Time moved in a blur as Vor flooded into the room. Whenever someone tried to approach Danika, Roman swiped and roared, nearly shattering a soldier’s kneecap. He was dragged away–fighting and screaming–so someone could gently pick-up Danika and leave with her. Konstantin held me to his side, supporting my weight more than I wanted to admit. Faces melded together as we left the hippodrome, and voices became a rush of sound.
The next time I found myself in a moment of lucidness, I was standing in a bathroom. Konstantin was rubbing my hands with soap, his soothing voice running over my arms and neck.
My baby. I want my baby.
I didn’t realize I had spoken out loud until he replied, “I’ll bring Nikolai up when you’re clean.”
My head grew too heavy and I dropped it onto his chest. His warmth surrounded me as he held me close, the thrum of his heartbeat the only detail I could focus on.
“You’re okay, Elena,” he murmured.
“Danika.”
His arms tightened. “She’s in surgery.”
My insides were tearing apart in agony, my heart was caving in. I could feel her blood on my hands, hear her crying out that she wasn’t ready to go just yet.
“I can’t take this,” I whispered. “I can’t take all this pain.”
Konstantin pressed his lips to the top of my head. “You can and you will.”
I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to feel like this.
Make it stop, make it stop.
A new word came skidding into my brain. Despair.
Konstantin helped me into bed, wrapping me up in the blanket. He whispered something to me before disappearing. When he returned, Nikolai was with him.
“Hop into bed with your mother,” Konstantin was saying.
Niko crawled to me, burying himself deep in my waiting arms. He asked me what was wrong, then talked about his day with Evva. Eventually, his voice trailed off and little snores began to fill the room. I held him to my chest like I used to do when he was an infant, soothing him to sleep with my voice and heartbeat.
“Go to sleep, Elena,” Konstantin said. He was sitting in an armchair beside the bed, eyes dark like the shadows. “I’ll keep you both safe.”
“He used to sleep like this when he was a baby.” The words came out of me on their own accord, like my co-pilot was now running the show. “On my chest, his head against my heart. He wouldn’t settle in the crib, or with the babysitter.”
“That sounds nice.” Konstantin’s voice was strange. Almost…jealous.
“Only my arms…” My voice grew weaker and weaker. “He would only sleep in my arms.” Before my sentence ended, I was swallowed into the land of nightmares.
I dreamed of my father leaning over Danika’s bleeding body. He was holding a bouquet of foxglove held together by a black ribbon. When he looked up at me, he smiled, revealing his toothless mouth.
What do I call you, daughter? His words were gurgled speech. Dr Agostino or Mrs Falcone?
23
Elena Falcone
I woke up alone.
My first thought was: Nikolai didn’t wake me up. Which was quickly followed by: Nikolai didn’t wake me up.
My eyes snapped open as I sprung upright. The room was completely empty, not even Babushka lurked in the corners.
I realized immediately: This isn’t my room.
There was no pile of books on the bedside table or toy trucks scattered around the floor. No little shoes or dirt tracks or vases of wildflowers. The room was clean, neat, with the only sign of personalization the family photographs on the wall and green tie hanging loosely over the armoire mirror.
I was in Konstantin’s room.
The rational part of me argued that we already knew this fact. After all, it was Konstantin who had washed my bloody hands the night before and watched over my son as I had slept–or so my memories told me. I hadn’t realized we were in his bedroom, in his nest.
I looked down at the sheets, my mind suddenly filled with images of Konstantin stretching over the silk, his naked form unfurling after a long day of work. He would rest his arm over his eyes, taking a deep breath, causing the muscles on his chest to tighten and loosen. I could head his deep groans; picture the hand he would take to cup his cock–
My entire body heated with embarrassment and desire.
I was daydreaming like a horny teenager who had a racy magazine stuffed between the mattress and bedframe.
To avoid any more stray thoughts, I slid out of bed, wrapped the blanket around myself like a huge shawl and went in search of my son. My first instinct wasn’t to panic, but I did move quickly out of the room and into the hallway on my quest to find him.
It didn’t take long.
Niko’s laughter came from Konstantin’s informal study. He didn’t sound like he was in distress or searching for his mother. He sounded…happy.
I peeked through the crack in the door. In hindsight, I wished I had taken a moment to collect myself, to recover from the emotional night before because the scene that lay before me brought a fresh set of tears to my eyes.
Konstantin was sitting at his desk, Nikolai beside him, their blond heads gleaming in the growing sunlight. Whereas Konstantin had a laptop and documents in front of him, my son had a coloring book and array of colorful pencils.
It was clear immediately that Nikolai was copying everything Konstantin did, from the shift in his chair to the tilt of his head. When Kon reached for a new pen, Niko reached for a new pencil. When Kon took a sip of his tea, Niko chugged his juice box.
Seeing them together like this, so relaxed and happy, not only did it make it obvious how much they looked alike, but it also reminded me how much Niko had missed out on. How many mornings with his father had I taken away from him? How many memories did I steal away from my son?
My chest cramped painfully.
It was Babushka who revealed my position. She meowed loudly from where she was nestled on the bookshelf, causing both my boys to lift their heads and spot me.
“Mama!” Niko grinned.
“Good morning, my wild boy. Did you sleep okay?” I stepped into the room, trying to shrug off Konstantin’s gaze.
He nodded, eyes alight. “I did. Did you sleep okay?”
I smiled. He had repeated my question in the exact same tone I had delivered it to him in. “I did. I dreamed of you.” A little lie but one I would rather than the truth.
“I dreamed of chocolate.”
I nodded sagely and reached the desk. “Chocolate dreams are very important.” My eyes darted to Konstantin. He was leaning back in his chair, watching us. “How did you sleep?”
“I haven’t yet.” He smiled at Niko, who grinned back. “Hopefully, I dream about chocolate, as well.”
What do you dream about, Konstantin? I felt tempted to ask but remained quiet. Instead I asked Niko, “Would you like to come with me?”
He glanced at Kon before shaking his head. "No, Mama."
"No, thank you," I corrected before adding, "Konstantin probably has lots of work to do, baby. Let's leave him alone."
"I'm fine, Elena," Konstantin interrupted. His eyes were trained on me. "Nikolai can stay. He's good company."
Niko blossomed beneath the praise.
I nearly rolled my eyes. "If you're certain." Some deep horrible part of myself was envious that Niko wanted to hang out with someone else. I had been Niko's best friend and first playmate his entire life. Him suddenly being obsessed with Konstantin did make me a little jealous, even if that jealousy was juvenile.