Page 68 of Poisoned Vows

When I start to come back to consciousness, I’ve never felt more like shit in my life.

The room is filled with a hazy dawn light when my eyes flicker open, and I realize that there’s someone in the bed with me. I have enough blankets on top of me that it’s an uncomfortable weight, and I’m drenched in sweat.

I flinch to one side, looking over to realize it’s Nikolai, propped up next to me, asleep with his head lolling to one side. He looks exhausted even in sleep—purple circles under his eyes, his face a little paler than usual. I can see the half-healed scratches on his face where I clawed him before he got out of the room.

Slowly, I try to push myself up to a sitting position. I feel weak and drained, like a kitten trying to walk, and I make it about a quarter of the way up before I slump back onto the pillows.

There’s a camp lantern and candles scattered around the room, all blown out now. When I crane my head to look out of the window next to the bed, I see an expanse of white snow that blankets everything within sight.

Next to me, Nikolai starts to stir. His eyes flicker open, and then go wide when he sees I’m awake. “Lilliana!”

The way he says my name startles me. It sounds—happy. Relieved. Like he’s been waiting for this moment with his breath held.

“What happened?” The words come out thickly, like my tongue isn’t working quite right, and my jaw is sore, as if I’ve been clenching it for days.

Nikolai runs a hand through his hair as he sits up straight. I’ve never seen him like this—unkempt and messy, still dressed in jeans, a thick sweater, and a heavy work coat. “You got lost in the woods,” he says slowly, his gaze sweeping over me in a way I’ve never seen before. It’s appraising, but not in a lustful way. It’s like he’s trying to make sure I’m okay.

“I remember that.” I rub a hand over my face, trying to remember the rest. “I think I—passed out?”

“You were close to it when I found you. I brought you back to the house and tried to keep you warm. The power went out—it’s still out, actually—and the backup generators weren’t working. Couldn’t call a doctor.”

“You came after me?” I’m not sure why that surprises me, exactly. I’m a valuable possession, like anything else he owns. He’d hardly let me be stolen or damaged or escape if he could help it. But I suppose a part of me thought that he might feel like he was well rid of me, if I died out there in the snow.

“Of course, I came after you.” To my surprise, he reaches out, gently pushing a tangled bit of hair out of my face. “I wasn’t going to let you die, Lilliana.”

The way he says my name still sounds gentle. I don’t know what to make of it.

“I’m sorry for what happened,” he says slowly. “Before. I was—too rough with you. I let it get out of hand. I can’t tell you how sorry—”

“That doesn’t change anything.” I wrap my arms around myself, pulling away from his touch. For a moment, I’d forgotten about the punishment. I’d forgotten about everything other than the fact that he’d come after me, that he looks as if he’s barely slept waiting for me to wake up. I forgot who my husband actually is. “How long was I out for?”

“It’s been two days. You ran a high fever. I thought—” Nikolai swallows, and I think I can see real regret on his face. I have to remind myself that it means nothing. That he’s a liar, a man who has trapped and hurt me. “I thought you weren’t going to make it.”

“Well, I’m alive.” I swallow hard, trying not to think about how close I really might have come to dying. Out there in the snow, exhausted and hopeless, I’d managed to convince myself that it wouldn’t have been so bad. Now, the idea fills me with a cold, paralyzing terror.

“I feel awful. I need to use the bathroom. And—shower. Is the power back on?”

Nikolai shakes his head. “No. But I can heat up some water on a camp stove for you to wash off with if you like.”

A bubble of laughter wells up in my throat that I think might turn into hysterics if I let it out. It all feels vaguely unbelievable—the idea that Nikolai, the powerful, wealthy Vasilev heir, is going to heat up water on a Coleman stove for me to take a sponge bath with, because we’re stranded out in the middle of the woods.

He gets up, stretching stiffly. “I’ll get something for you to eat, too.”

I watch him go, still feeling as if this is all some kind of feverish hallucination.How did we end up here?He’s making it hard to hate him. He has been since we came to the cabin—with the exception of when he spanked you,I remind myself. But even that—

I push away the thought of how he’d made me come with the belt. How the feeling of him thrusting into me, even though I hadn’t wanted it—I didn’t, I really didn’t—had felt so fucking good. How he always feels so fucking good.

Nikolai brings up hot water and granola bars for me, exactly the way he said he would, leaving the hot water in the bathroom so I can have some privacy. It startles me, because I hadn’t expected him to be that thoughtful.

“I’ll be out here when you get done,” he tells me, and I can feel his eyes on me as I walk to the bathroom—but it doesn’t feel as lascivious as it usually does.

What I really want is a bath or a hot shower, to just sink into hot water for as long as I possibly can and wash away all of the aches, to actually feel warm down to my bones. But anything that makes me feel cleaner is something.

I strip out of the clothes that I’ve been running a fever in for days, shivering as I reach for a washcloth and quickly sponge myself off. I wrap a terrycloth robe around myself, still shivering in the cold room, as I wash my hair with the remainder of the water while it’s still vaguely warm.

Nikolai is waiting for me in the bedroom, exactly like he said he’d be. He motions toward a glass of water next to the bed. “Drink some. I’ve been getting as much down you as I could while you were unconscious, but it was hard.”

I nod, reaching for the glass and taking a sip. There’s a strange awkwardness that’s never existed between us before. I don’t recognize this version of Nikolai, and I’m not entirely sure he recognizes it himself. He’s trying to take care of me, and I don’t think he knows how.

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