Elena smiled and accepted the gift. “Thank you, baby. Can you say cyclamen?”
Kaz tried his best, stumbling over the syllables.
“Almost there,” I encouraged. “Cyclamen.”
“BICYCLE!” Timo laughed.
In an instant, Kaz also yelled and laughed, the sound almost identical to the one Timo had made.
“Not bicycle, Timofei, but close,” Elena said. Her attention left the boys and went to Evva. “You know better than to run ahead.”
Evva adored Elena and always shrank a little under her disapproval. “I’m sorry, Auntie Lena, but I wanted to see Niko.”
Kaz saw Evva holding onto the fence and stretched forward to copy her. He couldn’t get a good grip but he made a good effort.
“Don’t do it again. It’s not safe.” But Elena stroked her hair, showing she wasn’t angry. “Are you excited to meet your little sister?”
Evva brightened. “I am.” She looked down at Timo, who was running around with Dominick and Anton. “I’ve got enough brothers. I need a sister.”
“I completely agree.”
As the children found other ways to entertain themselves, Elena and I fell into a conversation. We had spent hours with our heads together, going over every possible problem and danger. She had found loopholes and information that my men hadn’t even considered.
My favorite parts of the day were when the children were asleep, and Elena would whisper her thoughts to me in the darkness. I didn’t need to read the words on her arms anymore to figure out her mind; instead she offered it freely to me.
“Olezka is afraid the DEA might show up,” she said. “It would ruin our plans.”
“FBI, DEA. All just bureaucrats who hate doing paperwork. Do not fret, lyubimaya. The bust will go off without a hitch.”
Her lips thinned. “If you get shot, I won’t be happy.”
I felt my smile grow and leaned into her. Our lips pressed together, chastely for the children. “I have no plans of getting shot, my Elena. But I do not think it is something I get to plan for.”
“Here’s a plan,” she murmured against my mouth. “If you get shot, you can sleep on the couch.”
“You wouldn’t nurse me back to health? Such a heartless and cruel woman I have married.”
Elena shrugged, eyes alight in humor. “You’re a big boy. I’m sure you could handle it.”
“I would much rather you handle it.”
Her cheeks went red.
Duchess knickered and Nikolai laughed along with her. Elena turned to take in her son, enraptured with the human she had created.
I brought her to my chest, kissing her head. Like vines on a tree, she wrapped herself around me, securing her position in my embrace.
“I want them to stop growing,” she murmured. It was rare for her to share fictitious wishes, but the children always brought that out in her. “Every time I turn to look at them, they’re an inch taller.”
“You’re 5’10 and I am 6’3.”
Elena nudged me. “You’re not funny. I want to cry.”
I pressed my lips to her hair. “I know, lyubimaya. Children grow; it is one of their more negative traits.”
“That and the shitstorms.”
Shitstorms was the word Roman had used to don when babies pooed so much it crawled up their backs and to their necks. It had infected our family. Artyom had banned it from the dining table, but I knew the children mouthed it to each other through their giggles.
“That and the shitstorms,” I agreed.
Elena rested her chin on my chest, looking up at me. I pressed my nose to hers, breathing in her intoxicating scent. “I love you.”
She said it with such ease and care that I felt my heart tighten in pain.
For years, I had coveted over the mystery woman behind an academic article. Then I had been forbidden from marrying her, watching her marry another. When I had taken my kingdom, I had taken her back, intent on her loving me in return and being my wife.
I hadn’t considered what it would be like to have a woman like Elena love me.
I wished I could go back and soothe my younger self. Do not worry, Kostya, she will return. When I had lost her to Thaddeo and then when I had lost her to Titus, I had been wrathful and broken-hearted. I didn’t consider that Elena was no idiot, and she would find me.
For me, it had only ever been Elena. And for Elena? It had only ever been me.
“Oh, my Elena,” I rubbed my nose over her forehead. “My love for you is eternal.”
“Sometimes I think we’ll never die,” she murmured. “We’ll just walk into the forest one day and spend eternity together as trees, our roots entwined, and branches embraced. I can see us offering shade for our sons and a hideout for our grandchildren. Our great-grandchildren will climb on us for fun and their children will use our fallen sticks as toys.”
“Watching over Tarkhanovs and our empire until the very last time the sun sets on the world.” I agreed.
We kissed, slow and luxurious. There was no rush, no scandal or secrets. We kissed full of love and adoration, respect and admiration.
My mate, my opponent, my equal.
My true love.
My Elena.
Somewhere in St. Petersburg, Russia.
Nikolina Gribkova
There was a monster outside.
Sister Marya said there was no such thing as monsters. No bogeyman or Emperor Koschei. Humans, she always said as she tucked us into bed, are the only monsters in the world.
I wasn’t a monster. I was a human, but not a monster, and I think I would know if I was.
I didn’t have fangs or claws, not even a tail or two pointy ears. I had ten toes and one nose, and my teeth weren’t very sharp. I didn’t even have beady eyes–all monsters had beady eyes.
Whatever was outside my window had beady eyes.
All the other girls were asleep. I could tell because I could hear Vasilisa snoring and Kseniya sleep-talking. If the bigger girls were asleep, then all the little ones were too. They got to stay up later than us, which was so unfair. Vasilisa once said that the older kids got to sit with the nuns in front of the television (the television no one was allowed to touch) and eat sugary treats. She had even once brought back half-chewed toffee as proof.
I hoped the monster ate Vasilisa first.
Like it could hear me, the monster pressed up closer to the glass. Its long limbs stretched over the window like spider legs, casting scary shadows over the beds.
I buried myself into the blanket, biting down on the scratchy quilt to keep quiet.
With a whoosh, the window came undone, wind and rain blowing into the bed. The monster clambered into the room, hissing and–
Swearing?
“Oh, fuck,” the monster said in Russian. “Oh, fuck, fuck. I hate this fucking weather and this fucking city and these fucking quests and my fucking landlord. Oh, rent’s due on Friday? Kiss my ass, Peter.”
"Shush!" hissed a voice. Another monster climbed in after the first. "If you wake one of the kids, we're dead."
The other monster grumbled.
I slowly twisted in my bed, peeking over the blanket to get a better look. The monsters closed the window, stopping the rain from ruining the floor. Sister Marya would blame one of us for the water–she always blamed us.