Chapter 16 #2
“Yes.” She stepped onto the bottom rung of the ladder and pushed with her foot, just a little bit. “Oh my god. Yes.”
It rolled again.
“Tatyana, you’re supposed to—”
“Shhhhh, shh, shh, shh.” She put her finger to her lips for a second, then placed her hands on the side of the ladder and pushed off with a great kick, lifting her foot to ride along the ladder rail…
And completely forgetting that she had vampire strength now.
Tatyana let out an audible “Whoop!” as the ladder zipped down the front of the bookcases, coming to a stop when Oleg’s hand reached out and grabbed it.
“You’re going to break it and possibly yourself if you let it reach the end of the rail at that speed.”
“Worth it,” she murmured. “And I’m not going to break myself. I am going to need a very large yellow dress and…” She gestured to him. “Clearly I already have a beast glaring at me, so—”
“What are you talking about?”
Her jaw dropped. “Don’t tell me you don’t know.”
He looked vaguely angry. “Clearly not.”
“It’s okay, we can watch the movie.” She waved a hand at him, then fisted her hands on her hips and looked up, letting out a great sigh at his stern expression. “What?”
“I don’t want you to break the ladder.”
“No, that’s bullshit.” She frowned. “You’ve been irritated since I arrived. What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you happy?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. “I’m happy.”
“Clearly so happy.” She matched his stance. “Now that you have everything you want, are you losing interest?”
The thought was an old, twisted fear that had curled in the pit of her stomach and festered all night.
Their relationship was no longer a secret. Yes, they would have to appear indifferent in public, but now Oleg had complete access to her. He could come and go in her life as he pleased, and no one would question it.
There was no challenge anymore. No danger.
“Bored already?” she whispered. “I noticed that our day chambers upstairs were separated by two very large dressing rooms. Even now that we’re married in the eyes of the whole world and you know I’m more vulnerable during the day than you are, you still—”
“Shut up,” he snapped. “You know nothing.”
Tatyana took a step back and lifted her chin. “No.” She shook her head. “You don’t speak to me like that. Not now and not ever.”
Her heart was in her stomach and her chest was physically aching as she turned and walked away from him. His blood in her veins roared in anger and yearning pain, and she nearly turned around, but she refused. She’d probably get lost trying to find her way back to—
“Stop.” Oleg was in front of her before she could blink. “I should not have said that.” He took her hand and put it on his chest. “What punishment do you desire?”
She pulled her hand away, and everything in her body recoiled at the thought. “I don’t desire punishment, Oleg.”
“Apology then.” His jaw looked like it would break. Oleg hated to apologize, and she could count the number of times he’d forced himself to do it over the past five years on one hand.
Three. It was three times. Total.
“I feel the hurt in your blood, and it is because of my words,” he said carefully. “I would make it right with you.”
She kept her voice at the level of a whisper. “I want to know what is wrong with you. I want to know what has happened in the week that we have been apart that has made you so cold.”
But even as she said it, there was nothing cold about his eyes. “Fine.” He took her hand and nearly dragged her out of the library.
They returned to the second floor of the palace, but this time they walked past the glittering double doors that led to the knyaginya’s quarters and down a long hallway, past the double doors of the knyaz’s rooms and into what looked like a dead-end hallway with a decorative table holding a set of three elaborately jeweled eggs under a display light.
Tatyana blinked. “Are those—”
“Yes.” Oleg turned to the right, glanced around to make sure they were alone, then pushed a pink painted flower carved into the wall.
A hidden door slid smoothly to the side.
In less than a second, they were in what appeared to be a tiny closet, and then the hidden door closed. As it did, a low light illuminated a series of combination locks.
“Zero, eight, seven, nine.” He glanced at her. “My birth year, or my best guess at it.”
He spun another lock. “One, nine, eight, nine. Your birth year.”
“That’s too obvious, you should change it.”
Oleg moved to the next lock. “Of course, by the time the second lock is open, I will have already been alerted to anyone trying to break into my day chamber.”
“Oleg—”
“Zero, three, zero, five.” He smiled at her. “Rex Harrison’s birthday.”
A nod to the pigeon she’d used to escape from him the first time? Only Oleg.
The door swung open, and Oleg stepped in first, then she followed him.
Tatyana was confused by what she saw. Then she was furious.
“Someone tried to kill you?” Low rage simmered in her blood. “When? Who? Was it Ivan?”
The room looked like a firebomb had gone off in it. The wallpaper was scorched, the drapes covering false windows were black tatters, and the linens and curtains around the four-poster bed were blackened from fire.
“Not Ivan.” He turned in the wreckage of what must have been his day chamber. “Me.”
She froze. “What?”
There were clear signs that some cleaning had taken place, and there was a makeshift bed in one corner that had been rehabilitated. He was clearly still using it for his day chamber, and someone—possibly him—had started stripping off the burned wallpaper.
Oleg pushed on one poster of the bed, and the fire-scorched wood cracked in his hand. “I’ll have it redecorated. Maybe wrought iron would be a better choice.” He chuckled. “More heat tolerant.”
“This isn’t funny.” She was frightened. Had this happened in his sleep? She’d heard the terrifying stories of fire vampires losing control and burning themselves alive, but never in her imagination had she thought it could happen to Oleg. He was too controlled. Too careful.
“The citadel is better for me,” he said casually. “The air is damp. Though Saint Petersburg is normally quite humid, so it must have been a very intense fire.”
“What are you talking about?” She walked to him. “What happened?”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “Nothing but a bad dream, wife. But for now we shall continue sleeping separately. I cannot risk—”
“Did you forget my element?” She snapped her fingers at him, and in a moment her hand was drenched, the water in the air drawn to her skin. “Oleg, I should be with you in case—”
“And what if you do not wake in time?” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Do you think I would take the chance? I like the snapping, by the way.” He winked at her. “Very sexy.”
“I know what you’re trying to do.”
He was trying to distract her, trying to seduce her so she wouldn’t worry about him, but Tatyana would not be deterred.
A dream? What kind of dream would cause an inferno like this? She turned in circles, trying to imagine the horrors her mate must have seen in his very long life.
879 AD. “My birth year, or my best guess at it.”
Eleven hundred and forty-six years of life, most of it lived under a monster who used him as a weapon.
Eleven hundred and forty-six years of life, all of it holding together the closest thing he had to a family, gripping the bloody shards of his sire’s empire and fusing them into something resembling one of the beautiful works of art he pieced together from broken glass and ruined stone.
And all while wearing a crown of melted steel forged by his own flesh.
Bloody tears came to her eyes.
“What is this?” Oleg’s voice was gruff. “Stop this, Tatyana. You’ll make me angry if you cry.”
“Shut up.”
“Ah.” He lifted a finger as he walked in front of her.
“If I cannot tell you to shut up, neither can you tell me to shut up. You’re correct—it’s rude.
” His jaw was tense as he roughly wiped the tears that fell down her cheeks.
“This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I don’t want you to worry about me.
Don’t you know I am too arrogant to die?
Especially by my own fire. That would be truly humiliating. Mika would never let me forget it.”
He removed a silk pocket square from his suit pocket and used the red silk to dab at her eyes, brushing the silk along her cheeks.
She closed her eyes. “My love, have you ever known peace?”
Oleg froze.
Tatyana swallowed hard, blinking back more tears that wanted to flood her eyes.
“Yes.” He leaned down, pressing a soft and careful kiss to her trembling mouth. “I have.”
Tatyana wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tightly. She pressed her cool fingers to the burning skin at his neck, the only sign that his emotions were running high.
“You must tell me,” she said. “Even when you think it will upset me. Tell me, Oleg. I am your mate. I want to know.”
“Your ears are too unspoiled to hear my burdens.” He turned his head and kissed the tip of her ear. “And you have your own—”
“This is my wedding present.” She leaned back and looked him square in the eye. “You asked me five years ago what gift you should give me, Oleg Sokolov. This is the gift I choose.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “The burden of my past is no gift to anyone.”
“I don’t need to know everything,” she said. “I’m not demanding all your secrets. But this?” She looked around the room. “Do not keep things like this from me. Not now. Not ever.”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “Not for a hundred years?”
She stood on her tiptoes and nipped at his lower lip with her dull front teeth. “Do you really think I’ll be finished with you by then?”
The fire in his eyes was the only thing that brought her comfort.
In that moment, she wanted him proud.
She wanted him arrogant.
Tatyana wanted him to be the most infuriatingly clever, wily, and conniving vampire that walked the earth.
Because he was hers.