Page 6 of Inked Athena

“You need to rest,” Samuil says, his voice a faint rumble in the distance. It’s the last thing I hear before my eyes close, and I drift away.

There’s laughter in the trees. And crackling snarls following me as I run and run.

Every time I look over my shoulder, it’s another face—another monster. Ilya and a Labradoodle named Berry and my father.

And Sam. Always Sam.

He’s calling my name, his voice hauntingly familiar.

I’m so tired. So sore. I want to stop. I want to see him.

When he calls my name, I call back to him.

“Samuil.”

I wake up with his name on my lips. The last few days flicker through my mind in a lowlight reel I want to turn off.

The dog attack, my father threatening Grams, Ilya kidnapping me, running for my life through the woods not once, but twice. My heart kicks into an unsteady rhythm, and each ragged breath hurts.

Then a leg brushes mine.

I still, slowly looking over my shoulder again, and it’s Samuil. But his eyes are closed, his expression smooth and calm.

And I’m not afraid.

Maybe I should be, after everything. Part of me tries to be.Run. Scream. Fight.But I don’t have the energy for anything other than relief that he’s keeping me warm, a shield between me and the unfinished wood wall against his back.

As I’m tracing the square of his jaw, the thick, dark tangle of his beard, his eyes flicker open.

Immediately, his face sharpens and shifts. His eyes flare with heat and scan my face like he’s already looking for the answers I don’t know how to give.

I want to look away—I’m not strong enough to see how much he despises me. But I’m also too weak to look anywhere else.

I’ve missed him. And no matter what happens next, I’ll never be able to bring myself to hate him back.

“I’m going to kill whoever did this to you.”

But only because they beat you to it, right? Because someone else broke the toy that was yours to shatter?

Then he leans in slowly.

My breath catches in my throat as he closes the distance between us and brushes my hair away from my face so he can press a kiss to my forehead.

His warm breath washes over my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. “I’m going to take you somewhere safe,” he whispers. “Somewhere I can protect you.”

He’s lying.

He has to be.

My brain churns sluggishly, trying to make sense of how we ended up here.

“Sam…” My voice breaks.

He shakes his head. His hand curls around my cheek. “You need to rest.”

His lips brush against my forehead a second time. I close my eyes, letting myself believe for a few seconds that all he wants is to keep me safe. Buying into the fantasy that my betrayal and the gun I saw sitting in Samuil’s lap when I walked into the cabin mean nothing.

Maybe we can stay here forever—away from the darkness of his world and the uncertainty of mine. Maybe the Andropovs and Katerina and Ilya and my father will fade away, meaningless outside of how it feels to be with Samuil like this.

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