Page 90 of Vendetta Vows

"Yes." The word carries the weight of a thousand memories. "Before she was murdered for the sin of being with me."

My head spins as pieces click together. His disownment, his visceral reaction to Tamara, the haunted look in his eyes whenever his past is mentioned.

"Tamara," I whisper before I can stop myself. "She had something to do with it, didn't she?"

His face hardens, muscles tensing beneath his skin.

The silence that follows is answer enough.

I reel at the implications, at the sheer horror of it. Tamara orchestrated the murder of an innocent girl just because she wanted Ruslan for herself. Is it all becauseshewants to have him?

The thought makes my stomach turn.

No. I can't believe that. It's too awful.

Really?Jamie Fields asks in the back of my head.You thinkthat'stoo awful? Have you forgotten that the world is filled with awful people?

But slowly, everything else shifts into focus.

Now I finally understand.

The way he watches over me. His fierce protectiveness. The shadows that haunt him. He understands what it means to have someone ripped away in the most violent way possible.

I swallow hard, processing the weight of what Ruslan's just shared with me. The brutal truth of his past. His silent admission that Tamara played a part in his childhood sweetheart's murder. All of it sits heavy in the space between us.

"Thank you," I say finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "For telling me."

Ruslan studies me, those golden eyes searching mine as if looking for judgment or pity. He won't find either. Only understanding.

A soft smile touches his lips. "Maybe it's because you've given me enough space to accept that I can tell you."

My heart flutters at his words.

"Maybe that's why we're drawn to each other," he continues, his voice low. "We recognize the same darkness haunting each other. And we want to save each other from it."

I want to comfort Ruslan. The thought feels so natural in this moment, like breathing or blinking or the way my hand fits perfectly in his. This pain he carries mirrors my own so completely that it physically hurts inside my chest.

"Come here," I whisper, not giving myself time to second-guess.

What little distance remains between us closes in an instant. His body radiates heat, solid and real against mine. I reach up, placing my palm around the nape of his neck, feeling his warmth pouring into my fingers.

"We're quite the pair, aren't we?" My voice comes out raw, honest. "Both scarred by people who believe they can lay claim to us."

His eyes lock with mine, molten gold filled with surprise at my boldness. I see desire there too.

Not just physical, but something deeper.

A need to be understood.

"And in the process, they took so much from us," I continue, my thumb tracing the hard line of his jaw. "But they don't get to take everything."

I lean forward and press my lips to his in a kiss so tender it makes my own heart ache. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me closer until I can hardly tell where he ends and where I begin.

"No one will hurt you again, Aurora," he murmurs against my skin. "I swear it."

"And no one will hurt you either," I whisper back, surprising myself with how much I mean it. "Not while I'm around."

His fingers thread through my hair, tilting my face up until our lips touch. We breathe each other's air, suspended in this fragile moment of recognition. Two broken people finding something whole in each other's damage.

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