Page 49 of Avidian
I blink, taking in the scene. It looks like an old ranch sprawling across an enormous piece of land, so isolated I can’t see a neighbor in any direction.
There’s a large, weathered main house, several smaller cabins scattered about, a barn, and a stable. The entire place feels rooted in a time long gone, but it’s charming in its way.
“You live here all alone?” I ask, surprised at the sheer size of the property. It’s no mansion like Viktor’s and not a fortress compound like Marco’s, but there’s a warmth to it, even in the freezing cold.
Malachi shakes his head. “No, I don’t own the ranch, but I do call one of those cabins home.” He gestures toward a modest log house tucked further back.
We pull up in front of the largest building, which I assume is the main house. Malachi gets out and opens my door for me. I hesitate briefly then follow him up the steps. He doesn’t bother knocking and pushes the front door open like he owns the place.
The moment we step inside, I’m hit with the unmistakable smell of something baking—apple pie? It’s comforting, and I take in the cozy interior. The living room is filled with inviting couches and well-worn armchairs, and the warmth from a potbelly stove radiates through the house.
“Malachi, are you really home?” A woman’s voice catches me off guard. I turn to see a tall, athletic woman with dirty-blonde hair stride into the room. She walks right past me and wraps Malachi in a tight embrace.
“Aunt Irina,” Malachi says warmly, returning her hug. My eyes widen in shock.
“Aunt?” I whisper, but he catches it. He steps back and smirks, clearly amused.
“Katja, this is my Aunt Irina—my father and Viktor’s younger sister,” he says casually, as if this isn’t a bombshell.
I blink at him, and the full weight of the revelation settles in. The Volkov brothers have a sister? I never once heard her mentioned—not by Marco or anyone. How does she fit into all of this?
I extend my hand, forcing a polite smile. “Nice to meet you. You can call me Kat.”
Irina shakes my hand firmly, her expression warm. “It’s a pleasure, Kat. Welcome to the ranch.”
“Oh, she can call you Kat right away, but I still get shit for it?” Malachi teases, clearly enjoying himself.
I shoot him a sharp look, making it very clear I am not in the mood for jokes—not until someone explains what the hell is going on.
“Why don’t you take Kat to get settled and come fill me in on everything as soon as you can. I’ll make some coffee. You both look exhausted,” Irina says, and I’m surprised by how kind she sounds. Not fooled by what I’m sure is an act, I offer her a polite smile and let Malachi lead me back out to the truck.
He drives us to his cottage, which isn’t far. We could’ve walked, but with all the luggage and the snow, I can see why he chose to drive. The cottage is charming from the outside—a log cabin with a round stained-glass window centered above the front door.
“Come on, make yourself comfortable,” Malachi says as he hauls the bags inside.
I take a look around, and it’s perfect—cozy and simple. There’s a cobblestone fireplace with a large fur rug spread out in front of it, and a loveseat that makes me want to sink in with a good book. There’s also a couch, a small dining table with chairs, a breakfast nook, and a clean kitchen.
“Let me give you a quick tour,” he says, motioning for me to follow. He takes me down the hall and shows me the bathroom—nice enough.
Further down the hall, he opens the door to a bedroom. “This is my room. I can take the couch, or if you’d rather, I can find you a guest room in the main house,” he offers politely, almost too polite.
I cross my arms, raising an eyebrow. “You’re saying you’d rather be uncomfortable than share a bed with me? Wow, Malachi. That’s a real blow to my ego.”
He lets out a low chuckle, leaning against the doorframe. “Oh, don’t worry, demon. It’s not you. I assumed you’d want your own space. You know, considering how much you dislike me most of the time.”
I glance past him into the room raising an eyebrow. “What about Lana? She seemed pretty cozy with you at the party. Won’t she be upset when she hears you’re bunking with another woman for weeks?”
His jaw tightens slightly, but the flash of annoyance is quickly replaced by amusement. “There’s nothing going on with Lana. Or here for that matter. So no one has anything to worry about.”
I step into the room, spinning to face him with a sly grin. “Nothing going on here, huh? You sure about that? I mean, what if I sleepwalk and accidentally end up on your side of the bed? Or worse, snore so loudly it drives you crazy?”
He smirks, leaning into the doorway. “I’ll risk it. But if you drool on me like last time, all bets are off.”
Heat rushes to my face, and I point a finger at him. “I do not drool!”
Oh God, I did drool.
“You definitely do. But it’s not the worst thing. You’re cute when you sleep,” he says, and I can’t tell if he’s teasing or serious.
