Page 104 of Untamed

The car comes to a stop, but I don’t move.

He said Shawn was here. Where exactly is he? How safe are we?

“Let’s go.”

“Rodion—”

When his eyes meet mine, something in me softens. I feel vulnerable and afraid, and no one,no onehas ever made me feel as safe as Rodion has. My words come out in a shaky whisper despite my bravest attempts to speak up. “Where is he?”

Rodion reaches for both of my hands, his gaze burning into mine. “Rafail said he’s gone for now. Told him he’d be back, and there would be hell to pay.” He shakes his head. “As if he thinks he can take on the Romanov and Kopolov family combined.”

But there’s a flicker in his eyes. This isn’t as simple as it seems.

I try to mask my feelings, try to pretend that I’m not a nervous wreck knowing Shawn’s flown all the way here to end whatever there is between me and Rodion. And right then, for one fraction of a second… I’m relieved we’re getting married. Even if it isn’t my choice. Even if it’s temporary.

I can feel the tension beneath Rodion’s calm exterior, his pulse rapid.

I can feel my own.

Rodion wraps his fingers around the back of my neck and brings my mouth to his. The kiss is tender and chaste, a reminder thathe’s going to do everything in his power to protect me. To keep us safe.

I have to hold onto that.

“You’re strong, Ember Steele. Even your name is fire. Unyielding.” He shakes his head, holding my gaze with his. “And no one, not even me, is going to take that from you.” He leans in and whispers in my ear, his breath hot on my neck. “Especiallyme.”

I have to believe him.

I have no other choice.

While the rest of this situation feels fraught and uncertain, there’s one thing I know for sure: the Romanovs don’t domodest.Do any of them?

For one fleeting second, I don’t feel like Cinderella in a borrowed gown, waiting for the clock to strike midnight before I turn back into a pauper. No. I hold my chin high, and for a fleeting second, I don’t care about Shawn. I don’t care about temporary or forced or whatever restrictions we want to put on my marriage to Rodion. For one fleeting second, I belong here.

Maybe Iama queen. His little queen, yes, but… a queen.

The world outside the window looks something like a dream. The gorgeous estate is sprawling and beautiful despite the marble, steel, and sharp edges of a New York winter. Ice crystals decorate the bare branches of the weeping willows that line the walk to the house.

Silhouettes of spire columns stand dark against the morning light backdrop.

Even from here, I can see sparkling chandeliers glinting from massive windows and staff inside milling about with efficiency and decorum. The magnificent display of ice sculptures takes my breath away, silver garland glinting on the wrought iron fences and rail that line the home.

And then there are the people.

I don’t know most of them, though I recognize Yana and Zoya, as well as Rodion’s brothers Semyon and Rafail. I’ve always struggled to remember names, so I didn’t make myself memorize more than those few.

For now.

Yana stands beside a man I don’t know, with dark skin and snappy black eyes. He has a wide, handsome, friendly face. She holds his arm with elegance. Her husband.

Zoya fiddles nervously with the red velvet edge of her sleeve. She offers me a small, hesitant smile and a little wave.

“She’s sweet,” I whisper to Rodion.

“Somebody has to be,” he mutters back.

Behind Zoya, Rafail stands like a shadow, broad and imposing. His expression is thunderous as if the permanent scowl he wears is carved into his features. Semyon lingers just a step behind, his eyes flicking between me and Rodion as if cataloging our every move.

He probably is.

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