Page 41 of Heritage of Fire

I dip my head downward and duck back out the door. A security guard standing across the hall gives me a nod, and I bolt to the back of the house where I saw a patio from the upper floor of my room.

I push through a set of double doors and instantly get hit with crisp spring air. There’s a pergola to my left, its wood covered in climbing vines. An outdoor lounge sits underneath. I move across the slate pavers toward it, pulling my hands up into my sweater’s sleeves. Once seated, I lean back, inhaling a deep breath through my nose as I tuck my legs up beneath me and cross them.

“Whatcha doing?”

I jump, untangling my legs and snapping my head in Nik’s direction.

“Sitting. You?”

“Exploring,” he deadpans.

I can’t help but roll my eyes.

A smile works its way across his lips, and he gestures to the spot next to me. I blink and scoot over, dragging a hand through my hair and pulling it over one shoulder.

“I’ve always loved it here; so peaceful and quiet.” His chest expands on a sigh.

“Do you come often?”

“Not as much as I’d like. Luka and I used to come a lot with our fathers when they had business over here. But ever since his father died and he inherited the responsibilities of pakhan, we haven’t had as many trips. At least, not ones that bring the party.”

I soak in his words and gobble up the information. Clinging to any insight into who Nik really is. I want to ask more questions, but I settle on listening.

“My father moved back here after Vladamir Morozov died. Luka was kind enough to let him retire back home, but he still manages things for us here.”

“Do you miss him?”

Nik’s face pulls tight into a frown, and he stares off into the trees, seemingly at nothing. I bite my tongue and wait for him, giving him however long he needs.

“At times,” he finally says. “I don’t think I truly understood all the pressure he was under, serving the pakhan as second, until that job fell to me.”

He still isn’t looking at me, and I wish he would.

“And your mother?”

Nik flinches but answers all the same. “My mother left when I was young. She couldn’t handle his devotion to the Bratva, so she left us—me.” His jaw works back and forth and the tattoo on his lower neck pulses.

His reaction to the photo flickers through my mind, and a vice grips my chest. His mother left him, and I practically threw that picture in his face.

Unspoken pain soaks through his words, and his eyes seem to simmer with resentment. I find myself wondering which would be worse: a mother who leaves, or a mother who stays—but is continuously bitter and critical of her daughter.

I don’t have the right words to ease his hurt, but I offer a truth of my own.

“Seems we both have selfish mothers. Mine doesn’t care much that I exist; except for when she needs to use me.”

Nik continues to stare into the forest, but a faint, comforting brush against my thigh quickens my breath, and I watch as his fingers trail lightly across my leg before landing back in his lap.

I clear my throat and reach for him, dragging his face toward mine. His trimmed facial hair catches on the sleeves of my knit sweater as I pull away. His eyes are wide as he watches me.

“It’s her loss, Nik.”

A low hum emanates from deep in his throat and his nostrils flare. His gaze darts back and forth, roving over my face.

“Well, it’s a pain I’d rather not experience again,” he mutters.

Chapter 18

Luna

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