Page 34 of Stalked & Bred by the BRATVA
“You are free,” I tell her. “The rest of your life begins now.”
She turns and puts the scrap of silk into my hand. I wrap my fingers around it and then around her waist, drawing her against me until the mirror shows what I know is true.
Her past does not own her.
I do. And I will spend the rest of my days proving that means safety before it means anything else.
Sarah
I never thought safety would feel like this.
It isn’t soft or quiet. It doesn’t come wrapped in a smile or tucked inside gentle words. It’s solid and unshakable and built from the way Mikhail fills a room without asking permission. The way he looks at me like he’s already made every decision that matters.
And I’ve stopped pretending I don’t want it.
I’m still standing in front of the mirror when he takes the scrap of blue silk from my hand and wraps his arm around my waist. I can see us reflected together, his chest broad and unyielding in a dark grey T-shirt behind me, his palm spread over my hip, his eyes locked on mine like no one else exists. The girl I was a month ago wouldn’t recognise herself. She’d think I’d been taken over.
Maybe I have.
He tilts his head down so his lips brush my ear. “You’re mine now.”
It isn’t a question. It isn’t a request. And for once, the thought doesn’t send me running to hide. It settles in my bones, steady and warm, like it’s where I’ve been heading all along.
But still, there’s this tiny, stubborn part of me that needs to know. That needs to hear him say the thing I’m almost too afraid to ask.
“Mikhail?” My voice sounds small, even though I try to make it stronger.
He doesn’t answer right away. His hand slides up my side, over my ribs where the bruises are finally fading. His touch is careful there, almost reverent, and it makes my chest ache in a way I’m not ready to name.
“Tell me,” he says, and it’s not gentle but it’s not unkind either. It’s command wrapped in concern.
I swallow hard, keeping my eyes on our reflection. “What if you change your mind?”
His entire body stills. The arm around my waist tightens like he’s bracing himself against something that might knock him over.
“About you?” His voice is lower now. “Impossible.”
“You don’t even know me,” I say, though it sounds weak even to my own ears. “Not really.”
He turns me in his arms so I’m facing him. The scrap of silk is still crumpled in his fist, but his other hand cups my jaw, forcing me to meet his eyes.
“I know you keep your perfume on the right side of the sink, not because you care where it is, but because you like feeling in control of something. Even something as small as a free sample.”
I blush, ashamed that I’ve never been able to purchase myself anything special.
“I know you hum when you iron, but you stop if anyone walks into the room. I know you still flinch when a door closes too hard, but you try to hide it like it’s shameful instead of proof you survived. And I know…” He leans in closer, his mouth a breath from mine. “I know you’re mine, even if you’re still learning what that means.”
My throat tightens and I hate that my eyes burn. I don’t want to cry. Not now, not when he’s looking at me like that.
“You’re so sure,” I whisper.
“Because I don’t waste time doubting what I want.” His thumb strokes over my cheekbone, slow and deliberate. “And I want you. All of you. The scared parts. The stubborn parts. The parts you don’t let anyone see. They’re all mine.”
It’s the tenderness in his voice that does it, the softness I don’t think he gives to anyone else. It wraps around me just as tightly as his arms, making it impossible to hold myself apart from him.
I press my forehead to his chest and breathe him in. Cedarwood and leather and something darker, something I can’t name. His heartbeat is steady under my ear, strong enough that I feel it in my own chest.
“You’re not going to let me go, are you?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
