Page 41 of Avidian
“And you’re full of surprises,” I quip, still grinning as I settle back against the pillows. “Maybe I’ll borrow it when you’re done. Seems like a real page-turner.”
“Not a chance,” he says, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, that half-smirk making a brief reappearance.
For once, the tension between us feels a little lighter, and I can’t help but think that maybe this night isn’t a total disaster after all.
“Are you tired? What time is it? Do you think they discovered that Aurora and the boy are missing yet? Do you think Marco confronted Viktor about Eduard?” I ask, my thoughts spilling out in no particular order.
“I can see that bath really gave you a second wind,” Malachi says, amused. I reach over and swat his chest lightly.
“I’m not tired, and it’s only 11 p.m.,” he answers, leaning up to check the clock on the bookshelf. “I don’t know if they’ve discovered the Avids are missing yet. The party will probably go on until the early hours of the morning, so it’s very possible they won’t realize until then.”
He pauses, his expression hardening slightly. “As for my father... I don’t know what he’s going to do. But either way, Eduard deserved to fucking die.” His jaw ticks as he speaks, and I peek over at him, unsure how to respond. “What were you thinking tonight, getting in a situation like that?”
I avoid his gaze, staring up instead. I didn’t mean to steer the conversation back to this.
My eyes stay fixed on the ceiling, as if the wooden beams above could offer me an excuse or a way to justify my actions. “I saw an opportunity, and I took it. That’s what I have to do.”
“You don’t have to do anything like that,” he counters, frustrated. “You think throwing yourself into the lion’s den is the only way to get results?”
I finally look at him, and the way his dark eyes search mine makes my chest tighten. “What do you want me to say, Malachi? That I planned to let it go that far? That I wanted to let him touch me to get information?” My voice shakes, and I hate that it does. “Do you know what it’s like to be me? To constantly weigh every action against what’s expected of me? To know that no matter what I do, it’s never enough and I’ll never be free?”
He stares at me for a long moment, his jaw still tight. Then he sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “No, I don’t know what it’s like to be you,” he admits. “But I do know you don’t have to put yourself through hell to prove anything to anyone. Fuck my father and brother and the entire Volkov family.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “You make it sound so simple.”
His hand moves to mine, brushing against it lightly before pulling back as if he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch me. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, Kat,” he says quietly.
I shake my head and sit up, pulling my knees to my chest. “I wasn’t trying to prove anything to you,” I say. “I was trying to survive, Malachi, like always.”
“I promise I’m going to get you out of here, free of my family. You’ll have a life of your own one day. But until then, promise me you won’t be reckless.”
Malachi sits up and reaches out, his hand brushing my back briefly until I finally turn to face him. “Don’t ever do what you did tonight again. I don’t care if you’re trying to get information to save someone’s life. It’s not worth it. What if I hadn’t gotten there in time and?—”
I stare at him, confused.
I’ve seen so many different sides of Malachi tonight, and this one throws me off the most. Why does he care what I do or what happens to me?
“If you didn’t get there in time,” I say, keeping my expression steady and cold, “then I would have fucked him and gotten the location of the Avids, and he’d probably still be alive right now.” I bury the sensitive side of me that’s trying to claw its way to the surface.
Malachi leans back, his head hitting the headboard with a soft thud as he exhales sharply. “I take it you’re experienced in using your body to get what you want,” he mutters, staring across the room, his expression unreadable.
“You have no idea.” I stand, pulling back the covers before climbing into bed, deliberately keeping my movements calm and indifferent.
Little does he know, I’m a twenty-three-year-old virgin, and the closest I’ve come to kissing a guy in years was that night in the park—with him.
I turn on my side, facing away from Malachi, and focus on Mischka. It takes only a moment before she appears at the end of the bed, her tiny tail wagging as she does a few excited circles. I call them scuttle-butts because of the way she tucks her butt in like something’s about to chase her. It’s a Boston Terrier thing.
I can’t help but smile, holding back a laugh as Mischka finally settles, climbing up to lie on her side right against my chest. Her comforting presence lifts the weight of the evening a little.
I start to relax, assuming Malachi has fallen asleep.
But sleep is impossible for me. My mind races with questions after everything that’s happened tonight. I want to see Aurora again, to find out where she’s been all these years, if her powers have changed, and if she’ll be okay. I reach out, running my fingers along Mischka’s ghostly fur in slow, soothing strokes.
“What are you doing?”
I freeze, my hand stopping mid-motion. “What do you mean?” I ask, trying to sound casual, but my heart skips a beat.
“You’re doing that weird spell shit again,” he says, his voice closer than I expected.
