Page 53 of Unveiled

He comes with me to the bakery, sits in the corner and works, sometimes takes calls in the back. He even manages the front when I need to take a break. And he always, always makes me take a lunch break.

Stefan joins us after school, where he tells us every single detail about his day and eats a snack before Semyon askshim about his studies and how his classmates are treating him.

But beneath the pretense of normalcy… I’m wondering when he’ll make a move, when he’ll touch me again, but he’s been careful and considerate.

I remember what he said about consummating our marriage. But how can we possibly do that when he’s in one room and I’m in another?

A part of me wants that validation, wants to know he really cares about me, that he really finds meattractive.

So when his sisters invite me out to get drinks with them, I leap at the chance to get away. I mean, I’m notreallygetting away. We have bodyguards, of course. But when I see the glinting sign above the door in fluorescent lighting, my heart twists.

Wolf and Moon.

Ugh. I remember this place so damn clearly.

Yana proudly sits where her brother normally would, with a glint in her eye and bulge by her side that tells me she’s just waiting for someone to fuck with us.

The bar is loud and noisy, but I let myself sink into the chaos. In a world of perfectly ordered events, it feels nice to let loose a little, to let the burn of alcohol soften the edges of my frustration. Yana drinks like vodka’s water, her sharp eyes scanning the room. Rodion’s wife Ember laughs beside them, relaxed and at ease.

“How’s married life treating you?” she asks suddenly, tipping her head back to take another shot. The question isalmost too casual. I get the distinct feeling they’re on my side, but they want to be sure I’m okay.

I force a smile. “Fine.”

Yana smiles sadly. “Liar.”

“Hey, come on,” Ember says, elbowing her playfully. Her red hair is in a messy bun, her eyes bright. “Let her enjoy her night. She doesn’t want to talk about your emotionally stunted brother.”

I laugh, but it’s forced. Because I remember a night just like this, years ago, only I was a girl and Semyon broke my heart.

“I’m sorry, Anya,” Zoya says, shaking her head. “I know it’s going to take time. He’s not…Semyon’s so driven by duty, he somehow forgets that the people in his life are, in fact…well, people.”

I shake my head and drown my sorrows in another drink, envious of Yana’s high tolerance for liquor, Zoya’s calm, and Ember’s happy marriage. I’m determined to prove myself. I drink a shot. A glass of wine. Another drink, followed by another, until the memory of the past blurs and I’m laughing right along with the others.

Untilhestands in the doorway.

“Your husband’s here,” Ember says, too soon, her eyes twinkling. “I’ll be sure to bring those books when we meet.” Ember’s promised me a few reads to occupy me at the next family dinner.

I hug them all goodbye and take my sweet time walking—or, more accurately, half toppling, to where my husband waits.

He kisses my cheek. I move away, the memory of the night he hurt me vivid. I turn from him, nearly stumbling.

“Anya. How much have you had to drink?”

I shrug. “Lost track.”

And fuck you.

He half carries me to the car, swats my hand away when I try to open my own door with a frown, then fastens my seat belt. The cold leather feels good against my heated skin. And still… I want to cry.

The drive is quiet at first—too quiet. The warmth of the alcohol makes my cheeks feel too hot.

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yes. They’re excellent company.” I hope he hears the note of sarcasm in my voice. “Theyhug me.”

I look out the window. I don’t care if I sound like a child. The lights feel too bright, my emotions too close to the surface.

“Unlike some people I know,” I whisper. My voice sounds slurred, but it cuts through the silence.

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