Chapter 19
HOLLY
The silence after they leave is deafening.
I stand in the great room, watching through the windows as the last taillights disappear down the mountain road, swallowed by the swirling white. The storm is building faster than I expected.
Behind me, I hear Nikolai moving through the lodge. The click of locks being checked.
A gust of wind slams against the lodge with enough force to rattle the windows in their frames, and I flinch. My hands curl into fists at my sides as I try to steady my breathing.
It's just a storm. You're safe. You're inside.
But my body doesn't believe the lie.
The wind howls again, louder this time, and the lights flicker. Once. Twice.
My heart lurches into my throat.
No. Please, no.
"The generator will kick in if we lose power," Nikolai says from somewhere behind me, his voice calm and steady. "We won't be left in the dark."
I nod but can't find my voice to respond. My eyes are fixed on the windows, on the way the snow is already piling against the glass.
Another gust hits and I hear something crack outside. A branch, maybe.
The fire in the hearth flares wildly, the flames dancing and twisting as the wind finds its way down the chimney. And suddenly, I'm twelve years old again. Alone, with the darkness closing in.
My breath comes faster, and my chest feels tight, like someone's wrapped bands around my ribs and keeps pulling them tighter with each gust of wind.
You're fine. You're safe. This isn't the same.
But the rational part of my brain is losing ground to the panic clawing its way up my throat.
The lights flicker again, and this time they go out completely.
The darkness lasts only a heartbeat before the generator kicks in and the lights come back on, but that heartbeat is enough. That single moment of black sends me spiraling.
I can't breathe.
The room spins. My vision tunnels. The howling wind becomes the sound of metal crunching, glass shattering, my mother's scream cut short as we plunge over an embankment on the side of the road, plummeting into the darkness below.
"Holly."
Nikolai's voice cuts through the chaos in my head, but it sounds distant.
"Holly, look at me."
I can't. I'm frozen in place, my hands shaking so badly I have to press them against my thighs to try to still them. My chest heaves as I try to pull in air that won't come.
Then his hands are on my shoulders, warm and solid and real.
"Look at me, malyshka."
I force my eyes up and find his face inches from mine, those bright blue eyes locked onto me with an intensity that cuts through the panic.
"Breathe," he says, his voice low and comforting. "In through your nose. Out through your mouth. With me. Now."
He breathes in slowly, controlled, and I try to follow. Try to match the steady rhythm he's setting.
In. Out. In. Out.
"Good," he murmurs. "Again. Stay with me."
His hands slide from my shoulders to cup my face, his thumbs brushing across my cheekbones. The touch grounds me and pulls me back from the edge I was teetering on.
"You're safe," he says firmly. "You're here with me. The lodge is solid. The storm can't hurt you."
I nod, but I’m still struggling to breathe properly. Nikolai moves one hand to the back of my neck, threading his fingers through my hair.
"I've got you," he says. "I won't let anything happen to you."
The wind slams against the lodge again, and I flinch, a whimper escaping before I can stop it.
"You’re okay." His forehead presses against mine, just like last night at the piano. "I'm right here. Focus on me. On my voice. On my hands. Nothing else matters right now."
His thumb traces small circles at the nape of my neck, and slowly the vice around my chest begins to ease.
"That's it," he says softly. "Just breathe, malyshka."
"I'm sorry," I whisper, my voice breaking. "I don't… I can't…"
"Don't apologize." His hands tighten on me slightly, reassuring and calming. "Tell me what you need."
What I need is for the storm to stop. For the wind to quiet and the darkness to go away. For the memories to stop clawing their way to the surface.
But I can't say any of that. Can't explain why a simple storm turns me into this trembling, terrified mess.
Another gust. Another flicker of the lights.
And suddenly I'm sobbing.
The tears come hard and fast, ripping through me with a force that matches the storm outside. I try to hold them back but I can't.
Nikolai pulls me against his chest and wraps his arms around me, holding me so tightly I can feel his heartbeat against my cheek. It’s steady and strong and utterly calm despite the chaos raging outside.
"It's okay," he murmurs into my hair. "Let it out. I've got you."
And I do. I let it all out. The fear. The grief. The memories I've been running from for fifteen years.
"They died in a storm," I choke out between sobs. "My parents. We were going on vacation. On our way to my dad's boss's lake house. We never got to go anywhere nice. Never had the money. So this was… it was supposed to be special."
His arms tighten around me, but he doesn't interrupt. Just holds me and lets me talk.
"But there was a storm. Just like this. Wind and snow. And my dad, he was on roads he didn't know, and the car…it just…"
I break off, the words strangling in my throat. But Nikolai's hand comes up to cradle the back of my head, his fingers gentle in my hair.
"You don’t have to tell me," he says quietly.
“I want to.”
“Then take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
I draw in a shuddering breath and force myself to continue.
"He lost control. The wind just… it pushed us right off the road.
We went over the embankment and into the trees.
My parents—" My voice cracks. "They died on impact.
I was trapped in the back seat. I couldn't move.
Couldn't get out. And they were just… they were right there in the front seat, and I kept crying, kept begging them to wake up, but they wouldn't… "
A sob tears through me so violently my whole body shakes with it.
But Nikolai's arms are a vice around me, holding me together when I feel like I'm coming apart.
"It got dark," I whisper. "The storm kept going, and the snow kept falling, and I got so cold. I couldn't feel my hands anymore. Couldn't feel my feet. And I knew I was going to die there. That they'd find us all frozen together."
"Solnyshko…”
"I was so scared," I sob into his chest. "I was twelve years old, and I was so scared. I was lost and no one was ever going to find me. I couldn't do anything but wait to die beside my parents."
His hand strokes through my hair, over and over, while his other arm keeps me pressed against him.
"You survived," he says, his voice rough with something I can't identify. "You survived, malyshka. You're here. You're alive. Someone found you."
"A plow driver. He found me. But it was pure luck. If he hadn't been on that road, if he'd taken a different route…"
"But he didn't. He found you. And you survived."
I nod against his chest, my tears soaking into his shirt. The sobs are coming less violently now, my body exhausted from the force of them.
Outside, the storm rages on. The wind howls. The windows rattle. The fire dances wildly in the fireplace.
But in Nikolai's arms, I feel safe.
He walks us backward, and I realize he's moving us toward the couch. He sits, pulling me with him so I'm curled in his lap, my head tucked under his chin, his arms wrapped around me like a shield.
"Listen to me," he says, his voice low and steady against the top of my head.
"You're safe here. This lodge has weathered storms like this for a hundred years.
The walls are two feet of solid stone. The roof is reinforced steel and timber.
This place was built to withstand anything nature can throw at it. "
I nod, trying to let his words sink in past the panic.
"And I'm here," he continues. "I won't let anything happen to you. Do you understand me? Nothing will touch you while I'm here."
The certainty in his voice and the absolute conviction cuts through the last of my panic.
And I believe him.
I am safe with him.
"I've got you," he murmurs again, his hand stroking down my back in long, soothing movements. "Just breathe. Just be here with me."
So I do as he says.
I focus on the steady rhythm of his breathing. On the warmth of his body surrounding mine. On the strength in his arms and the gentle touch of his hand in my hair.
Slowly, the tension bleeds out of my muscles. My breathing evens out. The tears stop falling.
The storm still rages outside, but it feels distant now. Like it's happening to someone else, in some other world.
All that matters is this moment. This man. These arms holding me.
"Better?" he asks after a long while, his voice soft.
I nod against his chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall apart like that."
"Don't apologize. Not for this. Not ever."
His words are fierce, protective, and something warm unfurls in my chest.
“And I promise you, malyshka. I will always find you. In the snow, in the rain, and in the darkness. You will never be lost again.”
His words settle on me like a warm blanket.
Outside, the wind howls, but I barely hear it now. Exhaustion is pulling me toward sleep. The adrenaline crash combined with the emotional purge has left me boneless and heavy.
"Sleep," Nikolai says, as if he can read my mind. "I'll be right here."
I should move to my room, and sleep in my bed.
But I don't want to.
I want to stay right here, wrapped in his arms, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
So I let my eyes close.
And let the warmth and safety of his embrace pull me under.