SNUFF
Page 11
I change into the dress before she rests the crown made of entwined flowers atop my head. The empire waist dress is simple, yet beautiful as it sweeps the ground.
“You look stunning, Sofia,” Alina whispers as she steps behind me.
I stand at the top of the stairs as I watch the commotion below. When Dimitri enters the home, he has a small jewelry box with him as he pretends to look for me. The Pakhan nods to an open door, and a large man enters wearing a veil. When Dimitri lifts the veil, he mocks exasperation as he begins running to the other members of the family. He shakes their shoulders and repeats, “Where is my love?”
Alina takes my hand and begins leading me down the stairs. Dimitri stops his antics and stares up at me as I descend down each step. A smile curls his lips when Alina stops me in front of him.
“There she is,” he whispers as he places the jewelry box in my hands. I open the box and sigh when I see the charm bracelet inside. Each charm represents a piece of me … an ice skate and a music note, but when I see the lock without a key, I frown.
Dimitri grabs my hand and leads me down a hall that I’ve never been down before. I look behind me and see the family still waiting in the foyer, watching us eagerly.
He stops at a door at the very end before looking down at me. “I hope that you like the ransom that I paid for your hand, little mouse.”
He steps forward and pushes the door open, and I almost fall to my knees at what I find.
“It’s your very own frigid sanctuary, Sofia.”
My eyes travel around the indoor ice rink. It’s about the size of a basketball court, and absolutely incredible. The ice looks purple, and a spotlight shines down right in the center. Windows surround the room, and speakers are mounted in every corner.
“How did you do this?” I breathe out.
“Money, Sofia. Money and power. I can give you the world if you allow it.”
My eyes travel to his. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
Dimitri smiles before leaning down to kiss me softly.
“You’re welcome.”
The family’s chapel is absolutely stunning. It’s another place that I have yet to discover in this massive home until now.
The dome ceiling is painted with angels and clouds, and as we stand at the entrance of the church, I admire the floor to ceiling paintings of saints and biblical stories.
I stand to the left of Dimitri as we each hold a lit candle for the betrothal. The deacon leads the litany before saying two prayers. After that, the rings that were blessed prior to the ceremony are placed on each of our right ring fingers.
The priest says another prayer, blessing our betrothal.
Holy Matrimony is considered a Sacred Mystery in the Eastern Orthodox Church, and the sign of marriage isn’t the exchange of rings like it is in the states. It’s having a crown placed on the bride and groom’s head.
The deacon leads us to the nave, where we stand on a rose colored rug. Dimitri professes that he is marrying me of his own free will and that there is no other. I am forced to do the same as I choke back resentful tears.
After several more prayers, the crowns are placed on top of our heads before the priest shares a chalice of wine with Dimitri and me.
My fate is almost sealed.
Almost.
The civil ceremony is held in one of the sitting rooms where we are greeted by Dimitri’s family. They are holding bread and salt, which I’m assuming is a Russian tradition.
This time, Dimitri slips the ring on my finger before I do the same to his. We’re each given a crystal glass, and Dimitri demonstrates as he throws it onto the ground, shattering it. I do the same, jumping back as the shards of glass shatter against the hard floor.
Dimitri grabs my waist before whispering into my ear, “Do you see how many shards there are? We are to have a very happy marriage, Sofia.”
We step outside with Dimitri’s family in tow, and we are each given a white dove. When we set them free, I envy the birds as they spread their wings and fly towards the heavens. Then, I’m given a white balloon. I soon realize that my surname is written on the balloon in cursive, and I know what I’m to do.
I allow a single tear to escape my eye as I watch the balloon float up and away towards the grey sky.
I’m no longer Sofia Dmitriev. I am Sofia Vavilov.
I stare down at the sea of people. They’re all wearing masks, and the women wear elegant gowns that look as if they’re from the eighteenth century. The men do as well in their breeches and coats … some wear cravats and some wear cloaks.
The point of a masquerade is to hide—to be discreet—and it’s the most comfortable that I’ve felt since I’ve been here. I prefer to stay hidden behind the cream colored lace mask that covers the upper part of my face.
Dimitri isn’t hard to spot, though. He wears a black cloak with a three sided hat tilted at the side. His mask is magnificent; it only covers half of his face and is lined with silver, the majority of it being black. His strong energy emanates from him. The mask doesn’t hide what he is—incredibly handsome and evil. The women don’t seem to mind the monster that he is, or they just don’t care because they flock to him like bees to honey.
Alina made sure that we didn’t see each other after he ‘allowed’ me to tour the city with him. Ironically, this home is very close to Moscow; the same place that I originally landed when I first came to Russia. We never left the limo, but he showed me St. Basil’s Cathedral and Moscow Kremlin. All I could do was look on silently as he went on about their unique architecture.
The Rococo styled ballroom is breathtaking. The few pieces of ornate furniture are situated in the corners for the guests to sit and mingle. The architecture is lighter and more graceful than the rest of the home. The walls are white with leafy, stucco designs, and the floor is a dark, cherry wood.
A braided staircase wraps around beautifully and it leads to a balcony. That’s where I’m currently hiding, hoping that I’m not spotted.
The gown that I wear is stunning. The silver fabric reminds me of fish scales, and my breasts nearly threaten to spill from the corset. The long, soft, black feathers that are pinned in my hair curl slightly and occasionally tickle my cheeks.
“You can only hide for so long, krasavaya.”
I turn and see Vadim standing inches away from me. He is wearing a burgundy cloak and a classic, black masquerade mask. The nose is long, and it only covers the upper half of his face.
“I’ve been spotted,” I murmur, before turning and grasping the rail once more.
He steps beside me and sighs. “You should go entertain your husband. He’ll be upset if he has to come find you.”
I scoff as I look towards Dimitri. He’s one man in a sea of women. “He looks pretty entertained already.”
Vadim chuckles. “You’re jealous?”
I frown as I stare at my husband. “No. I just think it’s unfair. I wonder how many other women he’s had since I’ve been here. The fact that I don’t have that same right is frustrating to say the least.”
“As if there are any other men you have your eyes set on. Dimitri is a bastard, but he’s never had a hard time getting any woman he wants.”
Just as I’m about to spout off, I see a familiar face, and my heart feels as if it’s lodged in my throat.
“Boris,” I murmur as I turn and begin making my way down the stairs.
“Boris?” Vadim says as he follows behind me.
I bunch the gown in my hands as I begin hurrying down the steps. I’m feet away from him when an arm wraps around my waist. I look up into Dimitri’s eyes as he swiftly turns me to face him.
“Where are you running off to?”
My eyes frantically search around, but I can no longer see Boris, the boy from the village. The one who always ran away.
I look into Dimitri’s eyes and smile. “I was looking for you.”
He smiles as his eyes drift to my crimson lips. “Tonight, we are going to go spend some tim
e at my cabin in the woods. I’ll take you there by horseback.”
“Oh?” I whisper as he places a finger beneath my chin.
“I have another gift for you,” he murmurs, before leaning down and kissing my jaw.
“Now,” he says, taking my hand in his. “Let’s paint on our smiles and get this over with.”
The crowd begins clearing and lining the walls. My eyes search the masked faces for the simple, white half-mask that Boris was wearing. I see nothing but women who are obviously sneering at me. I guess they prefer to be with my monster of a husband, and I’d happily give him to them.
The Pakhan waits in the center of the room where a table is wheeled out to him. We stand, facing him, on the other side of the table as he begins filling three shot glasses. He retrieves one glass, and Dimitri picks up the other two, handing me one.
“To my only son and the newest addition of our family, Sofia Vavilov. May you have a happy, full marriage.”
The crowd begins chanting, “Gorko, gorko, gorko,” which is Russian for bitter, and Dimitri and his father slam back their drinks. I’m lost in the confusion, but quickly wrap my head around what I’m supposed to do. The vodka burns my throat, causing me to grimace. I gasp when Dimitri’s lips slam into mine and his tongue darts into my mouth. It feels like my lips are becoming bruised as he holds me against him. When he pulls away, it takes me a moment to catch my breath.
“It will help with the taste,” he whispers, before winking and releasing me.
This time, Dimitri fills the shot glasses before he hands me mine once more. I’m dreading another shot. I already feel nauseous from the last one.
I hold my glass up as Dimitri toasts, “To my father, the Pakhan.”
His father nods, and this time I down my shot along with the two men.
The table is wheeled away and the Pakhan leaves with it, leaving Dimitri and I alone in the middle of the ballroom.
He grasps my lower back and pulls me close to him as a slow waltz begins to play. He leads my movements, and it isn’t long for me to catch on. In order to be a figure skater, you must also be a dancer.
Dimitri looks mysterious and handsome as he spins me several times before pulling me into his arms. “You look incredible, my love. I had expectations for what my wife would be. They were very high, but you’ve surpassed them.”
I frown as I look up into his eyes. Just as I’m about to respond, the crowd closes in on us and begins slowly chanting “kalinka, kalinka, kalinka” as a different song begins to play.
Dimitri backs away and bows to me. It makes me smile as he holds his arms out in front of him before placing one forearm over the other. He nods for me to do the same and I do, then he begins tapping one heel on the floor before doing the same to the other. I follow his movements, and the pace quickens as the song speeds up. The crowd is no longer slowly chanting “kalinka,” but hollering it as they clap their hands to our movements.
I laugh as Dimitri links an arm through mine and begins running around in a circle, taking me with him. I’m dizzy when he grabs my waist and begins twirling me. The alcohol kicks in as a result of my movements, causing me to feel loose and happy. It feels good.
Once the song ends, the crowd goes wild as Dimitri pulls me into his arms. A charming smile spreads over his face, and I don’t know if it’s from the alcohol or the celebratory feel in the air, but it makes me melt inside.
Dimitri grasps my arm as I trip over a stray branch. I stop and laugh, grabbing my stomach as I lean against a large tree.
“You seemed to have had fun, little mouse,” he murmurs.
I look towards him through droopy eyelids. I’m drunk. Drunk. I’ve never felt this way before, and it’s somewhat freeing. Especially after everything. I let one more laugh bubble from my gut before pushing from the tree and grabbing his extended hand.
“That was a lot of fun.”
He chuckles. “It’s too bad you stayed hidden in the balcony for the majority of the celebration. I was waiting for you to come down and claim me as your husband.”
I nearly trip again and he catches me around my waist. I look into his eyes and frown. “You’re the most confusing man that I’ve ever met.”
“Confusing? I think that I’ve been straight forward, mouse.”
“You’re not very nice,” I say under my breath as we approach a stable, but I’m sure he heard me because he cocks his eyebrow.
My breath catches in my throat when I see a beautiful horse pawing the ground as its being saddled. Its pure white without any trace of color. Its mane is long and hangs over its neck while its tail sweeps the dusty snow which has covered the ground.
“Do you like her?” Dimitri whispers.
I can’t take my eyes away. She’s absolutely stunning; she almost doesn’t seem real. “She–she’s beautiful.”
“She’s yours,” he responds nonchalantly as he leads me to her.
Her dark eyes lock onto mine as she stills her foot. Dimitri places a hand on my lower back before pushing me towards her. Her nostrils flare as she exhales, and it looks like smoke billows from them as a result from the cold.
I reach out and she eyes my hand as it lingers over her long nose. She hesitates before bumping my palm, and I run a hand from her nose to her jaw. “Pegasus,” I whisper. “Her name is Pegasus.”
Dimitri laughs. “Pegasus was a stallion. Not a mare.”
“She’ll take me to heaven,” I whisper, ignoring his statement.
He steps around me before mounting Pegasus. He reaches down, and I grasp his forearm as he lifts me onto her back behind him.
“Hold on,” he says, looking behind him momentarily.
I wrap my arms around his waist as he nudges Pegasus’ side with his heel. Once we merge into the darkness of the forest, I watch the traces that the trees leave behind. I try to catch them as they pass me, but as Pegasus’ muscles work quickly beneath me, each tree is fast going as my new friend leads me to my fate. I don’t know which Dimitri I’ll face tonight. I never do.
Once we get to a small, wooden structure, Dimitri slides off of the horse before grasping my waist. My chest brushes against his as he lowers me to my feet. He’s still wearing the cloak and his messy hair makes him look boyish. Looks alone, he reminds me of a prince. The thought is silly. If he’s a prince, then he’s The Prince of Darkness. And I’m the sacrifice; the lamb that will be bled dry to feed his power.
He leads Pegasus to a small stable behind the cabin before removing the saddle and brushing her back. Once she’s all set in the stall, he grasps my hand and leads me into the cabin as he holds a lantern in front of him.
When I follow him inside, my eyes travel around the warm surroundings. The windows have sheer curtains hanging over them, and the floor is weathered. The large bed takes up most of the space and is covered in a brown fur.
Dimitri sets the lantern down before walking towards a wood burning stove in the corner of the room. Once the fire comes to life, the small room begins to warm, allowing me to slip the heavy cloak from my shoulders before removing the long, black gloves.
His back faces me as he turns his head slightly. “Take your hair down, Sofia.”
I let out a shaky breath as I begin pulling the pins from my hair as he pours us each a drink. Just as he turns, I remove the last pin and place it on the small, round table along with the others.
His face holds a serious expression as he approaches me with the drinks. “You did incredible today,” he murmurs as he hands me my drink.
I take it from him hastily, eager to lose myself in the haze that the alcohol offers me. I’ve always been afraid to drink. To lose my inhibitions and potentially get into trouble … to make life altering decisions that cannot be reversed. None of that matters anymore. The girl who was once so careful is hiding away, watching me with sober eyes, but I don’t care. She was careful, yet, she still ended up having the unthinkable happen to her.
I slam back the drink before slamming the glass onto the s
urface of the table. Wiping the back of my forearm over my mouth, I look into Dimitri’s gaze as he regards me.
He smirks before he allows the contents of the glass to slide down his throat then turns and retrieves the vodka. This time, he fills my glass with double the amount, but he only fills his halfway before nodding to my glass. I turn my nose up as I snatch the glass from the table, causing the vodka to slosh over the sides before taking it all in with several gulps.
I gasp and stumble backwards when the burn hits my stomach. In a flash, Dimitri grasps my shoulders in his large hands. His face hovers over mine, and I tilt my head back, brushing my lips against his.
Reaching up, I place my hands on each side of his face before my eyes travel up to his. His jaw tenses and his eyelids are heavy as his cognac irises peer out from beneath his long, black eyelashes.
“How can you make me feel this way?” I whisper into the inch between our lips.
Dimitri smiles and brushes his nose against mine. “I would ask you the same thing, little mouse,” he rasps as his fingers drift from my collarbone to my cleavage. “But, sometimes, you have to let the inevitable happen.”
My breath hitches when he rips my dress down the center. His lips find mine, and I tangle my fingers in his hair as I allow him to diminish every ounce of hesitation on my part. The ripped dress slides over my hips as he backs me to the bed, his lips not once leaving mine. When he lays me down, he pulls his mouth from mine as he stands straight and removes his cloak followed by his shirt. He’s only wearing his breeches and boots as he stares down at me with a hunger that I’ve not seen before in his eyes.
I’m quickly learning that my resolve is a fickle thing. I was forced to come to this place and made to marry, along with all of the in-betweens. Yet, through it all, I still open my legs for this man. I’m headstrong, yet temperamental. I’m yo-yoing between what’s right, and what’s wrong. It’s a never-ending cycle, and it’s all Dimitri’s doing.