Page 45 of Broken Embers

“Sabrina!” Oleksi’s soft voice cuts through my tormenting thoughts. His hand reaches out to move some hair behind my ear. “Where did you go?”

“I just have a lot on my mind.” I give him a tight smile. “Sorry. Just give me time.”

He leans in, presses his mouth to mine, soft at first, then deeper. Fiercer.

I respond like a woman drowning, fingers gripping his jacket, body arching toward his. It isn’t about lust. It’s about survival. It’s about feeling something that isn’t fear. It isn’t pain. Isn’t… guilt!

I pull him down with me into the moss, into the shadows of the trees. My hands are in his hair. His hands are under my fleece. Our breaths are harsh, tangled, raw.

Clothes are pushed aside. Unzipped and pulled down just enough.

His fingers slide between my thighs, and I whimper at the contact—needy, aching.

“Here?” he murmurs against my throat.

“Right fucking here,” I whisper.

We don’t need a bed.

We need each other.

Right now.

His cock pushes into me with a thrust that makes me gasp. He bites my shoulder to muffle a groan as I wrap my legs around him. His hand covers my mouth as I cry out, as he starts to ride me, hard, fast, and pushing us over the edge where, for a few blissful moments, our bodies feel like they explode as we orgasm, hit with wave after wave of sensation.

Until we’re both spent, panting, and a little more pain drains from me. Here, with him, everything still makes sense. He’s the one part of my life I know wasn’t orchestrated by my parents—this is mine, my new foundation.

Oleksi stays on top of me, forehead pressed to mine.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

My heart nearly bursts through my chest, and my breath catches in my throat. I feel tears start to burn my eyes, and I kiss him with such force, pouring everything I’m feeling into it. When we draw apart, my eyes meet his. “I love you, too.”

“That’s good.” He smiles, slowly pulling out of me. “Because I don’t ever plan to let you out of my life.”

“Good.” I smile, sitting up, straightening my clothes. “But I’m not going anywhere.” I put my hand on my stomach and smile. “Our baby needs his mother and father.”

Oleksis pulls his pants up and stands, looking down at me. “He?” He holds out his hand, and I put mine in it so he can help me up. “What makes you think it’s a boy?” He pulls some moss and twigs from my hair, helping me neaten it.

“Just a feeling.” I shrug and look at him. “If it is a boy...” I hold his eyes and swallow down the lump burning in my throat, but I’m unable to control the haze of tears that cloud my eyes. “I want to call him Leonid.”

I see his eyes widen, he pulls me to him and holds me. “I would’ve suggested the same name.”

“You know?” I look at him curiously.

He nods but doesn’t elaborate because Ivan calls us. Oleksi takes my hand and we go back to the group.

We hike for another two hours before I start seeing landmarks that feel familiar—old stone markers, the remains of a rusted fence, and then…

The gilded roofline of the Golden Palace catches the light between the trees.

My stomach flips. I remember the last time I was here with Oleksi’s cousin Radomir. We were looking for Radomir’s wife, my best friend, Liegh. I sigh in relief seeing the place. We’re close.

Oleksi moves beside me, slowing his pace. His voice is quiet, tentative.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it,” he begins. “And I’ve been trying to give you space. But I have a lot to tell you. A lot’s happened. A lot of truths?—”

I cut him off. “Are you about to tell me my parents were defectors and my mom used to work for the RMSAD?”

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