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Alina Starkov was wearing gold again.
She walked amongst soldiers in the palace, nodding her head to those who bowed. Grisha around her touched their hands to their hearts in gratitude of her, and when Alina had asked why, they’d told her they were thankful – thankful for the sacrifice she had almost made, thankful that she was able to stop the Darkling and render him defenseless. She was saint and savior. Merciful, they called her.
It made bile rise up in her throat.
But she kept the façade for the next few days, keeping her head low and her words to herself. There was nothing she could do now. The deed was done. She was Ravka’s savior, she had not died trying to save her people, though they certainly treated her like she had, and now she was their permanent protector.
Not for long.
Alina rounded a corner and took a relieved breath when she saw that no people were around her. No one to thank her, no one to ask her how she had done it, how she had made the Darkling become tame. How she’d broken him so. No one to tell her what she had to say or do, no one to breathe down her neck and watch her.
Her eyes closed as she leaned back against the cold stone wall. And then – then she’d felt herself reach for the stag collar.
It was not there.
Whatever thing that had broken the Darkling when they’d both nearly perished, it had broken something in her too. The amplifiers were gone. And Mal – the last amplifier, and now the only one apart from the Darkling himself – was still alive. She had not dared to ask him for his power. Couldn’t. And, in the end, Alina realized that she hadn’t needed to at all.
Her powers remained whole. Completely whole. She felt it drum inside her, a quiet beat, firm and unyielding. Wanting to seek the darkness to see what lurked there. Alina could not find a true explanation for the disappearance of the physical amplifiers, and none of the other grisha suggested answers, either. Secretly she believed she’d somehow absorbed the powers of the amplifiers, thus becoming one herself.
But she did not want to think on it too much. Not now. Thinking about it would make it real. That amount of power in her hands…
She wondered about the man in the cellars below. They’d given him enough comfort – a bed and a proper bathing section, as well as books for him to spend his days somewhat entertained. Some said it was more than he deserved. Alina could not think to agree or disagree.
She’d visited him – only once. Aleksander had not looked at her, not for a spare second. She’d murmured to Nikolai that the power there was weak, and that she barely felt him, and the newly made king nodded and asked her to put a shield around the bars anyway.
“He’s weak,” she’d said to him. “He will not leave. The threat is too large.”
“Do it anyway,” Nikolai said, touching her shoulder briefly. “We never know, Alina. We never know.”
She’d watched the young king go, watching the tired, hunched shoulders and the head he held low. She’d sighed. Alina hadn’t wanted to be down there alone with the Darkling for far too long.
Maybe she was afraid she would see the monster again.
Or maybe she was just afraid of not seeing that monster.
She could not decide on a lot of things lately.
Alina had raised a hand, and Aleksander had not moved, pretending she was not there. She hadn’t expected a smile and a kiss as a greeting. The only thing between them was this: her, his captor, him, her prisoner. But Alina also knew that he did not hold a single whiff of anger towards her because of it. No, that part of him was gone. She had killed it.
Aleksander was broken, staring at a page of a book without moving his eyes. And the Darkling did not show his face.
She almost hoped he would. Almost hoped for the sneer and the manipulating, just so she would start seeing him as he truly was once more. Just so she could convince herself, once and for all, that there was nothing, not one part of him, worth saving.
“I have no apologies. Because my apologies would go unheard and be stepped on, rightfully so. I needed to leave the darkness to realize it. To see again.”
She’d believed him then. In that non-place they’d gone too when she’d pushed the knife into his chest. She’d wanted nothing else but to believe him, even though a part of her thought herself twisted for it.
But still, even if she believed his words, even if he meant them-
It was not enough.
Alina Starkov peeled herself off the wall, and, as she had always done, she marched on.
***
Nikolai Lantsov sat with his head braced on his arms, leaning against his desk. There was no crown on his head.
“To what do I owe this visit?” He’d drawled to her, somehow conjuring a smile only for Alina to see. It was such an easy, tortured smile, that Alina felt herself forced to retribute it with one of her own, even as small as it was.
She sat with him, took his glass of kvas and sipped it while she stared out the window. “I wanted silence.”
“You’re not going to have any with me,” he mused. “I have been informed by a few someones that I talk quite a lot.”
Alina did smile this smile. “That is the silence I need.”
“Pray tell,” he said. “What is on your mind?”
“I came to talk to you,” she said, “because I don’t know who else might understand.”
Nikolai straightened himself up, leaning his back against the creaky chair. He wore simple clothes – a white shirt tucked in dark green trousers, his boots still muddy from riding. She’d caught him almost falling asleep.
He waited, and when Alina didn’t speak, he filled up the glass. They shared it.
“Where’s Mal?” Nikolai asked.
“Sleeping,” Alina said. “He does that a lot these days. I wish I could sleep.”
“You are extremely depressing today, my love,” he huffed a laugh. “And though I do consider myself quite the depressing one these days, you might give me a run for my money.”
Alina stabbed his toe with her foot, and glared at him half-heartedly. “It’s not a competition.”
“Life is a competition, Alina,” he said seriously, and did not continue.
Alina sighed, sipped her drink, let it burn in her mouth, and sighed once more.
“So,” Nikolai said, sipping from the same glass, “Half of my people despise me, call me bastard, and want me off my throne; I was a beast who wanted to feed on human flesh for saints know how long just over a week ago, that was fun, and I have the task of rebuilding this kingdom, lead two armies in case any of the neighboring countries decide they want us dead more than they already did, and somehow still manage to have time to take a piss. But do tell me your problems, love, I’m all ears.”
Alina knew he was attempting humor to lift up her spirits as well as his own, but something in his words made her stop.
“Two armies?” She asked him. “I thought you appointed me as leader of the second army. Don’t you want me to lead the grisha?”
Nikolai gave her a secret smile, and took the drink from her hand, sipping the rest of it. He then said, “Yes, but you are leaving.”
Alina blinked, startled.
Nikolai eyed her momentarily, and asked, “Aren’t you?”
Alina paused, wondering what game he was playing at. But after a second’s pause, she realized that Nikolai had somehow known all along what her plans were. She knew for certain when he said, “Alina, I see the way you look out at the window. I know happiness is a foreign thing to grasp these days, but I also know that it is not unattainable. So, if you are unhappy, and you wish to leave, then do.”
She frowned, “What of the grisha?”
“I’ll find someone.”
“I can’t leave,” she said. “People are counting on me.”
“You were willing to die to save this country,” he said. “And you sort of did, for a while, at least. I would deem that sacrifice enough.”
“Every single one fighting that battle was willing to die to save this country,” Alina said back, crossing her arms, missing the weight of that stag collar, and dreading that thought in the same instant it crossed her mind. “What of the Darkling? What keeps him here?”
“You said it yourself he’s too weak,” Nikolai riposted. “Whatever you did to him when you tried to kill him, it turned him upside down. He barely moves all day. I have guards and grisha watching him and he has to be called to eat, to bathe.”
Alina’s gut churned, and she told herself that the guilt she was feeling was senseless.
He did this to himself.
Though she could not tear herself away from the memories that spun in her mind, the memories of a little boy clinging to a name he desperately did not want to forget, a boy being tugged by a hand to walk even when it was too cold. Always running, always afraid. A little boy who promised himself a better world. A safer world where people would not hurt him or the ones he loved. A little boy manipulated by darkness, that manipulated others in return. Who became something worse than a monster.
“I think he’s still an amplifier,” Alina said quietly. “I don’t think I erased his powers. I think-“ She paused, breathing in, choosing her words carefully. “I think that I somehow managed to eliminate the corrupted darkness that lurked there. I think that he simply does not know how to deal without it.”
Nikolai paused for a long while, staring out the window. He then said, “Do you think that everything he did was because of that darkness?”
“No,” Alina said. “He isn’t without fault, and he -knew what he was doing. But I can’t help but wonder what he could’ve done if the darkness hadn’t drove him that far. If he hadn’t pushed it that far.”
Nikolai then turned his eyes to her, staring intently. “With that part of him now supposedly gone, do you think he’s changed?”
Alina did not answer, and somehow that was an answer in itself.
She was almost scared to look at her friend’s face.
But Nikolai only said, “You want to believe so.”
“I’m simply saying that he regrets it. I believe and saw that much. Is it enough?” She shook her head, paused, swallowed the lump in her throat. She said, almost to herself, “I don’t know.”
“Alina…”
“I know what he is,” she whispered, looking up. “I know what he’s done.”
Nikolai didn’t say anything.
“If you’re leaving,” Nikolai said after a while, refilling his drink, “at least come visit, every once in a while.”
Alina stared at him. “Won’t you try to persuade me to stay?”
“I know you will not hesitate to come to my aid shall it be needed, Alina,” Nikolai said, his voice somehow still hoarse from all that time not using it. “Unless you wish to tell me that, if I ask you to stay, you will.”
Alina’s heart felt like stone breaking apart when she saw the quiet hope in his eyes.
“And how would I stay?”
“You know the answer to that,” he said, a small smile spreading on his lips. “My offer is still up.”
He extended a hand towards her, though there was no obligation there. She could take it, or leave it. And he would still smile upon her.
Alina realized that she rarely felt grateful for the people in her life, especially Nikolai. It was time to feel it more often.
She smiled, touched his hand, but then curved his fingers inwards, closing his hand into a first. Pushing it away from her gently. “I don’t want a marriage proposal.”
He huffed a laugh, still clinging to her hand. “I thought you’d say that. Worth the shot.”
“I’m not fit to be a queen, Nikolai,” she said. “And not fit to lead an army, to be a soldier.”
Nikolai smiled, “I would argue with that, but then again-“ He shrugged his shoulders, smiled wider. “I’m not in the business of making you unhappy, it seems.”
“I’m glad,” she said. “Because I’m not in the business of making you unhappy, either. Which is what you would’ve eventually become, have I accepted this delusional offer of yours.”
“I beg to differ-“
“It’s better this way,” she said softly.
Nikolai paused, then nodded, and squeezed her hand in return.
“When will you leave?”
“A week, maybe,” she said. “See if everything’s…stable.”
He sighed. Said, “Yeah.”
“You will be a great king, I do not doubt it,” she murmured. “You don’t need me, or an army of grisha or the Darkling. You will be grand, and I will be happy to see you shine from the sidelines.”
Nikolai nudged the glass to her, smiling. “You know, Alina, if your plan is truly to dissuade me away from you, then you’re not making it work.”
“Then I shall be taking this drink to my chambers and leaving you here sulking.”
“No,” he said, softer this time, a hint of a smile still on his lips. “Stay.”
So she did.
***
She thought of a lot of things.
Faking her death had been the first thing Alina had thought of. But two things had gone terribly wrong with that idea. First, the fact that everybody had seen her come back to life, along with the Darkling, and they’d seen how pretty much indestructible she was. Second, she was still the most powerful grisha in the world, and her powers did not go away with her simply wishing so.
But she could not live like this, she realized. She did not belong. She felt at odds here, always looking over her shoulder, always shying away from people and from her powers. Feeling cursed, every single day of her life.
Alina had never expected to face the Darkling and live.
And now that she had, and Aleksander had too…
She didn’t know her next move.
She just knew that she wanted to be out of here, and away. Far, far away, with Mal.
Mal.
She’d been distant from him. Pulling away from his touch the moment he fell asleep next to her, wanting to not feel the pressure of his chest against her back. Everytime he touched her, Alina felt like she’d betrayed him all over again.
Because she was all too aware of the phantom hands that had held her days before, in that non-place. It had felt too real, and been, in fact, too real. She’d felt his lips against hers, his body pressed against hers, and Alina had allowed the monster to crawl back and into her heart, and as it turns out, his nails dig in deep. Too deep.
She’d allowed the Darkling to say her name like he loved her, craved her. She’d pushed herself closer to him, and touched his cheeks to look into his grey eyes. The Darkling had made her whisper his name in secret, had made her open up her heart, her soul, all so they could come back.
Or maybe it had been Aleksander all along.
She couldn’t tell the two versions of him she knew apart.
Still. Aleksander came with the Darkling – and always would. She could not separate them. What did it make of her, to want him? What did it make of her, to have wanted his everything, to have offered him a chance at forgiveness and let him taste her when the night before she had wrapped her arms around Mal and promised him-
Alina closed her eyes, and got up from the bed. Mal did not wake. If he did, he did not say a thing, and he did not follow her when Alina put on her kefta, and walked out of their chambers.
Even monsters can love.
Indeed. She loved plenty. She just didn’t love the right things, never did.
That’s why Alina made her way down to the cellars below, where Nikolai had arranged a room to be made for the Darkling. The guards did not tear his eyes away from him as she approached.
Aleksander was not sleeping. He watched the sky from the small window at the top of the wall. And did not turn when he heard her voice telling the guards to go.
They did not defy her, and left promptly, no doubt in their minds that Alina would have some business with the heretic.
It’s what they called him – heretic. And her, the saint.
When they were alone, Alina stared at him from the other side of the bars, her heart heavy.
Aleksander said from his bed, “I would ask you to kill me.”
Alina’s attention sprung, and she blinked her too-dry eyes at him. His voice was rough from the disuse.
“I would ask you to kill me,” he said again, “if there was a way that I would not be taking you with me. I don’t think I can bear to kill you. Even if it is to end this misery.”
Alina said, “You’ve wanted to kill me before.”
He didn’t speak.
She said, “You’ve wanted to hurt me, use me, to get my powers. Just so you could get your world.”
Finally, he turned his head. He was dressed in a white shirt and loose trousers, his sleeping clothes. His hair was still damp from the bath he’d taken before, she supposed, and the strands fell dark and rebellious over his forehead. Alina watched the way the moonlight fell on the corner of his mouth, kissing the sharpness of his jaw, thinning his already sculpted nose. He was a lovely, terrible, broken picture.
And the only thing Alina could think of was not of the words she’d spoken and the memories they evoked, not of the terrible monster he had once been and maybe still was, and certainly not of the ache that she felt building inside her at his presence. Not even the way the power inside her bubbled excitedly, wanting to play, at feeling him so close.
No, the only thing Alina could think of was: He needs a haircut.
Aleksander said, “Are you reminding me or yourself of such things?”
“Both,” she said quietly.
“Why did you come here, Alina?”
Her jaw clenched. She was tempted to damn him to all hell and demand he never speak her name like that again.
“I’m to keep tabs on you,” she said, almost robotically. “See that you’re not going to call the shadows.”
“In the middle of the night, when all of the palace and the rest of the world is asleep?”
Alina fixed him with a look.
Aleksander leaned his head against the wall, watching her with those grey eyes. He was thinner. “When your otkazat’sya is asleep?”
“Don’t call him that.”
“It’s what he is.”
“You’re a monster and I don’t call you that,” she blurted out.
It was his turn to fix her with a look of his own: his eyes narrowed slightly, analyzing, almost curious, and his mouth closed. He simply said, “A monster that you love.”
“Don’t throw words at me and expect me to fall on my knees, Aleksander,” she said. “The time for that is long gone.”
“You would’ve never fallen on your knees for me, Alina,” he said. “And that’s not what I wanted.”
“Really?” She asked, crossing her arms, knowing perfectly well that she was wearing thin night clothes and her kefta, and that it was too cold in here, and he might catch a cold if they don’t warm this place up, and- “Just wanted to put a collar on me and keep me on a leash? Sit everytime you commanded it?”
“You paint a rather pretty picture. So much darkness.”
“You only gave me dark colors to paint with,” she responded sourly.
Aleksander nodded. He agreed.
She felt like she was standing there, accusing him senselessly yet rightly so, and he was not taking the bait. He pushed her words away as if he’d thought them himself, and already reached such conclusions. Alina didn’t know how to react to that.
She didn’t know what she wanted to get out of this.
She didn’t know.
“Looking back,” she said suddenly, leaning sideways against the bars, feeling herself needing support to speak the words, “would you have done the same, now that you know better?”
Aleksander went quiet for a while, staring at her while she stared at him. Slowly, he said, “Alina,” and then again, “Alina.” Tasting her name on his tongue, swirling it in his mind. Some mockery of a smile painted on his lips as he spoke again. “If you are looking for reasons to accept the feelings you don’t wish to nurture, you will not find yourself in luck. I won’t feed you reasons to love me. I am what I am, and I did what I did. Would I take it back? Yes, I would have done things differently. Very differently. Would I have killed to be safe, to protect myself, and then you? Yes. Everything else? Debatable.”
“Debatable,” she scoffed.
“Everything I did when it came to you-“ He stopped, and then looked away, shaking his head as if he thought there was no point. But he still forced the words out, “I’m sorry, Alina. I was blinded.”
“You’ve said that,” she murmured.
“And I meant it,” he said. “But, like I said, you want to find in me a man that is capable of change, a man that can love you, a man that can be redeemed,” he drummed his fingers on the stiff mattress. She watched the movement with piercing eyes. “He might exist, he might not. Anyway, who you love is the man that can change, and the man that killed to get what he wanted. That hurt you and your friends. You love all of him. And that is what kills you most.”
She swallowed hard, unblinking.
He continued, “I could forge every single meaningful apology I could manage, Alina. Make it pretty and worthy of you. I could do every good deed you thought necessary to change your opinion of me. But the truth would remain the same: none of what I did could be erased from your mind. And mine. And it would haunt us both.”
Alina was shaking, she realized. And not just from the cold.
Aleksander looked down at his hands. “You feel it too, don’t you? That beast gone. Bits still remaining, but…”
“You’re still an amplifier.”
“Yes,” he said. “I could still gather that much amount of power, but at a great cost to me. It would most likely kill me.”
“Because I killed that part of you.”
“You killed a lot of parts of me.”
Not enough.
“If you think,” Aleksander said, “that your king is safe, that your grisha are safe, that you are safe, think again. Those who don’t understand grisha will always hunt them, Alina. And those who do not understand you and me will always try to hurt us.”
“You still want revenge,” she said. “After all this time-“
“No,” he said. “I could care less about this world now. I will watch it burn with a grin on my face and a glass of kvas in one hand. I’m warning you.”
Alina parted her lips, urging the words to come out, but they never did.
Aleksander said, “Balance,” he murmured. “Is what I needed. All I needed.”
Bravery with kindness. Wanting power, but wanting to do good with that. That was the balance that he’d needed to restore the world, to make it a safer place. To make the world that that little boy in the woods at wanted.
It is what the darkness did not offer him.
“I’m just sorry I saw it too late,” he said at last, and then turned his gaze away.
Conversation over.
Alina turned to walk up the stairs, blinking back tears, when he said, “I wish he gives you brighter colors to paint with, Alina.”
Alina looked over her shoulder.
He had sounded genuine.
And terribly sad.
Alina nodded, swallowed, and marched on.
***
They had decided to go back to Keramzin, and rebuild.
It had been Mal’s idea.
Mal, who was awake and staring at the ceiling when Alina had returned to their room. A candle was lit. He looked at her, and Alina saw everything in those blue eyes: he knew.
She stood there, feeling fragile and horrible. Guilt and pain for hurting him all at once.
But Mal only said, “It’s alright, Alina.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m trying.”
He’d somehow known.
Her feelings, her inability to…heal.
He got up from the bed, walked to her, pulled her into an embrace. Alina welcomed it, and felt awful at wanting to push him away all the same.
Mal said gently, “When we leave, it will be different.”
She didn’t say anything.
Mal continued, though Alina felt as if he was speaking to himself only, “It will be different.”
She had to march on.
***
It was strange to think of him as lovely.
But he was.
He was lovely, as all intoxicating things are. It wasn’t simply his face, but his aura. The allure of him.
Alina sat with him outside his cell, her back against the hard, cold metal. Him on the other side. His back against the bars. Another sleepless night.
He said to her, “You can’t sleep?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I’m always dreaming,” she said. “No space for rest.”
Aleksander said, “I don’t dream at all.”
“If I let you go,” she said, her voice a murmur, trapped in these cold walls, “what will you do?”
“Disappear.”
“You lie.”
“I will leave,” he said, eyes closed. “I will leave, and try to erase you, and everything that happened. And breathe for once.”
“You’re lying,” she tried, closing her own eyes.
“I have no reason to lie now,” he said.
Alina turned to him, skin scraping against the rough rock underneath her. “You will manipulate me again, as you are now. You will turn your eyes away and pretend that you’re not willing to do everything you can to gain back the power, to put Nikolai out of the throne. You will manipulate my heart, dig your claws deep, and make me forget what you were.”
“I never want you to forget what I was,” he said. “I want the bad and the good present in your mind. No illusions, Alina. No lies.”
She breathed a sigh, tears spilling over her cheeks. She tried to silence them, shaking her head, but they kept coming.
Alina managed to say, “I wish I could erase you, Aleksander.”
Aleksander said, slowly, “I wish you could, too.”
He reached out a hand over the bars, and she took it. She clasped it tight, felt the coldness of his skin against her warmth. Soon enough, his hand was warm, too.
***
They did not leave after a week.
Three weeks passed, and Alina kept herself busy in the palace with politics and state matters. Their plans to leave for Keramzin still held, though she’d agreed to help with whatever she could, and stay for a while longer, just so the kingdom got back on its feet, if such a thing was possible. There were a lot of things to do, still.
Or maybe she was just stalling for time.
Mal didn’t try to touch her at night. He barely talked to her at all.
Alina pondered why – maybe he was giving her space, to figure things out on her own. Or maybe he knew all along, had known ever since she’d woken up, and had stayed to see how things would turn out.
When he came to bed, Alina was already lying on her side with her back turned, pretending to be asleep so he wouldn’t talk to her. She felt terrible, absolutely terrible, that she was this much of a coward, to the point where she couldn’t simply…talk to him.
But what would she say?
What was she even going to do?
Most of her nights were sleepless, watching Aleksander on the inside of his cell. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they touched hands, and sometimes they did nothing at all. They just stood in silence, next to each other, and somehow that was enough. Somehow.
There was one night when Aleksander had said, “I remember when I first saw you, it felt as if you were an answer to a question.”
“What question?”
“I had never dared to ask myself,” he answered, looking down at his finger, tracing the callouses on her thumb. They’d come to this strange compromise, which wasn’t really a compromise, though neither of them knew what to call it. “But my power answered to you. And it called out to you.” Aleksander closed his eyes, sighed loudly, and paused. And then, “It took me too long to realize it hadn’t been my power answering to you at all.”
“Then what?” Alina asked weakly.
“It was my heart all along.”
“I never took you for a romantic,” she said drily.
“This should make you run.”
“It doesn’t,” Alina murmured, eyes fixed on the stone wall. “You don’t scare me.”
“It would be better if I did.”
“Yes,” Alina admitted. “Yes, it would.”
Aleksander’s finger traced the scratch on her knuckle, feeling the soft skin around it. Alina seemed to breathe more easily as he did.
“You have not asked me to let you out,” she said. “Even though I practically put the offer in front of you.”
But as she’d said the words, Alina realized that he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t ask her or manipulate her to leave this place, because somehow, deep inside him, he knew that he deserved this and worse. He knew that he was supposed to pay for the crimes he’d committed, and his repentance would not erase that.
“What do you want?” She asked him.
“Peace,” he simply said.
“You and me will never have that,” Alina said, and believed her own words, for the first time in a long time.
Aleksander entwined their fingers, thumb gently tracing her hand, and Alina let him. He sat opposite of her, legs spread out on the cold stone, facing her.
Alina stared at their hands, recalled the number of nights they had done that, and said, “This is insanity.”
He’d just stared at her, head leaning against the bars, loveliness written in every inch of his face.
Lovely.
A lovely monster.
She said nothing, and instead reached out a hand over the bars, touching his face. Her hand paused over his cheek, feeling the warmth there. His eyes closed, and he breathed softly, slowly. Alina’s thumb traced his bottom lip, feeling the fullness there, then down the curve of his chin, his jaw.
Then she pulled away and Aleksander opened his eyes, as if startled. In that second alone, Alina saw the fear gather in the grey depths. She saw the way he’d almost reached out and touched her hand, begging for her to stay.
But she hadn’t left.
She got up, touched the bars, and removed the shield she’d placed there. Her eyes never leaving his, as she opened the bars with one movement of her fingers, without key in sight. Aleksander lifted himself up, lips parted, blinking, as she stepped in.
Alina closed the doors behind her, her back against the metal. She watched him, warily, feeling that same power drumming inside her, waking before me. Her mind went blank as she watched his lean frame stiffen, the confusion and adoration in his eyes reaching deep into her heart.
The guilt and the anger and the frustration and the worry faded from her mind as she approached him. He almost seemed afraid again. At her closeness, he swallowed hard, bracing himself. She did too.
Alina touched his cheeks, leaned him down, and kissed him softly.
It was an odd feeling to chase him. To be the one to want him. It was odd, and wonderful.
Aleksander touched her cheek, brushing her hair away, and slowly kissed her back, the rush sending them both running for the edge. Something snapped inside of him.
His hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, and Alina found herself not at all afraid, but thrilled, as he deepened the kiss. As he eagerly took whatever she gave him, a mind who hadn’t felt the touch of the sun on his face in a long, long time.
He tipped her head back, his hand at the nape of her neck, while he tasted her lips. Alina’s heart felt ready to jump out of her throat as she let her hands roam over his chest, the thin shirt clinging to him. Some twisted part of her mind made her sigh and whisper his name lowly, consuming every single sensible thought she could ever have again.
Under his breath, he said, “Don’t let me wake up.”
“What,” she whispered.
Aleksander opened his eyes, his hands on her cheeks. And as she looked into that grey, Alina knew that he might kneel, if she asked him too. He could’ve tried to trap her here, and gathered the shadows to escape.
He was here, breathing her name, telling her he wanted her.
“I need this to be real,” he murmured, leaning his forehead against hers. “What have you done to me, Alina. What have you done.”
Nothing could have prepared her for the kiss that he gave her.
The sensual movements of his lips against hers, his tongue slowly tracing the top of her bottom lip-
She didn’t know how long they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms. But when Alina pulled her lips away, he only dragged his down to her throat. She gasped audibly when he went further down, to the top of her collarbone, and nipped at the skin with his teeth.
Her hands were in his hair.
He pulled away, kissed her once, twice, dropped his hands.
Alina still had her eyes closed, dizzy with his taste, his smell.
Aleksander started backing her into the wall.
“I-I have to go,” she murmured, breathing hard. “Sun’s rising in a few hours.”
“Hm hm,” he said, and kissed her again.
Alina melted.
“Aleksander,” she tried, but then she was wrapping her arms around his neck, and not believing how tender his lips felt against hers, how warm he felt – all over.
Her core was burning as he lifted her up, against the wall, and groaned against her mouth. The sound sparked something inside her, and as Alina touched the hair at the back of his neck, she found herself glowing.
Radiant. Bright, so bright.
Aleksander sat on the bed, taking her with him, her legs on either side of him.
She paused to breathe, staring at him, his hair clinging to her forehead, hers clinging to his cheeks. They’d been so immersed in each other they’d forgotten to be quiet, forgotten where they even were, and who they are along with it.
Aleksander stared at her lips, his breath against them, and then closed his eyes again.
“I have to go,” she said again, so quietly, coming back to herself.
Yet there was no shame, where she expected it to be. No regret.
“Yes,” he breathed, and the word was an undoing to her.
Alina peeled herself off him with difficulty, wrapping her robe back around herself.
Before she turned to go, Aleksander touched her hand. Alina stopped, watching him.
“Come back.”
“I can’t,” she whispered.
Aleksander did not drop her hand, his eyes did not leave hers.
Alina pulled away, fingers gliding over his, and walked out of the cell. The hurt at locking him inside felt like a betrayal, too. It had all felt like a betrayal. But Alina could not begin to feel anything else other than pain – at seeing him like this.
Turn away.
“This can’t happen,” she said to him.
His eyes lowered, tracing her body.
Alina felt her body heat increase, head to toe, and that was her cue to leave.
“Come back,” he said again.
Alina did try. She really did. But in the end she gave in to weakness, and gazed back at him. She only stopped when she closed the door to the dungeons. All the way back to her rooms she realized she’d never put back the shield. All the way back to her rooms, those eyes did not leave her mind.
The next morning, when she’d visited with Nikolai by her side, Aleksander was still there, despite the non-existent shield.
***
“I want to let you go,” she said to him three nights after.
Aleksander watched her intently. She hadn’t made a move to come inside the cell.
Alina swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “I want you to leave Ravka, and disappear. If you hurt anyone, I will kill you, Aleksander.”
He believed her.
Aleksander stayed silent as she spoke, her hands shaking, her breathing staggered, as if she were holding back the choking tears, but to no avail. “If Nikolai lets you go, you never show your face here again. Do you understand me?”
No answer.
Alina was close to breaking down. “This is the last time you see my face. If I have to see you again, it’s because you’ve given me reason to end you.” The paused, gathering herself, the words she’d rehearsed in her head time and time again cutting the air from her lungs. “Wherever you go, I can feel you. You will never be rid of me. If you call the shadows, I will know. And I will not miss your heart this time.”
Aleksander stayed stoic, as still as stone. Even as he said, “In such a scenario, you die as well.”
“Do you think I have any qualms about dying?”
He frowned, wanting to say something, but he kept his silence intact as she continued. “I give you freedom, and you will not call upon me. In return, we’ll both have peace.”
“Where will you go?”
“That’s for me to know.”
“Your king has agreed to this?” Aleksander said, pacing around the room. “No, he can’t have. He won’t let me go this easily, even if he does trust your word.”
“You don’t know Nikolai like I do.”
“Oh, so you’ve persuaded him?”
She flinched at the implication in his voice, and then sneered at him, holding on to the bars as a threat. “I know you’re just being defensive because you’re hurt, but if you think I needed to get into his bed to get him to trust my opinion, then you don’t know me at all.”
“What of the grisha?” He narrowed his eyes. “They will all despise you for letting me go. They’ll think you’re endangering them on purpose.”
“As I said,” she told him. “That is for me to deal with.”
Aleksander barely flinched at the coldness in her. “You want me to go?”
“What else is there?”
She hadn’t let herself imagine-
Alina hadn’t allowed herself to think of a possibility where she’d join him.
“Come with me,” he murmured.
“No.”
“Alina,” he said. “Come with me.”
“And do what?” The tears came at last. “Be what?”
Aleksander’s shoulders hunched, as if he hopelessly tried to search for an answer to give you.
“You will never settle for just…being,” she said, wiping at her eyes angrily.
“Is that what you want?” He said. “To pretend you’re nothing? To pretend these powers don’t mean anything? To pretend that I’m nothing to you?”
“Stop-“
“You were not born for an ordinary life, Alina. The sooner you realize that the sooner you’ll be happy-“
Alina clenched her fists, and the light banged against the metal bars, rattling them. The guards came promptly, checking for the noise, and by then Alina had composed herself, nodding to them, assuring everything was fine.
When they left, she murmured, “You do not speak for me ever again. Don’t you dare. What do you know of making me happy?”
“You know it’s true,” he said, touching the bars himself, his face inches away from hers. “You know it, too. You’ve thought it. You want to leave and pretend you’re normal and live like an otkazat’sya, but that is not what you are, Alina.”
Alina stopped, gathering herself, reminding herself of the real reason why she was here. “Don’t come for me, and I won’t come for you,” she said. “When you leave, remember I will know your every move. I will find you, and end you at last. Even if it ends me too. I will do it.”
Silence.
Alina turned to go, chin held high.
Before she moved out of his gaze, Alina stopped, and turned to look at him. She ignored the hurt flashing in his eyes. She said, “You’re no longer a threat. I’m now more of a threat than you will ever be. Remember that.”
With that, she turned. Marched on.
***
Nikolai called her crazy.
Then he checked for her temperature.
Then he called her crazy again.
“I will stop him if he even tries anything,” she said flatly.
“Oh? Then why not keep him here and simply not take the chance?”
“Nikolai,” she said, dragging out his name, huffing tiredly. Alina leaned her head against his desk as she bent over, wanting to simply sleep, and sleep, and sleep for the rest of eternity.
“I don’t understand it,” he said, sitting on the chair next to hers, watching her warily. “Explain it to me, Alina. What happened when you almost died?”
“He’s too weak to harm anyone,” she said. “And if he attempts it-“
“You’ve said that,” Nikolai interrupted. “But you’ve also said that he can still summon the shadows. Can’t he grow stronger? Can’t he still draw an army of beasts and kill us all?”
“Not to that extent,” Alina said.
“Is there a chance that you might be mistaken?”
Alina slowly shook her head. “No,” she murmured. “I can feel it, Nikolai. It’s not something you can explain, it’s…”
Nikolai’s brows furrowed together, one leg crossing over the other. His shoulders filled with tension.
“You want to give him a second chance,” Nikolai said. “It’s what you’re saying.”
Alina stayed silent, and that was answer enough.
“Do you think he deserves it?” He asked next.
“You might think me absolutely insane, but-“
“I think whatever happened between you two, he must have put some kind of ancient spell on you or something,” Nikolai said. “Because you sound nothing like yourself.”
Alina bit her lip. “Nikolai – wouldn’t you want a second chance?”
“If I’d done the things that he has?” Nikolai prompted, and then went silent, looking out the window. He sighed, and said, “If I don’t have him here, if I can trust you’ll watch over him, protect us, then I don’t have to spare half an army of grisha to stand watch-“
“And you’ll need your grisha,” Alina pointed out.
“If you give me every assurance that it is not needed,” Nikolai said, holding up a finger. “And if you can tell me that you are 100% positive that he will not go on a rampage and kill us all-“
“Do you think I would let that happen?” Alina said. “I can reach him like that,” a snap of her fingers. “And end his life even faster.”
“And end your own.”
“It’s a risk I am willing to take.”
“Just to give him a second chance? To be the better person? You’ll put your life and ours in danger?”
“It’s one less worry off your back,” Alina said. “If you’ll let me deal with him.”
Nikolai watched her warily. He knew some points made sense, but Nikolai wasn’t exactly in the right mood to be merciful. However, he was certain that Alina would not be defending this case as eagerly if she believed, even for a second, that the danger was real.
He hesitated, but said, “The people won’t react well to a new king releasing their biggest fear.”
“You won’t release him,” Alina said to him. “He will escape. We will find him, and kill him.” Alina said. “In theory.”
Nikolai paused. “And you will die with him. In theory.”
Alina nodded slowly.
“A new identity,” Nikolai said slowly. “I would never see you again.”
“You could see me again,” Alina said. “If necessary, if the Darkling comes to destroy you, I will come back from the dead and restore peace to Ravka for the hundredth time. I’m a saint, after all.”
“You’ve thought of everything,” the king said, huffing a laugh. It wasn’t without its humor. “Alina, this has every chance of not working.”
“It has every chance to, as well,” Alina said, touching his hand. “If you trust me.”
“Saints, woman,” he said.
Alina said, “Give him the benefit of the doubt. Let him see that you trust me, that you will release him. Show him your goodness. He will not riot against you.”
“Do you think the Darkling cares if he owes me a life dept?” Nikolai scoffed.
“I’m bound to think that there’s no Darkling anymore,” Alina murmured. “Or if there is…he has no wish to come out and play.”
“How can you be so sure of his mind?” Nikolai asked, more curious than judgmental.
“I’ve seen it – all of it. The good and the bad.”
“When you almost-?”
“Yes,” Alina nodded. “He…he can change, Nikolai. Call me a fool. Call me a traitor. Call me twisted for believing so, but it’s there. If he’s just given the chance. No, it will not erase his mistakes. It will never change the fact that he hurt me and you. But wouldn’t it be better if he had the chance to prove himself a different man, rather than stay in this path forever?”
Forever.
For as long as they both lived.
Alina hadn’t let herself think about that, either. An eternity of this. A life that would surpass Nikolai’s, and Mal’s, and-
Nikolai’s eyes stayed fixed on her for a long while. Enough that the sun changed positions, and was now glaring straight at her. Alina did not back down. She watched him back, but almost choked when Nikolai suddenly said, “There’s more.”
Alina blinked, watching him, not letting herself crumble.
“What.”
And Nikolai wasn’t angry or disgusted or appalled. None of that. He said it like he might’ve commented on the weather. He said to her, “You love him.”
She always knew the king was good at reading people. He’d always been good at reading her. But being able to see that deep-
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she tried to make her tone flat.
He parted his lips, as if that was a confirmation, and not an insult. “Alina.”
She got up, trembling. Nikolai followed her.
“You really do,” he said, searching her eyes. “You do love him.”
She could only shake her head, brows furrowed, because whatever she said would be of no use. He’d seen it. Somehow, he’d seen it. As Mal had.
Alina leaned against the desk, hands flat on the wood, and sighed. “Nikolai, this isn’t about that.”
“I don’t know if I should laugh. That’s…wow.”
“Nikolai, please-“
“All this time,” he put a hand on his waist, eyebrows rising up to his hairline. “I was supposed to be competing with the Darkling?”
“You’re humored by this?”
“Alina,” he laughed, he really did laugh. Alina expected everything but that. She was certain he did, too. “That is hysterical. It does make sense. But saints, you really know how to choose them.”
She frowned. “Are you done.”
“Not quite,” he wiggled a finger. “Because if what I’m seeing all over your face is true…then he loves you too. What in the world. I’m not even…wow. Damn, I never really had a chance, did I?”
Alina must’ve looked absolutely horrified, for Nikolai chuckled. “I get it now.”
“This is not because of-“
“It is, a little bit,” he said. “You want to give him a chance because you love him, and that’s understandable. But your boyfriend is a psychotic killer and I hope you know that.”
“Saints, Nikolai-“ She placed her palms over her eyes, turning away from him. “Be serious for one second, please.”
“What reaction did you expect me to have?”
“I’d thought you’d throw me out the window, if I’m being perfectly honest with you.” She frowned. “You’re…alright with this?”
“With you being in love with the man that turned me into a murderous chicken? Hell, Alina,” he shook his head, a crooked grin on his face. “I don’t have to be alright with it, it’s your life. And I really don’t want to judge, but…gee.”
“I know,” she said hopelessly.
“Does Mal…?” He started.
But Alina cut him off. “I’m here to talk about something else. I’m not feeding your gossip. And I’m hoping this will stay between us.”
“Yes, because I’m dumb enough to go tell the world the most powerful grisha is in love with the Darkling, and expect said powerful grisha not to blind me on the spot.”
“I wouldn’t blind you,” Alina countered.
“Just make me into a stew?”
Alina said, “Give me a chance. It is all I ask.”
Nikolai paused, face becoming serious. “Tell me he won’t hurt you or anyone else.”
“I promise,” she said.
Nikolai closed his eyes. He crossed the pros and cons. Made himself think of the advantage of having the Darkling by his side, and not against him.
“I will offer him a deal,” Nikolai said.
“Nikolai,” Alina began to warn.
“If you told me to give him a chance, then I’m not taking any risks, Alina. And that includes leaving him to wonder alone in the woods without me knowing exactly what the hell he’s doing. I trust you and your…telepathic powers or whatever, but I can’t just…let him go and not know.”
Alina sighed. “What’s the deal?”
“He’ll stay, and help me rebuild.”
Alina paused.
And Nikolai raised a brow. “D’you think he won’t agree to it? Knowing the threat you pose to him now? You’ve told me you keep tabs on him, anyway. That you can’t help but feel his presence, wherever he is. If he steps out of line, you know where to find him.”
“He won’t harm you,” Alina said firmly. “Not even for the throne.”
“If you say so,” Nikolai said, gesturing with a hand towards her. “Then I believe you. Probably a big, big mistake, but I believe you. If he allies himself with me under an oath, and you promise to come out of your hiding and keep his own abilities in check, then we have a deal.”
Alina pondered this.
Would Aleksander agree to this?
What Nikolai is offering him is exactly what he’d wanted in the beginning. A chance for a united world, where he would be safe. A chance to redeem himself, in the same position he’d had before she had come along. A position of power, but to do good.
A balance.
“He will be under vigilance at all times still, you know this,” Nikolai said. “But if it’s your intention to give him a chance and still part from him, from us, then this is the right way to do it, Alina.”
“I will talk to him,” Alina said.
“If you trust him to go off on his own, then surely you trust him to stay right here, and not cause any harm.”
Alina pursed her lips, and then nodded.
“Very well,” Nikolai said. “I will go down with you tonight so I can explain my terms.”
Alina could only nod again.
And Nikolai, despite it all, threw a smirk her way, and said, “As long as you’re able to keep your hands off of him-“
Alina had half a mind to throw a paper weight to his head.
She threw the pillow instead, and hit him straight in the face.
***
“It’s your choice,” Nikolai said to him, hands clasped together, staring at the Darkling behind bars. “A chance for your people to see that you’ve changed, your motives have changed.”
“They won’t believe you,” the Darkling said. “You have more to lose than to gain. Why do this?”
He then threw a glance at Alina, standing by the king. Alina stared back, unmoving, unfeeling.
“You are still powerful,” Nikolai said. “And I still need a powerful grisha at my side. Do good. Your people won’t turn on you as you’ve turned on them soon enough.”
The Darkling narrowed his eyes. “Why trust me.”
Nikolai pointed with a thumb at Alina. “She told me to.”
“She told you to?”
“He knows I’ve almost succeeded in killing you once,” Alina said, arms crossed. “And he knows that I will not hesitate to do it again, if I have to. And I can kill you with half a thought,” Alina continued. “I’ve gone into your mind before. I barely need time to reach you. So,” she said, “decide.”
The Darkling didn’t seem unfazed by her threats, though Nikolai saw that he believed them thoroughly. And whatever was…going on between them, the Darkling still stared at her like…
There was devotion there, and understanding. Two predators seizing each other up before clawing their way to each other.
Nikolai was weirded out beyond relief.
“Prove yourself useful,” he said. “And you will have your position. Or go wondering around the woods, or whatever. Either way, she’s in charge of you from now on.”
The Darkling barred his teeth at him, but Nikolai knew it had to bite to it. And Nikolai knew, just by looking at their strange dynamic, that the risk of losing her, of killing her, was more frightening to the man standing in front of him than anything else.
Her life was worth more than revenge, than anything the Darkling might ever want.
Interesting indeed.
“I will stay,” the Darkling said.
And that was that.
He was released, and Alina did not seem too tense by it. Nikolai wondered if it had been the right decision, to make the Darkling his ally in these troublesome times. If war against Fjerda became a real thing…if he fought with them-
Weak, but still more powerful than Nikolai would ever be.
“Well,” he said, clapping his hands. “Have to go write a very, very convincing introduction speech now, so that my people don’t turn on me for this. If you’ll excuse me.” Nikolai turned away and walked up the stairs. But before he could pass the threshold, he heard:
“Trust goes both ways,” Alina murmured to the Darkling, her gaze like steel. “Now, try me.”
And when Nikolai had turned, he’d seen the longing in the Darkling’s face as he’d looked down at Alina. And the desperation of a man that could never have what he most desired as she turned her back to him and walked up the stairs to him.
Alina passed him without a word.
The Darkling turned his gaze away, and Nikolai had never seen that amount of torture in one man alone.
***
His old rooms felt empty.
Aleksander sat in his bed, the black silk under his hands.
It felt oddly unfamiliar. Like a life he’d lived before, and was now part of his past.
He let his head fall to the pillow. He conjured a shadow, and another one. Weak wisps of air, simply to distract him.
She’d taken everything. Practically all that had made him the Darkling. Ripped away the parts of him he’d cultivated for so, so long.
Aleksander breathed a sigh of relief.
He let go of the shadows, and they faded into the air.
He smiled.
***
Mal did not take well to the news, which was expected.
Alina wasn’t in the mood.
So when he’d come screaming, she’d explained it. Not like she’d explained it to Nikolai, no. She’d given mal political excuses, because that was all she could really offer.
He’d stormed off, and Alina hadn’t followed him.
She’d laid her head on the pillow, and sighed. Made a ball of light slowly spin in her hands. Saw a man with black hair twirling shadows in his hands, a smile on his face.
After a while, Alina had smiled in answer.
***
Mal often stared at her with fear.
She wondered what he truly saw in her.
But she never asked, and he never told her.
She pretended, as she was supposed to, and, as always, as she’d done all her life, she marched on.
***
That had led her to his chambers.
It was not in her nature anymore to feel any shame, apparently.
This was who she was now.
Leaving her empty bed to find comfort in the arms of the man who’d hurt her.
To love a monster, you have to become one, too.
Maybe that was a lie. Maybe to love a monster, you had to become something worse.
And yet, as she’d often done those past few weeks, Alina had no space in her mind to ponder about her morals, about her heart.
She didn’t knock, because he was expecting her. She knew he was. It was the middle of the night, and the world was asleep. This was when the monsters came together.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she murmured to him, closing the door behind her.
He was lying on his bed, a book that he slowly placed on his nightstand opened in the middle. Aleksander took one look at her, sat up, and said, “Alina,” with a certain questioning tone in his voice.
His eyes traced the black robe she was wearing.
And back up again.
Alina swallowed her fear, the turmoil of emotions bubbling in her stomach, and said, “I’m leaving, and I will not see you again.”
He didn’t answer, knowing a lie the second it left her lips.
Still, Alina moved towards him, all shaking hands and clenched jaw.
How she’d changed.
Or maybe this had always been lurking underneath – this girl who was steel and fire both. The girl who took what she wanted, and did not apologize for it.
Odd, the places where she found her strength.
Odd that he was simultaneously both things – her strength and weakness.
His legs dangled off the bed, his bare feet touching the ground, and he watched her with the kind of intent a cat watches a mouse.
But she was no mouse. Not anymore.
She was standing in front of him, a breath away, attempting to control her breathing.
Aleksander’s breath fanned over her collarbones.
Slowly, he raised his hands. He let the tips of his fingers glide over the silken robe, over the outside of her thighs, her hips her waist. She was already in shambles. And he seemed mesmerized.
“Just once,” she whispered to him. “Just once, and then I leave.”
Aleksander did not say a thing. Not as Alina climbed to his lap, his knees on either side of him. Even then the closeness had her head spinning, her vision blurring.
He dipped his head, kissed the spot of her collarbone where he’d bitten nights and nights ago. A lifetime ago, it now seemed. Alina let out a ragged breath when his head dipped lower. Down to her cleavage. A kiss there, marking her.
Her mouth fell open, her eyes fell closed.
And she fell altogether.
Aleksander pushed her down onto the mattress, arms on either side of her head. He pulled a hair away from her face delicately, watching her. He touched her behind her knee, yanked her down to his eye-level. Alina gasped, feeling his finger tracing the outside of her leg again, skin on skin.
Her mind was blank when he slowly undid her robe. So, so, slowly. She’d almost begged him to tear it off, and almost did it herself when he’d simply paused, before opening it fully.
She shivered, and not because the cold kissed her bare skin. But because he did.
It took time, to kiss every inch of her. But he did it anyway. With precision, and oh so slowly once more, making it last a lifetime. And Alina did not think beyond his mouth, his eyes staring down at her as he made a pathway of open-mouthed kisses down her stomach.
She’d stopped him when he reached her naval, and pulled him towards her.
Aleksander did not seem too happy to be distracted by his purpose, but Alina could care less about what he wanted.
She pushed his shirt open, and pulled him up, to a sitting position. Her robe warmed her shoulders, her back, but that his hands were soon pushing it away, off of her. His eyes swept over her, almost glazed over, intent on taking in every inch of her body.
Never mind that she was fumbling with his trousers for saints know how long, blushing from her toes to her hairline. Never mind that she did not have the amount of experience that he did. Nothing mattered.
He’d pulled down his trousers, kicking them off him, pulling her back down, wanting to go back to his previous mission. Alina attempted to take the reins, but he would have none of that, and in the end, she let herself lay back, dizzy with his kiss, enjoying the lazy battle for control between the two.
How he could kiss her so tenderly and make her burn at the same time, she did not know.
When he pulled away, she watched him above her, all lovely, sharp edges. Hers.
“Yours,” he said, as if he knew.
She could pretend, for only this once. That she wasn’t terrible, and he wasn’t terrible, and the world had been made for them and not be made to always be against them. She could pretend not to be conflicted, and simply-
Let herself love him.
“Please,” she murmured, and she didn’t know what she was asking for, exactly. She knew she was leaving. And yet.
And yet.
Aleksander responded in kind, kissing her once, and a second time, diving into her body, discovering places and making her ache and burn.
He watched her from between her legs, dark brows lifted as if in a challenge, as he kissed the inside of her thigh.
Alina breathed hard, unable to control the sudden jerks of her hips, the shaking of her legs and hands at every kiss he planted on the sensitive skin.
He laughed suddenly, slow and low, against her skin. Alina thought she might kill across battlefields to hear that sound for the rest of her life.
There was a strange vulnerability surrounding him in bed. A delicate hesitance to him, in everything he did. It was something she had not expected. He looked up everytime before dragging his lips elsewhere, paused before touching her.
“Restless, are you,” he said, teasing. This side of him had her aching.
“Enough,” she panted, touching his hair. “Come here.”
He pulled her hand off him, pinning it to the mattress at her side.
With one look at her, he leaned his head down, kissing her fully. Immediately, Alina clenched her thighs together, letting out a surprised breath.
Aleksander did not stop.
He parted her legs, shoulders preventing her from closing them again, licking and kissing and biting the skin of her inner thighs, before going back to her center.
Alina saw fireworks behind her eyelids. Felt herself losing her grip on the world too fast. He didn’t leave her like that for too long, though – he gave her everything. So when it was over, and she was left writhing on the sheets and clawing at his shoulders, Alina could barely open her eyes. And even then, his fingers, soft and gentle, made her say his name in muffled gasps against his chest.
“Stop,” she murmured, unable to say more.
And he’d stopped.
Watching her face, Aleksander blinked. “Alina.”
She kept mumbling, “Saints, saints, saints,” under her breath.
He placed a kiss on her cheek, another on her jawline. “Talk to me.”
“I need you to…stop. For two seconds.”
He laughed again – that same laugh. Probably the laugh only his lovers knew of.
Alina felt intensively territorial of that laugh – she wanted it to belong to her only.
And, stupidly, she was smiling. Shaking her head. She’d never felt such things.
He pulled her down with him, her head on his chest. Alina breathed, eyes closed, the smell of his bare skin too much for her to handle. And yet she clung to him, and found herself happy to stay.
Slowly, she moved, touching her lips to his. Lazily, she traced his jawline with her lips, let her hand glide over the expanse of his chest. It was a possessive touch, and Aleksander quirked his eyebrows up at her, entertained by it.
Alina leaned down, hovering above him, kissing the line of his throat, and then the side of his neck. There, she let her teeth explore the skin. To her dark satisfaction, he let out a sudden, unexpected breath. His hands drifted down her waist to her thighs.
She bit him hard enough to leave a pretty mark.
“That,” she said, kissing the mark, “is mine.”
Aleksander stiffened, breathing in deep.
Her lips were on his chest next. Another bite, right in the center of it. He blinked at her, enjoying the small pain of it, and the soft caress of a kiss she left there afterwards. “Mine too,” she declared, looking up at him.
The side of his stomach had another mark to match. “That too,” Alina said.
She drifted down, and down. His thigh was next.
He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t draw a small breath.
“Alina,” he said.
She left all sorts of nice little marks for him to find later, the last one being below his belly button. She kissed him there, once, twice, and a third time. She went further down.
Aleksander touched her cheeks, groaning under his breath, and brought her lips to his in a burning kiss. He might’ve let her continue, but he’d never been a patient man.
Alina moaned low and soft against his mouth when he pulled himself up, and her with him, his fingers digging into her back. And this time, it was him who begged her, “Please.”
Alina touched his cheeks, adjusting her body. She fit him perfectly. Her hand in his, fingers entwined, did too. A perfect match.
“Please,” he said again into their kiss, desperate enough.
Alina touched her forehead to his, and he helped her sink down into him slowly, carefully. Her brow furrowed, her eyes fallen closed. She paused, a hand at his chest, breathing deep.
“What-?” He tried.
“Just give me a moment,” she said, touching her lips to the corner of his mouth.
Aleksander caressed the sides of her body, frowning, “Am I hurting you?”
She only shook her head, but he knew it for the lie that it was. Aleksander attempted to pull away, but she kept him in place.
The feel of her was blinding him, making his body react in ways it never had. His hands shook as he held her to him, his breathing ragged as he left gentle kisses on her shoulder, pulling her hair away, letting it fall over her back.
It suddenly didn’t matter.
When Alina smiled at him, it didn’t matter – none of it. For just one second, he’d erased everything he’d done and said. He’d erased years and years of memories of fear and anger.
She was so close, and when she smiled, she had a dimple, and he’d never noticed it. She’d never smiled at him like this. Unknowingly, he was smiling with her too, a quiet contentment settling over them both.
And then Alina moved her hips.
He stopped breathing for a second, feeling as if someone had punched the air out of his lungs.
She moved tentatively, awkwardly, until they both found a slow rhythm that made them both sigh and groan under their breaths.
“Say it once,” he asked her.
Alina stopped moving, swallowing down a lump in her throat.
“Please,” he said.
His eyes were pale, melted silver burning into her. She’d remembered seeing that color everywhere, looking for it in strangers, when they’d been apart.
She didn’t have the words, so she kissed him, gently.
Aleksander said, “I love you,” his arms wrapped around her, his breath against hers. “I love you, Alina.”
His hips lifted, and she parted her mouth, pain and discomfort gone, leaving only her desire for him. She couldn’t speak. Could barely draw a breath.
“I love you,” he murmured again, an answer to her moan.
Alina was clinging to his hair, throwing her head back and giving him space to mark her neck, her breasts, wherever he wanted to reach. She wouldn’t get enough of this – of him – she realized. Not tonight, not in an entire lifetime.
He bit into her neck and her whole body trembled.
“I can’t,” she managed to say, gasping when it became too much, all at once.
Aleksander eased her down, his lips on hers, the muscles of his shoulders moving underneath her touch. He controlled the rhythm now, going steady, somehow managing to make her see stars, over and over again.
“Yes,” he touched her cheek, touched his lips to hers. “You can, Alina.”
Her eyes fell shut, her body tensed, her legs clenching on either side of him. She could not keep silent, she could not keep still.
“Please, Alina.”
She brought his lips down to hers, and Aleksander had let out a soft sound, like a piece of glass shattering, vulnerable, so vulnerable, as he fell over that edge. Still, his eyes were focused on her, hips moving in all the right ways, and it was only two breaths later that she shattered too.
It all went very still and very quiet for a long while.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead, his hair clinging to his skin, and did not move, as if he was afraid it would all disappear.
Alina opened her eyes and watched him watching her.
A moment’s pause, when the world was quiet, and it was only her and him.
Shadows wrapped around her glowing hands, and she watched them with a soft of calm distraction, spinning his shadows in her hand. He whisked them away, leaving her clinging to nothing. “I’m not afraid,” she said to him, turning his chin, his eyes, to her. “Bring them back.”
He did, eyeing her with quiet surprise.
Alina watched the shadows revolve around her, dark and light grey mixing together and around them. They did not quiver at the sun, at the glow around them. Aleksander traced it – down her cheek, her chest. The drum of her power beating through him.
When their breathing settled, so did their powers, fading into the darkness of his room, dimmed, and yet still there, wrapped around each other.
Alina laid her head against his chest, allowing him to push her to him, his forehead against hers. He did not leave her. And she refrained from running either.
There was no running from this. From him.
“I’m not afraid of you,” she said to him.
Aleksander watched her.
And she whispered, “I’m afraid of myself.”
He understood it all too well. As only he could.
“Aleksander,” she tasted his name on her tongue, the name she could never let him forget.
He visibly trembled, eyes closed.
She whispered it – to the shadows, to him. To the man that held her and the man he’d once been. She whispered to all of him, “I love you.”
He’d gone very, very still.
And then he was kissing her.
And she was clinging to him.
And he was lost in her again, as she was lost in him, light and dark both entwined in some way, forever to be kept that way, even when they were both apart.
And as Aleksander kissed her, as he murmured the words back to her, Alina realized that she had learned to paint with the colors that life had given her.
So maybe she could start painting with those darker colors.