer.

She stood on her tiptoes, giving him every chance to pull away. Her lips pressed against his, taking his breath for her own, giving it back again. Still he remained motionless, a statue above her. She traced his lips with her tongue, tasting him: blood andfire. A growl rose in his chest, but he stayed perfectly still, letting her use him as she would. Letting her decide.

When she pulled back, it was only to unbutton his shirt and toss it to the floor. His gaze grew darker, his eyelids sinking to half-mast.

“On your knees, my Shadow,” she said softly, curious to see what he would do.

Niko obeyed at once, his hands falling open at his sides. It was a posture of supplication, of submission. But he did it, without hesitation or question.

I’m yours,it said.And if you want me, then…

“You kneel for no one,” she said in wonder, gazing down at him.

His throat worked. “I think we both know, my Dimi, that I kneel for you.”

Another time, Katerina would have teased him with the promise of pleasure, made him wait until neither of them could stand it, made him beg. But not now, when every cell of her body craved his. Instead she knelt in front of him, skating her teeth along his jawline. She nipped his collarbone, then pressed her palm against his Mark.

At that, Niko’s control broke. His hands came up and he dug his fingers into her hips, yanking her hard against him. Somehow she was on the floor on the hearth rug, and he was looming over her, murmuring her name, his hands roving the length of her body. Her magic surged out to meet him, caressing his skin, and he moaned above her, his eyes darkening as he undid the ribbon at the neckline of her gown and tugged it over her head. He knelt before her and worshiped her and when they merged into one single, burning being, their shadows coupling on the wall beside them, there was no point in pretending that this would be the last time.

22

GADREEL

The Bone Moon sank, readying the Blood Moon to rise in its stead.

Backlit by the dim glow that blanched the forest, a cluster of Grigori crept through the trees. Masters of illusion, they didn’t look like creatures of Darkness. Instead, they’d shifted their shapes to resemble the men and women of Kalach, the better to infiltrate and devour. But the denizens of the forest knew them for what they were, and hid as they passed.

“To me, warriors,” Gadreel hissed as they came within sight of the rowan-fires that burned along the boundaries of Kalach. This was the home of the Dimi who had slaughtered his soldiers, the one who was stronger than any who had come before. He could feel her here, her power like a magnet drawing him onward.

But he could feel the Darkness, too. Swallowing Drezna whole had sustained it for a while, but now it was stirring again. There was no time to waste. Gadreel’s army wasn’t as massive as it would have been if the Dimi hadn’t vanquished his minions, but that was all right. He couldn’t bring too many soldiers to Kalach, lest he arouse suspicion. Even among his own ranks,there were spies. He had to lead his soldiers to believe this was nothing other than a typical raid, one he had decided to monitor personally after the disaster outside Drezna, lest word get back to Sammael that there was something special about Kalach.

It might be too late for that already. If he could feel the extraordinary Dimi’s power, then chances were that Sammael could, too. Even if the other demon believed Gadreel was responsible for the devastation of Drezna, that didn’t explain the cracks that had appeared in the barrier separating the Underworld and the world of humans. Gadreel could feel a yielding to the wards that protected Iriska. A sense of openness that hadn’t been there before.

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