Page 16 of Hostage of the Russian
When the professor finally dismissed the class, announcing that she’d post the reading assignments for next week online, Azriel gathered her belongings with deliberate slowness, clearly hoping to avoid a confrontation until the classroom emptied. Kostya remained seated, content to let her stew in anxiety a little longer while he observed the other students filing out, most of them chattering about weekend plans or upcoming assignments.
As the crowd thinned, a young man approached Azriel’s desk, and Kostya’s attention sharpened. Tall, conventionally handsome in that bland way of university athletes, with sandy hair and an easy smile that suggested practiced charm and the kind of confidence that came from a lifetime of doors opening easily.
“Hey, Azriel,” the young man said, loud enough for Kostya to hear clearly. “That was an amazing point about the imagery in the second poem. I never would have madethat connection between the seasonal metaphors and the protagonist’s emotional journey.”
Azriel glanced nervously toward Kostya before responding, her voice carefully neutral. “Thanks, Jason.”
So this was Jason, Kostya noted, filing the name away for future reference. The young man’s body language was unmistakably interested, his posture slightly angled toward Azriel in a way that invaded her personal space without being overtly inappropriate.
“So, about that study group for finals,” Jason continued, leaning closer than strictly necessary, his voice dropping to a more intimate register. “My place is free tomorrow night if you want to come over. I’ve got some notes from Professor Mercer’s previous exams that might help, plus my roommate’s out of town, so we’d have plenty of quiet space to really focus.”
The invitation was transparently more than academic. Kostya’s eyes narrowed as he catalogued the tells: the way Jason’s gaze lingered on Azriel’s lips when she spoke, how he’d positioned himself to block her exit from the row of seats, the casual mention of privacy and being alone. This wasn’t a study session; it was a poorly disguised attempt at seduction.
Something possessive and primal stirred in Kostya’s chest, a reaction that surprised him with its intensity. Before he’d fully processed the feeling, he was moving toward them, his steps silent despite his size, closing the distance with the predatory grace that had served him well in more dangerous situations.
“I’m not sure I can make it tomorrow,” Azriel was saying, her voice slightly strained as she spotted Kostya approaching in her peripheral vision.
“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Jason pressed, apparently oblivious to the danger materializing behind him. “Just a few of us reviewing material, maybe order some pizza afterward. No pressure, just a chance to hang out outside of class. We’ve barely had a chance to really talk this semester.”
Kostya reached them, placing a proprietary hand on Azriel’s shoulder with deliberate possession. “My wife is otherwise engaged tomorrow evening.”
Chapter 6 - Azriel
The shock on Jason’s face might have been comical if the situation weren’t so completely infuriating. Azriel watched the color drain from her classmate’s features as he processed not only Kostya’s unexpected presence but the bombshell claim that had just been dropped between them like a live grenade.
“Your... wife?” Jason looked between them, his confusion evident as he tried to reconcile the woman he’d known casually for an entire semester with this sudden revelation of marriage to a man who looked like he’d stepped out of a crime thriller.
Azriel could practically see the wheels turning in Jason’s head as he took in Kostya’s expensive suit, his predatory stillness, the way he stood with the casual confidence of someone accustomed to having his words carry immediate and unquestioned weight. This was not the kind of man college students typically married, especially not without anyone noticing.
“Recently married,” Kostya confirmed, his smile not reaching his eyes as he studied Jason with the focused attention of a hawk evaluating potential prey. “Quite the whirlwind romance. Isn’t that right, darling?”
The endearment dripped with false sweetness, and Azriel had to resist the urge to shrug off his hand, which rested on her shoulder with proprietary warmth. Instead, she forced herself to nod stiffly, her jaw clenched so tight she was surprised her teeth didn’t crack from the pressure.
“Jason, this is Kostya,” she managed through gritted teeth. “My... husband.”
The word felt foreign and bitter on her tongue, like speaking a language she’d learned phonetically withoutunderstanding its meaning. She could feel the weight of Kostya’s hand on her shoulder, possessive and controlling, a physical reminder of the invisible chains that bound her to him.
“I didn’t realize you were married,” Jason said, taking a small step back as his earlier confidence evaporated in the face of Kostya’s imposing presence. The easy charm that had characterized his approach to her completely disappeared, replaced by the instinctive wariness of a smaller predator recognizing a larger one.
“Congratulations,” he added belatedly, the word sounding hollow and automatic.
“Thank you,” Kostya replied smoothly, his voice carrying undertones that Jason clearly didn’t understand but that made Azriel’s skin crawl. “It was rather sudden. Sometimes life presents opportunities that simply can’t be ignored.”
His hand tightened slightly on Azriel’s shoulder, fingers pressing into the muscle there in what would look like an affectionate gesture to any observer but felt like a warning to her. “We’re still adjusting to our new arrangements.”
Understanding began to dawn in Jason’s eyes, followed quickly by disappointment and something that might have been concern. He glanced at Azriel, perhaps noting the tension in her posture, the careful neutrality of her expression, the way she held herself like someone trying very hard not to flinch.
“Well, the offer for the study group still stands,” he said, though his voice lacked its earlier enthusiasm. “For both of you, of course. If you’re interested in literature, Mr...?”
“Nikolai,” Kostya supplied, his smile turning sharp as a blade. “And how generous of you to extend the invitation. Though I’m afraid Azriel’s evenings are rather fully committed these days. The demands of married life, you understand.”
Jason nodded, clearly eager to escape the increasingly uncomfortable situation. “Sure, yeah. Of course. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you in class, Azriel.”
He retreated quickly, glancing back once before disappearing through the door, leaving Azriel alone with her captor in the rapidly emptying classroom.
The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken threats and barely contained anger. Azriel could feel Kostya’s displeasure radiating from him like heat from a furnace, though his expression remained carefully controlled.
As soon as they were truly alone, she shrugged off his hand with more force than was probably wise. “Was that necessary?”
