Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Xeniya Morozova
Ifelt the bark against my skull and curled my toes into the grass.
What the fuck had just happened? And more importantly, what did I do now?
I ran my palm down my face and let out a soft cry. His face was devastated—pure devastation like I had rejected something he had wanted for so long. Was it even possible that he’d wanted it that long?
Wanted me?
My chin lifted to the sky, and I stared up at the nearly full moon.
And you will never want me back.
His words played over and over and over again in my head. He thought I’d never want him back. He cared that I didn’t.
I swallowed. My throat and heart felt raw.
I needed to fix this. I needed to talk to him and understand what he had meant by that, but he wouldn’t answer his phone or text me back, even though I had called him ten times.
So what could I do?
If I went over to his house, would he already be with someone else? There was never a moment when girls weren’t over at Zeta. He could have gone home, chosen any random girl, and fucked her.
And could I walk in on that?
I held my head in my hands before rubbing my temples.
I was going to have to risk it because we had to talk about what just happened.
So very, very slowly, I lifted myself and made my way back through campus to try to find my heels before walking—with them in my hand—to Hyde Park and the Zeta Rho Kappa fraternity house.
I didn’t have to open the door because when I got there, it opened in my face, and a couple of drunk girls fell out of it, laughing, making their way home from whatever they had been doing.
As I said, there were always girls at Zeta.
I stepped aside to let them stumble their way off the property.
As I walked in, everything stopped. The music. The conversation. Every eye on me.
That was when I realized I looked like a mess. A concerning one.
And I was now faced with the guys who cared most for me in the world—except Severin.
My best friends—and twin brother—stared at me.
It wasn’t a huge party—only six guys and a couple of girls, but all six were my friends.
My brother spoke first. “What the fuck happened?”
He stood up quickly, dropping the girl from his lap without a second thought, and he stormed over to me.
“Did you get into a fight?”
“Are you okay?”
Kaz and Maks’s voices overlapped.
“You were on a fucking date.” Kaz stepped up to me as my brother took my chin and inspected my blossoming bruises. “Did he do this to you?”
Severin didn’t even try to land a punch, but the ground had done the work for us.
“I am going to kill him. Who was it?” My brother turned to Kaz.
“No, no, it wasn’t him.” My resistance crumbled.
“Then who the fuck was it, Xen?” Ilya asked.
I had to give it to them—they were all protective of me, not just my brother.
I averted my eyes. How the hell was I supposed to tell them any of it?
Severin punched my date. I ran from him—triggering his primal desires—then I hit him, and he took control, dominating me on the grass of the quad.
He touched me, crossed every line, and my body still betrayed me. Because maybe I didn’t have any lines when it came to Severin Volkov.
Maybe I’d let him touch me however he wanted.
Because I fucking wanted it. I craved it. Craved him.
And then I fucking froze and ruined everything.
There was no version of that I could explain—especially not to my brother.
“Who?” my brother snarled, still holding my chin.
Kaz placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Let her go, Ilya. This isn’t helping.”
Ilya dropped his hand, but he didn’t step back. “I hope to God he looks worse than you do right now.”
The “he” in question probably felt worse, but he was a mountain, and I was sure he barely had a bruise.
“Where’s Severin?” I asked, looking around.
“He’s not home yet.” Maks stepped up to my other side, leaving me boxed in by my brother and my two closest friends.
Because Severin wasn’t a friend anymore, I didn’t know what he was, but he wasn’t a friend.
My eyebrows scrunched together. “He’s not home yet?”
It’d been an hour since he’d left me.
Fuck. Where was he?
“Answer the fucking question, Xeniya. Who do I have to kill?” My brother crossed his arms in front of me.
“No one, Ilyusha, it’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.” Kaz pulled a twig out of my hair.
“You’re covered in dirt and bruises.” The vein in Ilya’s forehead pulsed.
“I started a fucking fight with Severin because he punched my date.”
The controlled calm splintered into noise, voices stacking, cutting, and refusing to give way.
Ilya stepped back. “You what—”
“He did what—” Kaz cut in.
Maks blinked. “You went on a date?”
“Of course she went on a date—she can date,” Kaz said with a sharp laugh.
“No, she can’t.” Ilya crossed his arms.
Maks made a face. “It’s just—that would be like dating a corpse. She’s so cold and uninviting—”
I gasped.
“But she’s hot—“
Ilya glared at Kaz. “She’s my sister. Don’t make me kill you.” His gaze dropped to the bruise forming on my cheek. “Do I have to kill Severin?”
“Oh, God, no, Ilya. He didn’t even hit me. He just blocked and contained me. If anything, you should kill me for punching the Pakhan’s son.”
Kaz shook his head. “Well, sometimes the Pakhan’s son deserves to get punched.”
“I know, right?” I bit my lip. “I was hoping he’d be here because I need to talk to him.”
About fucking everything. From the way he touched me to the words he said.
And you’ll never want me back.
Ilya crossed his arms and tensed his jaw. “Well, I have no idea when he will be back, but when he is, we are going to have a few words.”
“You will not.” I crossed my arms, mimicking him.
Kaz stepped closer and pulled another twig from my hair. “I think she should shower and get changed and maybe we can talk about this after.”
Ilya growled low in his chest but let Kaz walk me out of the living room, up the stairs, and to his suite. He began rifling through his drawers, finding clothing for me to wear after the shower.
“I really don’t think I should take a shower in your rooms, and I definitely don’t think I should wear your clothes.”
“Oh, no?” Kaz lifted a manicured, very knowing eyebrow. “Why not?”
I cocked my head and narrowed my eyes. “You know.” I sat down on his bed. “He will kill you if I smell like you.”
“It would drive him craz—”
“Stop, Kazikha.”
My tone was harsh. It was so rare with him that Kaz froze in his tracks and stared at me. He let out a long sigh and dropped the clothing he had gathered into his chair before walking over to me, sitting down, and grasping my hand.
He squeezed, the gesture meaning, What’s wrong?
“He tried to kiss me.”
His gaze locked on my face, tracking my every micro-expression. “Tried?”
I averted my eyes and dragged my thumb over my knuckles. “Well, he kissed me, but I didn’t kiss him back?”
“Why not?”
A hollow laugh escaped me, no humor in it. “I don’t fucking know how, and I freaked out. I was surprised, and I am not like all of you. I don’t fuck around. I’ve never been kissed, and it felt so important and big—”
“And you froze.” He gave a quiet, measured nod.
I threw up my hands in frustration before dropping them back into my lap. “I don’t know what the fuck I am doing, and I ruined everything.”
He rubbed his thumb along his jawline. “And you didn’t want him to leave?”
“No.” I exhaled through my nose, my shoulders tightening. “I… I… he’s—” I had no fucking idea how to finish the sentence. I had no idea what I wanted Severin to be to me.
I wrung my hands. Fear stretched up my fingers like a spider weaving its web around them. Severin meant too much, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. What would happen if we did fuck and he left me like he left every other girl?
And what if he didn’t?
What if he actually wanted me?
It was impossible. His father had already sent a man to try to kill me in the Gauntlet for being too close to Severin, and that was before we were ever romantically entangled.
If we dated, his father would kill me. He already thought the Morozovs held too much power within the Bratva.
If I married Severin, it would strengthen our House far beyond what Aleksandr would ever allow.
Not that marriage would ever be on the table.
“You love him.” Kaz shifted closer and grabbed my hand again, stilling my intense rubbing.
I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. So I just shook my head no. I didn’t love him… I mean, I did, but not like that, right?
Right?
Oh, fuck. I didn’t know. I had never truly wanted someone else. Never. Yes, I’d flirted with Mikhail, but that was meaningless. It had always and only been Severin for me. But… but wanting someone was never enough.
Kaz cocked his head, his eyes soft and concerned. “You know, if you need someone to teach you how to kiss, I’m always willing to help a friend out.”
The tension in the room snapped.
“Shut up.” I chuckled and punched him in the shoulder. “You think that’s going to be helpful?”
A playful smile rose on his lips. “Of course not. But it would be fun.”
“How do you think that would make Nika feel if she found out you kissed me?”
His eyebrows drew together. “Why would she care?” he said far too quickly, trying to wave away the words completely.
“So you’re still going to pretend that you have no feelings for Nika?”
Kaz glowered at me and pulled his hand away. “You know, I can’t figure out which one of us is the pot and which one is the kettle.”
“Oh, I am definitely the kettle.” My lips rose into a soft smile. “I am certainly never going to be a pot.”
Kaz smirked and ran a hand over the back of his neck.
“I should shower in his room and wait for him there.”
“Yes, because you are boring and no fun.”
“If I’m so boring, why am I your favorite friend?”
He stood and offered a hand to help me up. “Because I am eccentric and fun enough for both of us.” He winked.
“You mean loud and annoying,” I said under my breath, taking his hand.
He yanked me up, not so gently. “You know, you’re trying to get into another fight with one of your friends… two in one night is a lot.” He laughed and shook his head. “Now go shower with his soap, dress in his shirt, and wait for him in his bed. He’ll love that.”
I huffed. I wasn’t sure if Kaz was being serious. Would Severin like that? Or would he be angry?
But I showered, dressed in his clothing, and slid into his bed.
After scrubbing all the dirt off me and out of my hair, I raided Severin’s dresser and found a T-shirt and boxers to change into.
Then I climbed onto his bed and sat cross-legged, waiting for him.
And I waited and waited…and nothing.
My gaze drifted to the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. It was 12 a.m. Of course, Severin’s bougie ass had a grandfather clock in his bedroom… at college. However, “bedroom” wasn’t the appropriate word for it, since it was a full-on primary suite.
I continued waiting and waiting, trying not to fall asleep, but 12 a.m. turned into 2 a.m., then 3 a.m., and at some point after that, I lost consciousness completely.
All I recall was extreme heat, tossing and turning, and unintentionally snuggling into his pillows.