Page 12 of Claimed By Desire

But if it really was a dream, it was one of the best I’ve ever had.

That’s the really messed up part.

I let myself have something I’ve always wanted, something I knew wouldn’t be good for me, and it was so much better than I ever dreamed.

I should’ve known that was always just one more lie in a very long line of mistruths and abuses.

“Natalya!” The door bursts open and Lev appears on the doorstep. My brother looks like he lost some weight, like he’s harder than I remember. Lev was always the lighthearted one, always quick to laugh and joke and smile. Where Stepan was serious and tough, Lev was gentle and easygoing. We’ve always gotten along really well.

Except for the last year.

He throws his arms around me and hugs me tight. I stand there, not sure what to do, but it feels good to be with him again, and I eventually hug him back.

“We missed you,” he says, his voice muffled. He pulls back, grinning huge. “How was Paris? Was it amazing?”

I stare at him, not sure what to say. In his mind, Stepan’s been dead and buried for months, but in mine, it only just happened, the wound is fresh, my mourning is intense and deep and black.

“It was fine.”

He barks a laugh and drags me inside. “Fine? That’s all you got for me? You lived for an entire year in Paris and it was justfine?”

“I couldn’t really speak French,” I mumble at him, looking around the foyer. Everything is the same. Oil paintings on the walls, family photos along the bannister. My mother smiling, dead before I ever had a chance to now her. My father glaring outfrom behind his big desk, ten years younger than he is now. Me and my brothers, still little and happy. Stepan, still alive.

“That probably would’ve helped.”

“Lev—“ I start and my words fail me. Tears threaten again. Alex enters behind us and glances in our direction as he wordlessly carries my luggage up into my room.

Lev’s smile fades away. “I know.”

“How? I can’t believe it.”

“I know, Nat, I know.” He looks down at the floor. “It was bad. It was really bad. I was there, and we just—I’m sorry. We couldn’t save him.”

I pull him into a hug. I didn’t know that he’d been there when Stepan was killed, and I can only guess at how much that’s eating at him. Lev hugs me back briefly.

“You should’ve told me,” I say, but a lot of the anger’s fading away. Now that I’m looking close, Lev hasn’t only lost weight. He seems tired, almost gaunt, like something’s draining him from the inside. The pressure of being the oldest is beginning to shape him into something he never wanted. I can only imagine what it’s been like, acting as our father’s heir.

“He made it clear that we weren’t supposed to reach out to you. I should’ve emailed or called or something anyway, but—“ He stops and looks around as if Dad might appear around the corner. “I’m sorry, Nat. I know it’s fucked.”

“I had to find out from him.” I nod at Alex as he comes back down the steps and head out to make another trip.

Lev’s expression is hard to read. “He’s been a big help, you know. He stepped up big time.”

“You have him doing your dirty work.” I punch Lev in the chest lightly. “You sent him out to get me.”

He snorts. “That was Dad’s doing. I volunteered.”

“Yeah, right.”

“What? A free trip to Paris? A few days to fuck around, just so fetch you? That was a fucking plum job, but you should’ve heard the way Alex complained, like we were asking him to cut off his own hands. He even told Dad that he should go out there and tell you about Stepan himself. Dad was pissed, but you know Alex. Speaks his mind, but always does what he’s told.”

I watch as Alex walks through again with my last bag. He avoids looking at us and heads straight upstairs.

“I didn’t know that,” I say, frowning to myself. “He really spoke up to Dad?”

“Oh, yeah, it was a whole thing. But ever since Step died, Alex has been taking on more responsibility around the place, and I think Dad wants him to be more assertive. That’s my guess, anyway.”

Alex comes back downstairs. This time, he pauses near us, and nods at me. “Everything’s up there.”

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