Chapter 10
Hazel & Viktor
Hazel
Something yanked me out of sleep.
My body screamed before my mind even caught up. Something hard as iron clamped around my throat. Tightening. Inch by inch.
I opened my eyes. Moonlight leaked through the curtains, painting a pale strip across the carpet. Just enough to see what was on top of me—Viktor.
His whole body pinned me down. I couldn't move my legs. Couldn't move at all.
And his hands were around my neck.
Ten fingers closing in.
He was killing me. Viktor was going to strangle me.
I opened my mouth to scream. Nothing came out. My throat was crushed. Just a rattling wheeze leaked through.
I clawed at his wrists, trying to pry his fingers loose. His muscles were steel. Didn't budge. My thrashing meant nothing to him.
No. I can't die here.
Pure survival instinct made me bend my legs and drive my knee into his stomach. Viktor's body jerked.
I seized that split second and rolled sideways, finally breaking free.
I scrambled to the corner of the bed, back pressed against the headboard, curled into a ball. Cold air rushed into my windpipe. I clutched my throat and coughed violently.
Every cough felt like a blade slicing through.
But even out of his grip, my heart wouldn't settle.
If Viktor wanted me dead, I had no way to stop him.
I stared at the man in the center of the bed, ready for him to come at me again.
But Viktor didn't move.
He lay on his back, eyes shut tight, brow twisted in a knot. Thrashing against the sheets like something invisible had him trapped.
He wasn't even awake.
But awake or not, he'd almost killed me. I couldn't stop shaking. Fear had me locked down.
I should go. I told myself. While he's still trapped in that nightmare, I should get off this bed, out of this room.
Anywhere else. Just keep myself safe for what's left of the night.
I shifted my legs, ready to leave.
"Isabella."
The name broke through, almost a sob. I couldn't believe it came from Viktor.
That raw pain hit me straight in the chest.
I couldn't leave him alone.
I bit my lip. I was doing it again. I could never stand watching someone fall apart in front of me.
I let go of my knees and sighed, abandoning any thought of escape. I got on my knees and crawled toward him.
My body still shook from the strangling, from the fear. The closer I got, the more I felt the heat radiating off him.
I stopped beside him and reached out with a trembling hand, carefully pressing down on his broad shoulder.
The second I touched his skin, Viktor's body violently rejected it. His right arm swung up and slammed into my wrist.
The force made me gasp.
But I ignored the pain in my wrist and moved forward, reaching out with both arms to cradle his sweat-soaked head. I crossed my legs and let his heavy head rest on my lap.
"You're safe." I leaned down, my voice soft but steady. "It's over. You're safe now. No one can hurt you."
I felt like I was holding someone who'd completely lost it.
Viktor gasped against my lap.
His cold sweat soaked through the hem of my robe, the wet chill pressed against my skin. He kept struggling. His jaw knocked into my thigh, sharp and painful.
I didn't care. I tightened my arms around his head with everything I had.
I kept stroking his back, running my fingers through his sweat-drenched hair.
"I'm right here." I kept murmuring. "You're not in that dangerous, terrible place. It's okay. It'll pass."
I poured all my warmth into him. I tried to use this raw, physical contact to quiet the bloodshed raging in his head.
Time dragged in the dim bedroom.
I don't know how long I held him. Long enough for my arms to go numb and sore. Long enough for my back to scream from staying locked in place.
But I never let go.
Because I could feel him changing.
Viktor's rigid muscles loosened, bit by bit. His harsh, ragged breathing slowed. Each inhale and exhale stretched longer.
I looked down at the man in my lap.
His eyes were still shut. But the agony carved into his face was gone. His furrowed brow smoothed out. The cold sweat stopped.
He looked calm now.
I finally let out a long breath.
The bedroom went quiet. Just the sound of our breathing tangled together.
I stared at his face, lost.
Normally, I was too scared to even look at him. He always stared at me with that cold, brutal gaze, his presence suffocating.
I always kept my head down, avoiding his eyes.
But now, with his eyes closed, all that menace stripped away, I could finally study him.
No matter how many times I'd seen it, this face still made my heart race. That dangerous beauty pulled you in even when you knew you should run.
His features were sharp, carved deep. High cheekbones, straight nose. With his eyes closed, his long lashes cast a faint shadow in the hollows, making him look less violent, more exhausted.
A strand of silver-gray hair, damp with sweat, curled against his forehead, covering a small patch of skin.
Without thinking, I reached out to brush it away.
The second my hand touched him—
His eyes snapped open.
Viktor
I opened my eyes to Hazel's anxious face.
She was leaning over me. One soft, warm hand rested on my forehead.
I quickly understood the situation.
I was lying in Hazel's lap. Her legs were crossed beneath me, my head cradled against her, and she was studying me closely, her hand still on my forehead.
This intimacy made me deeply uncomfortable.
To me, sex was physical release. A transaction where I bought access to her body. Cuddling afterward, touching like this—that wasn't part of the deal.
This crossed a line. I didn't let anyone touch me like this, like they were protecting me.
Without hesitation, I lifted my head from her lap, sat up quickly, and put distance between us.
"Miss Brooks, what are you doing?" I asked coldly.
I needed my harsh tone to shatter this intimacy that made my skin crawl.
Hazel's face turned bright red. She jerked her hand back from my forehead and twisted her fingers together awkwardly.
Clearly mortified by my sudden interrogation.
She tried to explain.
"Nothing." She rushed to deny it, her voice hoarse and rough. "You were restless. You kept struggling in your sleep. I was just worried, so I..."
She trailed off vaguely, not daring to meet my eyes.
I followed her jawline down and locked onto her neck.
Across Hazel's pale, delicate skin, there was a glaring mess of red and purple fingerprints.
Those marks, combined with the bloody nightmare I'd just had, made me realize exactly what I'd done.
In my sleep, I'd strangled Hazel. The bruises were deep. She must have been terrified.
But even so, after breaking free, she didn't run.
She chose to settle me down. Put my head in her lap and tried to comfort the lunatic who'd nearly killed her.
I looked at her still-nervous face and felt a rare pang of regret for my harsh tone.
"Sorry. I had a nightmare."
Hazel patted her chest, visibly relieved.
"What was it about?" she asked carefully, a hint of concern in her eyes.
I dodged the question. No intention of answering.
Instead, I dropped back down and put my head heavily in Hazel's lap again.
Hazel jumped at my sudden move. She stared at me, shocked and flustered, her hands frozen mid-air with nowhere to go.
Lying there, I felt her thigh muscles tense. I knew my behavior didn't fit my usual pattern.
But I didn't want to examine why I'd laid back down.
I just knew I'd already paid for this.
"This pillow's pretty good." I closed my eyes, my tone flat. "Best money I've spent in a while."
Hazel fell into embarrassed, bashful silence. I felt her breathing quicken. The heat coming off her body climbed.
After a long pause.
"Glad you like it, Mr. Gromov," Hazel answered in a tiny, shy voice.
I opened my eyes again, looking up at her face from below.
"Call me by my name."
In the darkness, I couldn't see much, but I felt her tension. Her breathing spiked, creating a charged atmosphere in the dark.
Her reaction entertained me.
I suddenly discovered the enormous fun in teasing this girl.
Only now did I really see her youth. Her timid behavior had made me forget she was the same age as Anya.
That realization sparked a desire to toy with her.
I raised my right hand and placed it on the sensitive inside of her thigh.
Hazel's body jerked. She sucked in a sharp breath.
"Has anyone told you, you smell good?" I traced slow, suggestive circles on her skin with my finger.
"No... no one," Hazel stammered.
"Sweet." I kept sliding my finger upward, inching toward the edge of her robe.
The darkness amplified every sensation.
I heard nothing but her increasingly ragged breathing. I saw nothing but felt the skin under my fingertips burning, trembling slightly.
Hazel cut me off, her voice shaking.
"Viktor, don't."
She said my name.
I loved hearing her say my name in that hoarse, pleading tone.
The air in the room turned thick and scorching. We were so close.
I could smell her intoxicating scent clearly. I felt her thigh muscles react violently under my touch.
That reaction lifted my mood absurdly high.
I stopped.
Enough teasing for tonight. I stilled my finger and laid my hand properly on her leg.
Then I closed my eyes.
I felt the warmth from her thigh, and in Hazel's embrace, I drifted back to sleep.