Her voice is as commanding and impatient in my dreams as it was in real life.
I twist in the bed. As comfortable as it is, I feel like I’m being pricked by needles from every angle. When I manage to find a bearable spot, it doesn’t stay that way for long.
Accept it.
I hear his crying between flashes of nightmares.
It’s been days since I held him, touched him, talked to him. What if he forgets me? What if he only remembers that I abandoned him to a woman whose body can’t bend into a hug?
Children need to be hugged.
Children need to be kissed and loved.
“Accept it.”
“I don’t fucking want to!” I yell, turning to her as she stands there, invading my space.
My hand trembles over my burgeoning belly and all I can think, irrational as it may be, is: I wish that Leo was here. I wish I were with him now.
“Your name is the only reason you’re alive right now,” Anya says.
“Everyone keeps fucking telling me that. I’m sick of hearing it. I’m so, so sick of hearing it.”
I remember thinking she was beautiful when I first stepped into that car and encountered her. Her hair was raven-dark like mine. Her eyes had the same blues and grays as mine. The same sadness. The same distance.
“Don’t be a fool. That baby will inherit your name,” she replies. “You need to do more than just accept your name; you need to embrace it.”
“I am not a Mikhailov,” I snap. “And I’m not a Solovev, either. I am a Powers. Willow Powers.”
A flicker of irritation flashes across her eyes. “I chose those idiots because I knew they’d be good to you,” she says. “But now, I think they may have been too good to you.”
I try to suppress my desire to recoil. What kind of woman says something like that to the daughter she gave up? She doesn’t seem to even realize how hurtful those words are. How they slice me open along the same scars that have been building on my heart for years.
“What does that even mean?” I ask.
“It means you’re weak. Soft. You’re a victim.”
I stare at her in disbelief.
Anya strokes her chin. “Maybe it was a mistake. I thought giving you a normal life was my gift to you. But I see now how na?ve I was. They would have found you in the end.”
“They?”
“My enemies.”
I don’t say anything, and she moves closer.
“Like Leo,” she says harshly.
My hand falls protectively against my belly. She notices; of course she does. Nothing gets past this woman.
“He’s your enemy, too, Viktoria.”
“I’m carrying his baby,” I remind her.
Her eyes fall on the bump. It’s only just popped, still easy to conceal from anyone who isn’t as observant as she is.
“You’re not that far along. One simple procedure and the child won’t be a problem anymore.”
I go cold. This woman can’t be my mother. I’m not even sure she’s human.
“Tell me you’re joking,” I rasp.
“He won’t have a hold on you then. It’s for your own good.”
I take a step forward, my face hardening. My jaw twitches as I stop only inches from her face.
Had I really thought she was beautiful when I first laid eyes on her? All I can see now is a monster.
“If you try and hurt my child, I will fucking kill you,” I promise her. And it is a promise. “I don’t care that you’re my birth mother. I don’t care about your name, either. I will fucking kill you.”
Her eyes go wide for a second. And then… she smiles.
“There might be hope for you yet,” she murmurs.
Then she turns and leaves.
I go to the window after she’s gone. I cradle my stomach and stare at the high walls that separate me from the rest of the world.
I don’t want to be here.
But where else can I go?
The answer is obvious, as much as I hate it.
Leo…
Leo…
Leo.
Heat grazes across my left arm and I wake with a gasp. My eyes fly open, but there’s still only darkness. Endless, churning darkness.
I feel the weight pulling me to the left, sinking the mattress. Someone’s here with me.
As soon as the thought solidifies, I know who it is.
His natural scent is thick and rich, no different than the ancient trees that surround this cabin. There’s a hint of cigar smoke on him.
There’s something else too. Another smell, floral but darker. Like rich cherries and poison ivy. I can’t quite place it, but it feels familiar.
Suddenly, a light flicks on.
I blink against it, the room coming into focus for the first time in God-knows-how-long. I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been here.
Then I realize the light is coming from outside. A porch light shining through the blinds just enough to let me see.
When I look to the left side of the bed now, I can make out his sleeping form.
Leo is on his side with his back turned to me. The sheet is pulled over his waist, but his chest is bare, rippling with muscles that somehow manage to look flexed even in sleep.
Christ, he’s beautiful.
I hate it, and I hate myself for thinking it. But I still give myself several more seconds to admire him. Because for a second, I’m okay. Everything is okay.
But fantasies can’t last forever.
I look around, searching for something—a heavy object or weapon I can use to force him to listen. I see something glint on the bedside table over his shoulder.
A gun? No. It’s far too bright for the dull dark metal of a gun.
It’s the blade of a knife. Which will work just as well.
I’m about to steel myself to tip-toe out of the bed so I can reach it… when he moves. He twists around and his eyes are open.
“I wouldn’t,” he says calmly.
I sit up. The sheets pool around my waist. I’m wearing a thin t-shirt that’s too big for me, but Leo still studies my shape. He can’t help himself.
“Where am I?”
“I would have thought it was obvious,” he says, gesturing around to what I can see is a very large bedroom. “My room.”
“Why?”
“Because you lost the privilege of having your own space. You need to be watched, and I don’t trust anyone else to do the job anymore.”
I pull back the sheets and attempt to get out of bed, but he grabs my arm and pulls me down. I sink into the mattress. The moment I’m down, he swings his leg over and gets on top of me.
“Get off of me,” I grunt.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Willow. You may have called the shots in the Mikhailov compound. But here, I’m the one who’s in charge.”
I laugh right in his face. “If you think I called any shots there, you’re out of your damn mind.”
He looks down at me with a smile. “I thought so.”
“Excuse me?”
“Anya is a controlling bitch. I just wanted to hear you say it.”
“Get. Off. Of. Me.”
“Stop struggling. You’re only going to hurt yourself.”
“And that’s your job, isn’t it?” I bite back at him.
“I never intended to hurt you,” he says quietly. “You were simply collateral damage.”
It’s a fact for Leo. He doesn’t have regret. He isn’t apologizing. He’s telling me the way it is. He wouldn’t change anything that’s happened in the last year and a half.