EPILOGUE
DIMITRI
Rolan stands on a raised platform, a glass of vodka held high at a gathering between Vetrovs and Morozovs to celebrate our victory and our alliance.
After a few months of fighting, the war is over and as expected, we have prevailed.
The crowd falls quiet, and I watch my brother from my position near the back.
His face is flushed from drinking, but his eyes are sharp as ever.
"To the Morozov family," Rolan announces loudly, so that everyone in attendance at the track's banquet room this evening can hear.
"Long thought destroyed, now revealed as stronger than ever."
There is a small round of applause before Rolan clears his throat.
"And to Artemy Morozov, a tactician worthy of his bloodline and Ekaterina Morozova, who stood in the fire and proved that courage flows through every generation of her family."
The crowd erupts in approval, soldiers from both families raising their glasses.
The toast is genuine enough, but I understand the layers beneath it.
Rolan is cementing the alliance publicly, making it clear to anyone watching that the Vetrovs stand with the Morozovs.
This isn't just a military partnership.
We're family now.
I scan the crowd until I find Katya standing with Artemy, her hand resting on his arm.
Her mother stands nearby, looking overwhelmed by the spectacle surrounding her.
Anzhela has been in Moscow for only a few days, though she promises to move here permanently once her new husband finds work.
And it's a good thing to see the three of them together at last.
Katya has missed her more than she'll admit to anyone but me.
I make my way through the crowd, nodding to soldiers I recognize, until I reach Katya's mother.
She sees me approaching and straightens, her hands folding nervously in front of her.
She's fragile in a way that Katya isn't, and maybe that's what Lyovik loved about her—the gentleness and softness.
But looking at her face, I can see where Katya's strength originates.
There is iron beneath the softness.
"Anzhela," I say bowing at the shoulder.
"I wanted to speak with you."
"Of course."
She glances at Katya, who's still occupied with Artemy's conversation.
"Is something wrong?"
"No, not at all."
I gesture toward a quieter section of the pavilion, away from the main crowd.
She follows, and I can feel her anxiety growing with each step.
"I wanted to ask you something."
She stops walking, her entire body going tense.
"You're sending us away. You want Katya to leave Moscow."
"No."
I chuckle warmly.
Her protective instinct is as strong as ever.
"I want you to stay. Both of you.”
I stop too, now that we're out of earshot.
"Katya has no father to ask… So I'm…"
The words stick in my throat, and maybe for the first time in my life, I find myself inarticulate.
"Could I…"
Anzhela stares at me for a long moment, her eyes searching my face.
I see tears beginning to form at the corners of her eyes, and she blinks them back furiously.
"I spent my whole life trying to protect her from this…"
"And you did a wonderful job, Mamochka. But she's a big girl, and I can protect her now."
I pause, choosing my words with care.
"I respect that. I respect what you did for her—keeping her safe. But she's not a child anymore. She's a Morozova. And she is mine. And I want to marry her."
The way I say the last part is deliberate, and I see Anzhela understand the layers of that statement.
I am not claiming Katya in a possessive way that diminishes her.
I am claiming her as a partner, as someone I have chosen and who has chosen me in return.
"Will you stay?" I ask her.
"Will you let her have both her families—the bloodline she was born to and the life she has built here?"
Anzhela nods slowly, tears now flowing freely down her face.
"Yes. If she wants me to stay, I will stay."
"She does want that."
I know this with certainty.
"She loves you. Even when she hates the choices you made, she loves you."
She dabs at her eyes with a thumb and forefinger as I say, "And the other part…?"
Raising my eyebrows, I wait, and she takes my hand in both of hers.
Her grip is surprisingly strong.
"Take care of her… And don't you dare let anything happen to my baby."
"Always," I tell her.
"That is a promise."
I leave her standing in the pavilion and move back into the crowd.
The celebration continues, the music playing, soldiers laughing and talking.
I make my way through the chaos toward the perimeter of the track, where the floodlights light everything up making it feel like race night.
I asked Katya to meet me here when the crowd got too loud for her, and I find her there already.
She stands at the railing, looking out toward the empty track beyond.
The dirt is dark in the nightlight, and the structure feels almost peaceful in the absence of horses and handlers.
She hears me coming and smiles at me over her shoulder as she waits for me to approach.
"I talked to your mother," I tell her, strutting up to her.
I rest my hands on her hips and lean in, kissing her softly on the lips.
"About what?" she asks softly as she straightens my tie.
"About you, silly. And of course, just confirming to her that I want her to stay and keep the family together for your sake."
I lean in closer until her back is pinned to the railing and she's craning her neck up to look in my eyes.
Katya's eyes fill with tears, and she quickly wipes them away.
"I do want that. I have wanted that since the moment I realized what was happening to me."
"Then she'll stay."
I reach down and take her hand, pressing it to my heart.
"And I asked her something else."
I love the feeling of her body against mine, and not just for the sex.
It feels like safety in her arms, and I know that sounds silly coming from a man like me.
But I've finally met my equal here.
I know Katya is a precious treasure that I need to protect, but she's also fierce and strong in her own right.
And I know she will never betray me or let me down.
"Dimitri, there's something I need to tell you," she says as if she didn't hear me when I said I asked her mother something else.
Her voice is steady, but I can hear the nervousness beneath it.
"What?"
"I think I may be pregnant."
The words stop my entire world.
I pinch her chin in my hand as her head droops and make her look me in the eye.
"Are you sure?"
The surge of joy in my chest is so powerful I have to fight back a shout.
"No. Not yet," she says, her smile mirroring mine.
"But I've been feeling strange for the past few days. And I've missed my cycle."
She bites her lower lip, a nervous habit.
But it doesn’t diminish how adorable that smile is.
"I was going to do a test tomorrow, but I wanted you to know first."
My mind reels over the information.
If she's pregnant it means family, a stronger family tie than I ever hoped possible.
And it means I'm a father.
My body pulses with energy.
I want to run and shout and scream at the top of my lungs, but I force myself to remain calm so as not to scare her.
"How do you feel about it?" I ask her.
"Scared… excited. Confused sometimes."
She looks away, back toward the empty track.
"I'm not going to just sit around barefoot and pregnant, you know."
I step closer to her, closing the distance between us.
I take both of her hands, forcing her to look at me.
"I don't want you as decoration, Katya. I never have. From the moment you spat in my face that night at the stables, I have wanted you. That won't change if you carry my child. It'll only deepen."
"How can I do both?" she asks, and there is real pain in her voice.
"How can I be pregnant and fight? How can I be a mother and part of this world?"
"The same way my mother did it. The same way Anzhela did it. The same way countless women have done it throughout history."
I pull her against me, my arms wrapping around her.
"You'll do it because you are strong enough. Because you are stubborn enough to refuse to be diminished by circumstance."
She leans into me, her forehead resting against my chest.
I can feel her breathing settle.
"Now can I tell you my news?" I ask her, and I know just how to get her riled up.
She groans, then pulls away, planting the heels of her hands on the railing behind her.
"What now? More trouble?"
"Well, yes. You'll have your hands full. You're going to marry me so we'll need a wedding venue, a florist, a caterer and—"
Katya lands a jab to my gut, and I grunt and smile at her.
"What?"
"Dimitri Vetrov, this is not how you propose to a lady. Now do it right or don't do it at all."
Her arms fold over her chest as tears brim in her eyes, and I see how much she loves me.
Slowly lowering to one knee, I reach into my pocket and pull out a ring.
After everything we've been through, this is the last place I thought we'd be, but I wouldn't trade it for the riches of the world.
"Katya Volsky," I start, using the name she chose, "you've turned my entire world upside down. You've made me a better man, a stronger man, and I can't do this life without a good partner by my side any more. Will you be my wife and officially bind our families together?"
I lift the ring up, and she cups both of my cheeks, ignoring it, as she nods and lets the tears fall.
"Yes… I swear, though, it's the last time I'm changing my name."
She laughs a deep belly laugh as I lean in and kiss her stomach, then slide the ring on her finger.
We're going to have rough days ahead at times, but I know if we can make it through everything we've been through in the past few months, we can survive anything.
Together.