10. Kira
KIRA
The rain hadn't stopped in two days. I sat on the window seat with my knees pulled up and watched it streak down the glass in uneven lines, merging and splitting apart like it couldn't decide where it wanted to go.
I related to that more than I wanted to admit to myself, or anyone else, for that matter.
I felt fractured, like only a part of myself.
I knew my father knew exactly where I was because Nikolai had told him.
Yet, here I was, with no one coming to my rescue or fighting to have me back.
It hurt and I didn't know how to express that, or whom to tell.
Nikolai obviously wasn't the right person.
After all, he'd been the one to take me and lock me up, which only proved he was worse than my father.
I sighed, turning away from the window, and sank onto the foot of the bed where a whole stack of clothes sat piled so high, I could barely see over it.
There were dresses and blouses and leggings and jeans and sweaters in every size from too small to way too big, like someone had walked into a department store and grabbed one of everything off the rack without bothering to check sizes.
Anya had made me try a few things on, but when I found a pair of dark jeans that were only slightly loose in the hips and a gray sweater that fit well enough across the shoulders, I stopped.
I didn't need a wardrobe. I needed a way out of here to go home.
The rest of the pile sat untouched on the foot of the bed where the maid had left it.
I knew it was supposed to be a kind gesture from Nikolai, but it felt like adding insult to injury.
He thought he owned me, which I resented.
But seeing as I was still trapped in his bedroom with no way out, it sort of felt like he owned me.
And maybe he was just treating me like a pet.
I didn’t chase him out of his own room so he bought me gifts? I didn’t know how to think about it.
The door opened and I looked up to see Anya waddle in with a tray of food.
She had a warm smile, and after several conversations over different meals, I'd come to understand she was really a kind-hearted woman.
Though still very much Nikolai's pawn, she wished things weren't the way they were.
It was the only reason I was patient with her.
"I've got a snack for you…" She cheerily set the tray on the bedside table but frowned at the stack of clothing that was relatively untouched. "I see you've found a new outfit." Her hands weaved together in front of herself, but I wasn't in the mood for pleasantry.
"Not hungry… And you can take the clothing? Half of it's the wrong size."
Ignoring my comment about the clothing, she said, "You need to eat something, Kira. It's been two days again."
"I said, I'm not hungry."
Anya frowned, and I felt bad making her worry or feel concerned.
I'd learned previously that she had a child at home too, which made her a mother and gave her that motherly sense of duty and compassion. It was a good quality for a woman to have, but I didn’t need a mother, least of all like her.
I needed my mother—if she even cared enough to notice that her daughter had gone missing.
"You're going to make yourself sick."
"Good. Maybe he'll take me to a hospital and I can tell a nurse I've been kidnapped."
The maid sighed hard and scooped up an armful of clothing, though she let a few things remain on the bed.
And she left the tray with the snack she had put together for me sitting too, which I refused to eat.
Or maybe not so much refused as much as resisted.
I didn’t feel hungry. Depression had firmly taken root over the past three weeks that I'd been locked up, effectively killing any desire to eat or even live.
And it wasn't like Nikolai was so horrible. I honestly thought the more time I spent around him, the more he was growing on me. The man I fell for, who had swept me off my feet, was in there still, hiding behind the monster. But I had to refuse and resist him on purpose, according to principle.
I went back to watching the rain and thought of how Nikolai had slept with me in bed every night since that first time.
And every time he did, I pretended to be sleeping, but it was impossible to sleep through him wrapping his body around mine.
We never had conversations because he never started one and I was getting good at feigning sleep, but I had learned a lot about him, like the fact that he snored.
And he talked in his sleep sometimes too—random things and violent things.
And once, he was mumbling nonsense in a frightened tone.
But he forced me to have dinners with him in his dining room, and twice since that first night when I locked myself in the bathroom, he'd brought up the idea of my marrying him again. It sickened me, and I told him no, but I got the sense he wasn't asking. He was telling.
The rain started to let up a little, and I heard a car door shut out front, but I didn't get up to see who had arrived.
Then the bedroom door opened again but it wasn't Anya this time.
It was Vlad, standing in the doorway with his shoulders squared.
After so long of living around here, I was finally starting to learn all their names, and Vlad was the one I felt most comfortable with. That didn't mean I liked him.
"Boss wants you downstairs," Vlad rumbled, but I didn't move from my perch and I let my eyes shift back to the window.
"Tell him I'm busy."
"He's not asking. He's telling." Vlad stalked a few steps into the room and I looked up at him.
I considered telling him exactly where his boss could shove his request, but there was something different about the way he was standing there.
He looked stiff, almost uncomfortable, like whatever was waiting for me downstairs wasn't the usual dinner summons.
I would always get sick of being ordered around, but fighting him would only make things worse.
I'd end up being carried down there or tied up or something.
Or worse—if Niko came up here to get me, I'd have to deal with his nasty attitude and he'd get handsy with me again.
Which only ended up turning me on instead of making me mad at him.
In order to preserve my dignity, I uncurled myself from the foot of the bed and followed him out. The jeans felt strange after weeks of wearing nothing but Niko's boxers, and the sweater was a little too warm. I felt myself starting to sweat as I followed the guard down the stairs.
But Vlad didn't take me toward the dining room. He turned left at the bottom of the staircase and led me down the hallway toward the back of the house, past the kitchen, to a room I'd never been inside, where he opened the door and stepped aside and I walked in.
Niko stood behind a desk wearing a dark suit, with his hair combed back, and a bright blue tie. He was devastatingly handsome, and it made my stomach drop before I even registered the other man in the room.
He was older, maybe sixty, with thinning gray hair and a less fancy dark suit that was faded at the elbows.
He held a small leather-bound book in his hands and had a sadness in his eyes, which I felt was directed at me for some reason.
I felt confused as my eyes traveled from the older man's face to Niko's.
"Kira," Niko said. "This is Father Albert. He's a friend of mine."
My brain connected those dots so fast, I felt the blood drain from my face and my ears started to ring. There was no way in hell I was letting this happen. I turned and started to walk away, but Vlad was planted in my path toward the door, glaring at me.
"No."
"Kira—"
"Absolutely not. No. You're insane." My hands were up as I spun around, glaring at Nikolai with all the hatred I could muster.
He came around the desk, and I backed up until I hit a bookshelf and was forced to stop. He stopped a few feet from me and put his hands in his pockets like we were having a casual conversation.
"Kira, this is happening today," he said calmly. "It's already been arranged."
"I won't do it. You can't force me to marry you," I blurted out, frantically looking to Vlad or this priest for help. But Vlad might as well have been a statue, and the priest's head hung. He clearly knew this was wrong but had no choice either. Maybe Nikolai had threatened him or something.
"I can and you will…" When Nikolai reached for me, I jerked out of his way, not allowing him to get ahold of me. "I need you to cooperate."
"Fuck you," I hissed, but this time when he reached out for me, I couldn't dodge him. What I did do was double my fist and punch him in the gut, which was futile. His abs were rock hard and I was weak from not eating. He wrangled me over to the center of the room by his desk and nodded at Vlad.
When I saw the gun come out, I reeled around and glared at Nikolai in sheer terror.
"You wouldn't," I said to Niko, but my voice came out as a squeak.
"I don't want to. I'd rather you just saw things my way. But one way or another, this is happening."
Father Albert was staring at the floor and I could see his discomfort. He knew this was wrong. Everyone in this room knew it was wrong, and they were going to do it anyway.
"It won't hold up," I said desperately. "No court will recognize a marriage performed under duress."
"Oh, I have credible witnesses, right, Albert?" Nikolai's words made the priest's head rise and he nodded in agreement.
My battle with emotion was lost and the tears spilled down my cheeks.
I wiped them away angrily with the sleeve of my sweater, but more kept coming.
I felt so powerless, so completely and utterly trapped, and worse than that, I felt abandoned by my own blood.
My father wasn’t even trying to save me from this.
He had all but given me to Nikolai, so it didn’t matter where I looked for help. There was none.
Father Albert spoke to Nikolai more than me, talking quietly but hastily, like he'd been paid to truncate the entire ceremony. There was no warmth or compassion in any of his words or his tone, and twice I tried to turn and barge out but was quickly reminded of Vlad and his gun pointed at me.
When it came time to sign, Niko placed the document on his desk and held out a pen, which I refused to take.
"I told you no. I'm not signing anything. I didn't say 'I do', and I do not consent to this." I glared at the priest, who looked away from me, out the window. "Did you hear that? I do not consent to this."
But Nikolai didn't care at all. He lowered the pen to the desk where on the document he scribbled something that looked similar to my signature. It wasn't close enough to fool anyone, though.
"Congratulations, Mrs. Dragonov," Niko said quietly, and it made my stomach lurch.
Bitter resentment burned in my throat as I spat, "I hate you." But not for the first time, Nikolai chuckled at me and curled a hair around my ear.
"Gentlemen, you may leave. Give me a moment with my wife, please.
" He held my gaze while talking and glanced away only briefly as the door clicked shut.
I hugged my arms over my belly and sniffled as he turned back to me.
"Being my wife protects you in ways you don't understand yet.
The world your father bore you into is a dangerous one, but no one touches a Dragonov wife. "
"I'm not your wife."
"Legally, you are. And publicly, you will be by morning.
" He lifted an eyebrow at me and pursed his lips.
I was beginning to get sick of that cocky expression, but I didn't dare try to slap him again.
Every time I did that, he'd pin me against whatever surface was nearest to us and try to get me to kiss him.
"You forged my signature… No one is going to believe you."
"Your father's had three weeks to come get you and he hasn't." When he tried to wipe a tear away, I took a step backward. "All I'm asking you to do is consider who's actually looking out for your future right now, Kira. Because it isn't him."
My lip trembled while I tried to think of a protest, but words failed me.
I wanted to scream at him that he was wrong, that my father loved me, but he was right.
Three weeks of silence were hard to explain away.
If my father wanted me back, he had the resources to make it happen, and yet he hadn't come.
Not a single attempt. Not even a message.
I slapped Niko so hard, my palm stung, and I stomped to the door, but when I threw it open, I nearly ran into Vlad in the hallway. He grabbed my arm before I could get past him and I thrashed against his grip, screaming at him to let me go, but it only made him grip me harder.
He dragged me for a few steps before turning to fling me over his shoulder, which was how he carried me all the way back to the bedroom where he dropped me on the bed, and before I could even get to my feet, the door was shut and the lock was set.
It didn’t stop me from launching myself at that door to bang and scream, the same way I'd done for the first three days of being here. Except this time, I knew for better or for worse, no one was coming. I was alone in the dragon's lair, and no matter what I did, he owned me.
No one was coming to save me.