Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
NATALIE
We were gone within ten minutes. There were questions.
Oh, boy, were there questions eating away at my mind, but Nikolai didn’t give me the chance to ask them.
He practically dragged me to the front seat of the SUV and closed me in.
I could only stare out the passenger window while they took turns loading duffel bags to the back.
And with each one added, a new knot formed in my stomach.
The cramp was unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
It was as if all of my organs were twisting in different directions.
I did my best to ignore it, only wincing when the car jutted forward and the boxes slammed against the second row.
We drove off, the abandoned factory at a distance in the rearview, and unanswered questions leaving a bitter taste on my tongue.
“How did this happen?” Dimitri asks, inspecting the wounds on the man in bloody military fatigues in the backseat. I didn’t get his name, only watched as Dimitri carried him to the bench row and hoisted him in.
“One of the mutts snuck up on me,” he says dismissively.
I turn around and peer at him. Pain deepens the harsh lines of his forehead, and his cheeks and neck are rich with stubble and sweat. “How did you get away?”
The man scoffs. “Please, princess. It take more than a mutt to stop Alexey Sarkov. Oh, and big man,” he says, smirking at Dimitri rifling through the first aid kit. “Last one brought grand total to eleven.”
Nikolai tightens his grip on the steering wheel and judging by the veins appearing on his tattooed forearms, he’s inches away from ripping the wheel from the dash.
“Call her a princess again,” Nik growls and veers off the uneven terrain to fresh pavement.
The entire car tilts to one side, settling back on all fours violently.
“And I’ll be happy to finish what that mutt started. ”
A wide, toothy grin emerges, the front teeth coated red.
“I mean no disrespect, Nikolai. You, werewolf prince. Her, your princess.” Alexey waves his arms in the air, wincing when he lifts them above his head.
He makes it a point to wink at me, and continues, “Now, if I said please, beautif— Ahh!” he screams as Dimitri empties nearly half the bottle of rubbing alcohol on the claw marks lining his stomach.
I purse my mouth tight but can’t stop the laugh from escaping me. “Nice to meet you, too, Alexey.”
Dimitri unravels the gauze and begins wrapping it around his midsection. “Your tattoo,” he says, pointing at the black letters below the wounds. “Is this Latin?”
“Da,” Alexey seethes. “It means hurry the hell up before I bleed out.”
I turn back and manage to stay upright despite the pain in my lower stomach.
The best way I can describe the sensation is foil on a capped molar, but that might even be a luxury at this point.
Every inch of my body constricts, cutting off what circulation I had before they loaded this SUV with things only God might be privy to.
I don’t know what it is, but I know my insides don’t agree with their travel choices.
Vomit sits ready at the back of my tongue, waiting for the checkered flag to decorate the expensive passenger floors a new shade of green.
“It’s the silver,” Nikolai says curtly, and reaches into the side panel. When he lifts his hand, there’s a bottle of water he wastes no time uncapping with his teeth. “Drink. It’ll help.”
I take it from him and draw a few sips. The liquid slides down my throat easily enough but seems to simmer at first. Then, the water reaches a rolling boil as it hits my chest. I choke.
I spit. I make the most embarrassing sounds I’ve ever made, somehow outdoing Alexey howling in the backseat.
When I finally manage to swallow down what I can, I cough out a “Thank you.”
He simply nods and stares forward.
I sit with my hands folded in my lap, doing little else than watching the trees pass by in a blur.
The bite still hurts, but the parts where Viktor’s teeth cut the deepest no longer radiate a sharp discomfort in my ankle.
This is either good … or really bad. Sure, the pain fading into the background is great and all, until you consider why that might be.
It means I’m healing.
Not the same way a human might recover after a few days’ rest and a strict antiseptic cleaning routine.
I’m healing because I’m not the same Natalie that was hauled into the Vostik compound.
Viktor made sure of that. One bite. That’s all it would take.
The memory of his threat sends chills up my spine.
What would my brother think about you then, hmm?
His little pet becoming the one thing he hates about himself?
He knew he couldn’t stop me from escaping, so he gave me something I couldn’t outrun. A curse.
I glance at Nik, wondering how true Viktor’s taunts might’ve been. Is this why he couldn’t even look at me when he grabbed the water? Why it seemed almost painful at the factory to speak to me? I tried not to notice, but the difference in how he acts toward me now is clear.
As if reading my mind, Nik takes his hand off the steering wheel and places it on my thigh.
I don’t flinch or push him away. No, I invite the familiar heat to spread from my leg through my entire body like wildfire.
It’s the only thing that feels normal. Natural.
Here I am on a street I can’t pronounce, traveling through a country not on my bucket list of travel destinations.
I need something, anything to make this high-pitched ringing in my ears lose a decibel.
“Don’t do that,” he says, his brow knitting together.
“Do—what?” I stammer.
“Trap yourself in your own head.” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, the bright gold reflecting off the windshield. “Talk to me.”
In an instant I’m transported back to his loft above Club Volk, moments before our first kiss.
He knew how I was spiraling then, and even now, it seems my old habits die hard.
I’m not sure if it’s some supernatural intuition or the way my heart can’t manage to sit still, but he knows. He always does.
“Why isn’t the silver hurting you?” I deflect.
A small grin emerges as he gives my thigh a light squeeze. “It does, but I’ve built up a tolerance.”
“Tolerance?” How in the hell can someone build up a tolerance to this? I can barely breathe, let alone talk without my windpipe shriveling. But he gives no signs of discomfort. No, the only discomfort coming from him seems to be because of me.
“Poison makers take small doses of their own projects, only so it can’t be used against them.
With time, they’d build up an immunity. What we feel.
” Nik pauses, his jaw losing slack, and glances out the driver’s side window.
After a small moment, he returns his gaze to the road ahead, once again highlighting the dash with his inhuman eyes.
“What we feel with silver, is no different. The more you’re around it, the easier it’ll be to handle. ”
“Easier,” I scoff. “Great. Guess I’m going to have to get rid of my grandma’s silverware set.” I huff out a laugh, earning silence from the rest of the car. Well, besides the constant hisses of pain coming from the backseat.
Nik lowers his head, long hair dancing at his taut shoulders.
He opens his mouth and closes it, then returns his hand from my thigh to the steering wheel.
The spot cools within seconds. This is what hurts the most, I think.
Here he is, begging me to talk to him, yet when I open the door an inch, he slams it shut like there’s something horrible waiting for him on the other side.
He’s not alone up there, that much he’s made clear. So, what is the wolf inside him saying?
“Is something wrong?” I ask, every syllable dripping with spite. “I didn’t ask for this, you know? I didn’t volunteer to be in your pack’s little kill cage, and I definitely didn’t tell your brother to fucking bite me.”
The entire SUV tilts forward as Nikolai slams on the brakes, boxes and crates crashing against the second row of seats.
The tires screech. Everyone careens for the windshield, and Alexey’s groans reach a surprised and pain-filled octave.
But Nik, he doesn’t turn away from the still road in front of him.
He sits unwavering, clenching his hands over the wheel until each large knuckle blanches white.
“I failed you, Natalia.”
I stare at him with disbelief, processing each word slowly.
Failed me? He saved me. Viktor was seconds away from decorating the cellar with a Natalie skin rug.
And after all the horrible things I’ve watched him do, I know both Viktor and his wolf would’ve enjoyed it, too.
If Nik didn’t come for me when he did, I don’t know if I’d even be here in an idle car on— I glance at the street sign in front of us.
Fuck it’s just symbols and squiggly marks.
“Your friend is dead.”
A pit settles in my stomach deeper than silver could ever produce.
“I let you get taken by my family.”
I stare at him, silently begging him to turn to me. He doesn’t. Nikolai stares at the emblem on the steering wheel, his voice getting lower and more vicious with each word.
“Everything that’s gone wrong in your life is because of me. And as fucked up as it is, you are the only thing in my life I’ve ever gotten right.”
My mouth dries first. Then, my throat is greeted with the same cotton texture. I say nothing. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.
“So, let’s not pretend you are here, scratched and bruised. Bitten …” He trails off and winces, the dash losing its glow. “Bitten for any other reason than me. Nothing I can say or do will ever make up for that, Natalia. For the curse running through your fucking veins right now.”
Tears blur my eyes, but I don’t look away. I stare at him. Pleading he’ll give me the same courtesy.
Nikolai sits taller in the seat and meets my gaze, his eyes impossibly gold and brimming.
There’s a snarl to his voice now, and his rumbling chest vibrates the car’s interior.
“I couldn’t even protect you. The only person I’ve ever fallen for.
Imprinted on. How can I, the stain on my family’s legacy, stop something like this from happening to anyone else if I can’t even defend what’s mine? ”
I was right.
He blames himself. For what happened to me.
To Courtney. Nik closes his eyes and punches the dash, cracking the radio display in half and silencing the uncomfortable static wisping in the background.
Can I blame him? No, I don’t think I can.
He warned me not to come back to Volk, but I did.
I went to his club repeatedly after knowing his secret and even forced Courtney to tag along.
He’s no more responsible for her death than I am.
I bring my palms to his cheeks, fighting against his sharp jaw and turning his head until our eyes meet. Warmth blooms at the touch. His skin scalds mine, but I’m more than ready to accept the heat I’ve been deprived of. “You didn’t kill her, Nik.”
His eyes lock on mine, and the gold in each iris seems to glow brighter.
“You didn’t kidnap me. You didn’t give me this curse. Viktor did.”
Shame twists Nik’s features first, then, his cheekbones tighten with rage.
His nostrils flare. Strong cords emerge on each side of his thick neck.
A tremendous heat blocks out the SUV’s air-conditioning working double-time.
I welcome it. Invite the boiling temperature to spread from his body to mine.
“So, let me ask you something,” I say, one side of my face tilting into a smirk.
His grip somehow tightens on the steering wheel an extra inch, rough skin at his fingers losing another shade.
But he doesn’t look away from me. No, his pupils darken and spread to the whites.
Something flashes in his eyes, then. Not the same gold and black hue I’ve seen countless times. It’s different.
An arterial red takes over his eyes and flashes away just as quick.
“What is my alpha going to do about it?”
Nikolai glances down, his brow furrowing. When he looks at me again, there’s a merciless edge to each gold-plated eye. “I’m going to kill them all.”