Page 47 of Chained Fate
Always ready for me.
“Come here,” he says hoarsely, pulling me to my feet, and what follows is the closest we’ve ever gotten to making love.He explores and worships every part of my body, finding erogenous areas I didn’t even know I possessed—like the backs of my knees and the undersides of my breasts.I come twice before he enters me, and when he does, he fucks me so tenderly it makes me want to weep.And I come again.And again.Until I’m utterly wrung out yet unwilling to close my eyes for fear that this is just a dream, that if I fall asleep and wake up, we’ll be back to what we were instead of… what we are becoming.
So I stay awake even as the light fades outside, day transitioning smoothly into night.Lying on my side, I trace circles on his chest, studying his intricate dragon tattoos in the dim light of the bedside lamp he’s flipped on, and we still don’t speak.Not really.Nothing beyond a few sex words and my reassurances that I’m okay, that I’m still not too tired… though I definitely am.
Finally, I break the silence.“So why the dragons?”
I asked him this on the yacht, and he brushed me off with some bullshit answer.I wait to see if he’ll do that again, but he sighs and says, “It’s stupid.Just a children’s fairy tale I used to like.”
I lift my head off the pillow to look at him.“What kind of fairy tale?”
He’s staring at the ceiling, not meeting my gaze.“A generic one.Nothing special, really.My mother used to read it to me when I was little, and after she was gone, I… read it to myself for a bit.”
His mother.My chest squeezes.“What was it about?”
He lets out a huff of air.“Dragons, what else?And a prince and a princess.Like I said, generic and unimaginative.I don’t even remember the title of that story.”
He’s lying again.The story was special to him.Special enough that he’s subjected himself to hours upon hours of needle torture to carry it on his skin.
“What did the dragons do?”I ask softly.“Were they heroes or villains in the story?”
“Villains, of course.”His dark eyes glint as he turns his head to look at me.“Aren’t they always?Their job was to die.The prince needed to slay them in order to win the princess’s hand in marriage and her heart.”
“Ah.And were they hard to slay?”
“Very.”His mouth twists.“It took him many years, but he finally succeeded.”
I sit up, holding a corner of the blanket against my chest to keep myself warm.“Did he?”
The glint in his eyes intensifies.“You tell me.”
We’re not talking about a fairy tale anymore.Maybe we never were.
My first instinct is to avert my gaze, to pretend I don’t understand the question.And before today, that’s what I might’ve done.But things are different now.I can no longer see him as the demon who’s haunted my life for so long.
He’s all too human, his pain and grief all too real.All too familiar to me.
Despite what I’ve told myself over the years, Alexei Leonov is not a cruel monster.Or at least that’s not all he is.
“I…” I inhale deeply, holding his gaze.“Yes.I think he did.”
Something moves in his eyes, a peculiar tension tightening his jaw.“Is that right?”
I nod, fighting the urge to look away, to deny the truth.That’s what I’ve done for years.Maybe even for the full decade-plus that we’ve known each other.I’ve told myself he’s too much like my father, too much likehisfather.Over and over, I’ve reminded myself that he’s ruthless and dangerous, manipulative and obsessive, a lethally possessive killer with no conscience—and he is all of those things.But he’s also loyal, and caring, and…mine.
The word comes out of nowhere, but as it settles into my mind, I feel the truth of it, the sheer inevitability.
He’smine.
Mymonster.
Mydemon.
Myruthless stalker.
When I thought he no longer wanted me, it was like being diagnosed with cancer all over again.
So instead of hiding from it, I take a deep breath and say what I haven’t dared to admit even to myself.
