Page 162 of Silenced

But I’m not.

He’s just proving what I’ve already come to believe about him—that he’ll walk into Hell itself for the people he loves.

And, even now, he’s thinking of me, of my safety, when his mind is on a man who’s like a brother to him.

That makes it easy to reassure: “You told me so yourself, Nikolai—I was in danger before you came along.”

His mouth twists. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Didn’t say it to make you feel better. The truth hurts.” With a deep inhalation, I grab his hand. “I can’t help when we’re over there, can I?”

“No, but knowing you’re safe will be more help than you know.” He grinds his teeth then rumbles, “If anything were to happen to you, Cassiopeia…” The words wane as if he can’t even verbalize the ramifications of what would happen if I were to be harmed.

That strange warmth gathers in my chest again.

Ever since the dance with Dmitri at the gala, it’s started to become more noticeable, but today, it’s overwhelming. ‘Steals the breath from my lungs’ type of overwhelming because while I can’t end the world if anything happens to him, that somethingcould, that he might be hurt, taken from me…

The pain is worse than anything Harvey put me through.

It’s like he’s reading my mind because he signs, “I’ll make sure that you’ll have an escape route if I get—”

My fingers dig into his forearm. “Don’t say that,” I snarl. “Don’t think it either.”

He bows his head, but I know he is.

He’s too concerned for my well-being when he needs to be focused on his own.

“Nikolai?”

“Yes,solnyshko?”

I can tell his mind is elsewhere, probably on the plans he has to make, but all I can think about is him not being here.

Sure, he drives me insane. I want to shake him most of the time, and when he makes me sit on his knee when we eat in restaurants, the urge to smack him isreal.

And I know it’s crazy, probably Stockholm syndrome talking, but I have to say it, “I-I think I love you.”

That has his gaze locking with mine. Fire surges into being in his eyes, one that’s ferocious in its intensity.

Then, he banks it down and presses a kiss to my mouth. Before I can say another word, he’s there, in my ear, with that broken voice of his whispering, “I don’t ‘think’ I love you. IknowI do.”

Swallowing with the momentousness of the occasion, I cling to him as he holds me in a tight embrace.

The prospect of losing this, losinghim—

No.

Whoever thought to hurt his brother was a fool.

A fire forged him all those years ago, a fire set by the very same brother, which Nikolai used to craft them a new life that led to this orphan becoming a leader.

Nikolai is unstoppable.

I’ll go to my grave believing that.

But even so, I tug on his hand and negotiate, “You can’t expect me to travel to Russia with nothing to entertain me.”

He blinks but his lips curve—that, right there, was my intention.

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