by A. C. Bextor
When I round the kitchen’s corner, I’m immediately stopped from moving forward.
In a high-back wooden chair, Katrina is straddling Vee’s lap. Her hands grasp its spindles, and her naked legs hang loosely at each side. Her feet barely touch the floor. Her body is grinding into his, hip to hip, torso to torso. Her eyes are closed, and her head is thrown back.
My gasp of surprise brings her focus to mine.
A burning trail of unwarranted jealousy and anger heats my blood, bringing it to a boil. Vee had been genuinely attentive tonight. He’d danced with me; held me close. When he touched me, I know he felt it. More to the point, I know I did. He’d listened to me rattle on about a memory I had of him as a child, spilling it out like a confession.
As I pull myself from tonight’s fog, I watch Katrina’s mouth as it forms a devilish smirk. Her fingernails dig into Vee’s shoulder and back as she keeps her sadistic gaze locked to mine.
Vee continues lifting her body in the air before pulling her back down on top of his. His throttled movements are rough and uncaring. She winces when his mouth finds her neck; he must have bitten down. I can’t see his face, but when she pulls away from him, the mark he left is clear.
The mark he left on her.
It isn’t until Vee releases an ominous growl, followed by her yelp of surprise, that I realize I’ve been watching them together for far too long.
My palms sweat, and my thighs quiver. My heartbeat throbs at the base of my throat. My mouth waters, not from the picture of them together, but only Vee alone. His broad shoulders protest under her weight as he seamlessly positions her where he wants her to be. The back of his neck reddens against her touch. A guttural moan strikes each time he brings her back down onto him.
I can’t watch this.
As I start to turn away, Katrina smiles again, then bends to whisper in his ear. My name, along with ‘child,’ is clearly heard.
Vee stops moving, his body becoming tense. When he stands, he takes her with him. Though his shirt has been discarded, his camouflage cargo pants are in place, but unbuttoned.
He sets her to her feet, turns her, and pushes on her back to force her chest to the table. Holding the back of her neck, Vee locks her body in place as he thrusts into her with force. He locks his gaze to mine, even as she whimpers beneath him and struggles to get free.
I don’t recognize this man anymore. There is no kindness in his eyes. No care in his touch. No longing when he looks at me. No heat, passion, desire, or excitement.
This is the brutality of a powerful man carnally fucking a faceless but willing woman. No more, no less.
Defeat consumes me. It was better to have watched Katrina’s reaction to Vee rather than his own reaction.
Turning around, I start to walk away. I feel his eyes on me as I take one step, then another. Before I’m any farther down the hall, I hear him utter something in the most abhorrent of ways.
Vee calling my name as he finishes himself inside her.
“You said Klara,” Katrina hisses, moving to stand. “That stupid girl’s name.”
My jaw ticks, and I don’t satisfy her with a response. After the setup I walked in on with her and Thomas Edders, my anger at her hasn’t diminished at all. She was here tonight to serve one purpose, and now she realizes what that purpose was.
Business or not, Klara or not, this relationship is about to be severed.
Katrina bends to gather her shirt off the kitchen floor. The one I’d torn when my anger, outrage, and annoyance had been tested too far. I wanted to slap her, beat her, for interrupting Klara’s party as she did. Instead, because I’m well versed with Katrina’s feelings for me, I decided to use them against her and give her what she thought she wanted.
Slipping on her shirt and then running her hands toward the back of her neck, she pulls her hair out before snapping the front shut.
When Katrina interrupted my time with Klara, a time which I was enjoying, she told me there was a problem at her stable. Once Abram and I checked into it, we found there was nothing that couldn’t have waited until the party was over or until the next morning.
Sated but pissed, I dismiss Katrina with, “However you got into my home at this hour, see that you don’t do it again.”
“Fuck you,” she spits. Her eyes narrow again as they move up my throat, then to my angry stare. “She’s nothing,” she accuses, standing on her toes and gaining inches toward my face. “She’s a no one from nowhere.”
My patience snaps. The sharp echo of the back of my hand striking her face fills the space between us. Katrina falls to the floor, holding her cheek and looking back at me with a venomous expression.
A sadistic laugh bursts from her chest, followed by a sharp inhale of breath before she bites, “Do you really think a woman like her could please a man like you?”
“Get out.”
“She wouldn’t last a night in your bed, Vlad. We both know it.”
“You won’t come back.”
Her expression changes, not to remorse for what she’s accused but to regret for what I’ve told her.
“You don’t mean that,” she protests, daring to stand in front of me.
When she brings her hands to rest against my bare chest, her fingertips burn the skin like acid. Grabbing her wrists, I squeeze them both until I see pain flash in her eyes.
“Abram will settle whatever money you’re owed. Leonid will pack your things from the stable. You’re finished, Katrina. I don’t ever want to see your face again.”
Stupidly, she doesn’t take to my instruction. Instead, she collects herself and sneers, “What would Vory say if I told him you preferred a child like her to a woman like me?”
Gripping her wrists harder, I shake her. Her head jerks wildly back and forth before I stop.
Laughing again, she adds, “I wonder what Klara would look like dressed up like all the other little whores you have at your beck, call, and payroll.”
“Just you, Katrina. You’re the only honest-to-God whore I’ve ever known.”
Scowling, she steps forward. “And that’s how it will stay. Vory will know if you so much as—”
Her unfinished threat is the final yank to my already frayed strand of patience. Clutching her neck tightly, I effortlessly position her body against the nearest wall. Her head slams against it, and her hanging feet kick out against my legs.
As she digs her fingernails into my wrist, I strengthen my grasp.
“If you say her name, if you speak to her, if you so much as think of ever getting close to her again, I’ll cut out your tongue and feed it to the dogs. Do you understand?”
Her body bucks, continuing its weakening fight against my power.
Using all of my strength, I push against her, leaning in close to whisper in her ear, “After Meridius finishes with your tongue, I’ll spear your eyes and cut off your nose to feed Maximus. Then I’ll kill you, banishing you to the gates of hell where you belong.”
I release her and Katrina falls to the floor, clutching her neck and gasping for breath. She doesn’t say another word, nor does she challenge to look at me again. She turns on her heels to run through the door, hopefully never to be heard from again.
Furious tears roll down my cheeks. The wetness of my humiliation continues to linger against my pillow. When I left the kitchen so quickly, Meridius followed me back to my room. He’s been a silent comfort with every lick to my face and nose nudge to my hand.
I was a fool to believe Vlad Zalesky was ever capable of being anyone other than who he’s always been. A monster. A brother and a father, only driven to protect his family, not be a part of them as he should. A morally bankrupt businessman who has no cause or justification for doing the things he’s done.
Katrina’s face holds in my memory—her snide smile, her empty eyes, and her poisonous hands as they explored his body. As he allowed her to explore his body.
“Klara.” The familiar voice outside my door forces my eyes to close.
> The bed shakes as Meridius jumps down, running toward his master. When the door swings open, I open my eyes, take in a breath, and wait.
Lying on my bed, my back is to Vee, and my eyes are trained on the wall. The size of his shadow in the hall light is remarkable. His body’s outline moves as he settles his back against one side of the doorjamb. At the same time he positions his hands to his hips, he lowers his head.
“Katrina is gone,” he states quietly. “I told her to leave.”
The empty anger I’ve been grasping onto in hopes of holding the source of true hurt at bay comes rushing to the surface.
If it was me he was thinking about as he touched her, then she shouldn’t have been here at all.
Turning only my head, I take a startling look up. In the profile of the hall’s light, Vee lifts his head, wearing an expression I’ve never seen from him before.
Regret, maybe? Hurt?
“Katrina is gone?” Angry, I still mock the question with a hiss. “Well, thank you for telling me.”
Sitting up quickly and throwing my feet over the edge of the bed, I watch as Vee takes a step inside the room. Then another, keeping his hands in his front pockets.
Remembering I’m not completely sober, I place my hands on my hips and make an effort not to sway.
“Klara,” he evenly addresses. “Stop acting as if what you saw tonight broke your heart.”
“Broke my heart,” I repeat his words to myself in disbelief.
You could tempt the heart of a saint in that dress.
“I didn’t deserve to see your hands on her just hours after they were on me.”
His hand comes to my face. Before he’s able to touch me, I swiftly move out of reach.
“Your spirit is admirable, but it’s also exhausting,” he states, dropping his arm and keeping his eyes on me.
“What happened?” I question, catching his wince. “Tonight, Vee. You—”
“What shouldn’t have happened,” he assures.
“You called me yours.”
“And in ways, I meant it,” he returns. “But—”
Not wanting to hear any more of his regret, I look to the floor as my shoulders come forward.
“Go,” I whisper.
“Klara,” he calls from a distance. “Look at me.”
“I don’t want to.”
“My life would only hurt you,” he promises. “You deserve—”
“Your life is mine, Vee. Tonight was an example of that.”
“What you think you know, you don’t,” he argues.
“Because I’m young you assume I’m ignorant?”
“No. Not because you’re young, but because you’re innocent. You deserve more.”
“You’re right,” I agree. Steeling my spine, I come face-to-face with his selfish anguish. “I deserve more. More than a man like you could ever give me.”
“Watch what you say to me,” he warns.
“It’s the truth of what I’m saying, not my tone that pisses you off.”
Walking toward me in quick steps, Vee invades my space. He’s been drinking. The smell of whiskey wafts from his mouth when his hand fists my hair, leaving his face only inches from mine.
“The truth?” he repeats. “Do you want the truth?”
“You’re hurting me,” I quietly reply.
Physically, Vee’s not hurting me at all. Emotionally, in this moment, like those before, he holds the power to ruin all I ever believed he could be.
Because of this, I insist, “Let me go.”
At my words, whether the meaning behind them or the tone I’ve used, Vee’s grip tightens. Without warning, his mouth crashes forcefully against mine.
This kiss isn’t gentle. It’s not seductive in nature or carefully considered.
He’s showing me his anger. His frustration. His brutality.
As I part my lips to scream in protest, Vee’s tongue slides inside, dueling with mine for control. He releases my hair before cupping my face and holding my head steady as the punishing assault continues.
My stomach churns while my desire for a man I once feared evolves into something else. Images of being taken by him, the way Katrina had been, batter my self-control. My hands position at his chest, then slide over his bare and broad shoulders. His skin is warm, inviting, but it’s still not enough.
I can’t remember a time in my life that my senses have been this heightened. Sounds of flesh meshing together, breaths being taken between us, hands frustratingly exploring the other’s body. All of it a confusing mix of something profound.
Setting me free, Vlad bites my bottom lip before pushing me back. Nearly losing my already unstable balance, I cling to his arms to avoid falling.
Without so much as a second glance back, Vlad turns, leaving me standing alone in the middle of my room.
Before walking out, he grabs the door handle and turns back to me, his slow glance traveling from my head down by body. Even though I’m dressed, he’s still able to expose me. But I’m doing the same. He can’t hide behind his mask of indifference much longer.
I won’t let him.
He kissed me.
As if he hears my unsaid challenge, Vlad’s eyes narrow into a malevolent scowl. Without another word, Vee takes his final step out, closing the door behind him.
Happy Birthday, my beautiful girl.
Holding a familiar piece of silver of jewelry in my hand, I look up to find the vendor watching me appreciate its beauty. We’ve been shopping outside all day and I still haven’t decided what to buy.
“You’ve found a Gandaberunda.” Gleb points to what I’m holding as he smiles at my confusion.
“A what?”
I’ve seen this before. Vee’s back is marked much the same. I’ve studied the emblem traced on his skin many times. Closely, with every opportunity I’m given.
“But I haven’t seen one like this in a long time,” Gleb muses.
“I don’t—”
“It’s the symbol of a two-headed eagle,” he explains, then adds, “They’re said to have immeasurable strength. Enough power to carry the biggest prey in their clutches.”
“Or carry those they love from harm’s way?” I argue.
Gleb’s dark eyes smile. His face, always gentle when addressing me, grows even more so.
“Sure, Klara,” he answers, using the tip of his finger to poke my nose. “Only you would turn such a powerful creature into a lovesick fool.”
“I didn’t do that!”
Laughing, he pokes again. “You did. I said power, you said love.”
“Can’t they be considered the same?” I ask.
Gleb’s head rears back as if I’ve struck him. “Christ, how old are you? What do you know about love?”
“Be nice,” I insist. “You know what I’m saying.”
Looking down, I study the silver pendant.
The double-headed eagle’s chest is broad, its eyes fierce, its talons sharp, its beak sharp. The expansion of its wings is colossal. I’ve never known its name. I wouldn’t have forgotten its beauty.
When Maag came to my room yesterday morning, she was frantic. Through the drama of packing my bags, she explained that both Veni and I were headed to wherever it was Vee was going. His name in thought alone made me angry. Still nursing my bruised ego in the face of Katrina and Vee, then my response to his punishing kiss, I wanted to deny her orders but it would’ve been a wasted effort.
Eight days have passed since my birthday, which was the last time I spoke to Vee directly. I’ve only seen him a few times, and when we’ve been in front of the others, no one has seemed to notice any difference between us. This attests to our turbulent relationship, if that’s what I can call it.
Within thirty minutes of barging through my door, Maag had me up from my bed, dressed, and holding a bag with all my necessities packed for the trip. The older woman can be incredibly pushy, but incredibly brilliant just the same.
Once Veni and I arrived at the extravagant hotel,
we were seen to our rooms. In mine was where I found Rueon waiting for me.
For the rest of the day I was left alone, except for Rueon who stood quietly at my door. I scanned the variety of magazines left out on the table, flipped through a few mindless television shows, and then ordered room service for late dinner before turning in early after a warm bath.
Faina was supposed to meet us here this morning but never did. I didn’t ask Gleb why she decided not to come, assuming it was because with all of us gone, she’d have time alone to enjoy the peace and quiet. Gleb confirmed exactly that.
This morning, Gleb handed me an envelope full of money while explaining how I was taking Veni shopping to the street market vendors downtown. I was told to buy anything I wanted, for whomever I wanted. With Vee’s schedule being as busy as it’s planned to be, Gleb told me he and Rueon would stay with us. Abram and Leonid, along with a few others, would follow Vee.
In the little time Gleb’s spent shopping with Veni and me, I’ve learned firsthand that he doesn’t particularly care for crowds—or maybe he doesn’t care for people in general.
“It’s very pretty,” I comment before losing Gleb’s attention.
“And it makes a perfect gift for someone you admire,” he notes. “Faina, maybe?”
I hadn’t thought of her. Faina is a woman; one-of-a-kind clothes and shoes would be more fitting.
This particular pendant is masculine. And so my thoughts drift to Vee. A side to him, much like the eagle, is intense, powerful, and vast. The side I’ve seen, frightening me as a girl, always present.
The other side, though, still as visceral and strong, could be considered different. There’s a delicate sensitivity to Vee I’m sure he’d deny. However, there are times his actions have spoken louder than his words. His protective nature for those he loves is constant. Bringing together his power with his love for those he holds close makes up who he is. Who he’s come to be to me.
“It’s late and I’m hungry. When’s dinner?” Veni questions, coming to stand at my side. He looks to my fingers, where I rub the silver eagle to shine. “Sweet! What’s that?”