Chapter 31
ADRIANNE
To my astonishment, we were standing at the entrance to the maze.
It rose before us like a giant, straight out of a fairy tale or maybe a horror movie.
Towering hedges, heavy with snow, the branches reaching toward a sky full of stars.
It should have been beautiful. Instead, it felt ominous tonight, like the entrance to another world where mundane rules didn’t apply.
My eyes scanned the length of the bushes while the cold night wind bit into my flushed cheeks, stealing my breath and making my lungs ache.
But Nikolai’s hand was warm in mine, grounding me, and I would have followed him into a blizzard if he asked. Again.
“I thought you didn’t want me to even think about the maze.”
“Because it felt like you were prying into the scarred parts of my soul. This was my mother’s creation. Something she nurtured and cared for, with the sole purpose of keeping me and my sister away from the monsters while immersed in a fairytale world.”
My hand curled around his arm, bringing myself closer to him. I could see the pain in his furrowed brows, the way it hurt to talk about them.
Almost imperceptibly, Nikolai shook his head, ridding himself of that vulnerability that was too raw for a man like him to show for too long.
“Stay close,” Nikolai said, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me against his side. “And pay attention. You need to learn this path.”
“Why?”
“Because, if anything goes wrong tonight, this is where you run.” His voice was steady, but I heard the fear underneath. “This is your escape route.”
My stomach twisted, but I nodded. “Okay.”
We entered the maze, and immediately the world changed. The wind died. The sounds from the house faded to nothing. It was just us, our breathing, and the crunch of snow and earth beneath our boots.
“Left at the rose bush,” Nikolai said, pointing to a withered plant, barely visible under the white blanket. “See it?”
“Yes.”
“Say it back to me.”
“Left at the rose bush.”
“Good.” We kept on walking while Nikolai gave me instructions on how to get to the center, “Right at the split oak.” He gestured ahead to where a massive tree trunk divided in two. “Always take the right fork. Never left.”
“Right at the split oak,” I repeated, committing it to memory.
We moved deeper, and with each turn, I felt the weight of descending into something sacred. The maze was more than just a structure; it was a secret, a puzzle designed to protect what lay at its heart.
What lay at her heart.
“Straight through the hedge gap.” Nikolai stopped at what looked like a solid wall of branches. But when he pushed them aside, I saw the narrow opening. “You have to turn sideways. It’s tight, but you’ll fit.”
I squeezed through, the branches catching on my hoodie, scratching my hands. On the other side, the path opened up again.
“Then left again at the fountain.” He pointed to a small stone fountain, frozen solid and covered in snow.
“Left at the rose bush. Right at the split oak. Straight through the hedge gap. Left at the fountain,” I recited.
“Perfect.” He kissed my temple as we kept going.
“Why did your mother make it so complicated?”
“To keep us safe. Me and Anya.” His voice was different here, like he’d regressed to who he was when he needed this place.
“My father thought it was a waste of space and resources. Never bothered to learn the route. Which meant it was the one place in this entire estate where we could be free of him.”
My heart cracked open at the image. A young Nikolai and his sister, hiding in their mother’s maze, stealing moments of peace in a house full of violence.
We reached the final turn, and Nikolai stopped. “Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Trust me. Close your eyes.”
I did, and he took both my hands, leading me forward slowly. I heard the creak of a door opening, felt warm air rush over my skin, the floral scent hitting me full force.
“Open them.”
When I did, I completely forgot how to breathe.
We were inside the butterfly dome, a whole other world where spring had stood still and bloomed. Glass and iron wrought into a spherical structure, where hundreds of butterflies survived the winter. It was a sanctuary.
I turned slowly, taking in every detail. Monarchs in various stages of transformation. Chrysalises hanging like jewels, catching the moonlight. Butterflies emerging with wet, crumpled wings. Others fully formed, resting on vibrant plants or fluttering through the warm, humid air.
“Oh my God,” I breathed. “Nikolai…”
“Come.” He squeezed my hand and pulled me further into this paradise.
The temperature was perfect, warm and humid, a stark contrast to the winter cold outside. The butterflies barely stirred as we entered, used to human presence.
This was so much more than just a greenhouse. There was beauty, yes, but there was hope and peace, a belief in transformation, despite the pain that had it built.
A butterfly landed on my shoulder, its wings opening and closing in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. Orange and black, delicate and impossibly perfect.
“My mother spent years on this.” Nikolai’s voice was soft and reverent. “Imported the plants, studied their lifecycle, created the perfect environment. She said butterflies represented transformation. Hope. The possibility of becoming something more than what you were born to be.”
Tears burned behind my eyes as more butterflies landed on me. My arms, my hair, my hands. Like they recognized me. Like they knew I belonged here. Like they knew Nikolai belonged here.
“This is where you came to hide,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “You and Anya.”
“For hours. Days, sometimes, when things got bad.” He moved deeper into the dome, to where a bench overlooked a small fountain that trickled softly. “She’d bring us food, tell us stories, make us feel safe. And my father never found us. He never even bothered to try.”
“Because he didn’t care enough to learn the path.”
“Exactly.” He sat on the bench, and I followed, butterflies still clinging to us like living jewelry. “Every other route in that maze leads back to the perimeter. Spits you out at the edges. Only this path leads here. And only people who know it can reach this place.”
“Why are you showing me this?” I turned to face him. “Your most sacred place.”
“Because I need you to know how to get here.” He cupped my face, his thumb stroking my cheek. “If tonight goes wrong, if we get separated, if Vladimir’s forces breach the house and you need to run. You come here. You follow the path exactly as I showed you. And you wait for me.”
“Nikolai…”
“Promise me, Adrianne. Promise me you’ll come here if you need to.”
“I promise.” I covered his hand with mine. “But I’m not going to need to. Because we’re both going to make it through this.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It was sad and broken, hopeless. “I want to believe that.”
“Then believe it.” I moved closer, straddling his lap, my hands framing his face. “Believe that we get to have more than this. More than a dream inside a nightmare.”
“I love you,” he said, the words raw and honest. “In case I don’t get another chance to say it. I love you, Babochka. More than I thought I was capable of loving anyone.”
The tears finally spilled over. “I love you, too. So much it terrifies me.”
“Good.” He kissed me, slow and deep. “Fear means you have something worth fighting for.”
“Make love to me,” I whispered against his lips.
“Adrianne.”
“Please.” Slowly, I pulled the hoodie over my head, baring myself to him. “I need this. Need you. Before whatever comes next.”
Nikolai’s eyes darkened as they roamed my exposed body, burning with need and a kind of devotion I haven’t seen in anyone’s eyes.
“Nothing in this world could stop me from giving you what you want.”
I pulled down my leggings before extending my hands to take his and guide him to stand. Nikolai towered over me, imposing and powerful and all mine. Those pale eyes bore into mine, not saying a word, but the way he looked at me was heavy with meaning.
His big, strong hands came up to cup my face before he kissed me.
Tender and slow, each movement of his lips made to disarm me, consume me, and ruin me.
My fingers worked on his shirt’s buttons, undoing one by one as we kissed.
When I pulled it off his shoulders, I took a moment to admire the perfection that was him.
Sculpted like art, with scars that made him real, I reveled in the image before me.
Never in my life would I think this was the man I’d fall for. Tattoos spoke about his troubles and victories, muscles that could carry me for days, a mouth so dirty and obscene I blushed just thinking about those crass words that never failed to make me melt.
Never in my life would I think this was the man who would fall for me.
Perfect.
Imperfect.
Ruined and broken.
Heavenly, despite his indiscretions.
I kissed his chest, my hands feeling every mass and every dip of his toned body. Nikolai’s hands were still buried in my hair, but he wasn’t directing me this time. He was grounding himself through me. Enjoying the open-mouthed kisses I trailed down his torso.
My fingers buried in his waistband before starting to unbuckle his belt and pants. I looked up at him again, my breath catching in my chest at the sight of him. I had no idea blue could burn as hot as fire.
Nikolai bent to kiss me before hooking his thumbs in his pants and underwear and pulling them off. Proud and tall stood his erection, waiting to be buried in the place it belonged. I wrapped my hand around his length, stroking slowly, watching his eyes flutter closed.
Without a warning, Nikolai picked me up, turning around and taking a seat on the bench again. Our lips connected naturally. They belonged together, now. I lifted my hips, searching for the tip of his cock with my entrance, clenching once it finally poked at the place I needed him the most.
“Slow, Babochka.”