Page 61 of Heritage of Fire

Nik tips his head down, watching as I entwine our fingers together. Cold and calloused, his thumb caresses my skin. He swipes gently back and forth, and we stay that way—him gazing down at our hands, and me searching his face.

There’s a mixture of dark desire and genuine pain in his eyes. Firmly, I tug at him, bringing his hand to my lips and pressing a kiss to each of his knuckles.

Touch me,I silently beg again.

It’s as if he heard me, because he releases my hand and grips the side of my face, fingers tangling in my hair. He stares at my lips. They part on a sharp breath, and a prickling sensation tingles through me.

I lean into the contact, savoring it. Attraction to Nik was instant when I first saw him at our wedding. I won’t deny it. But it’s his selflessness within the Bratva, and his attempts at making me comfortable in an uncomfortable situation, that make me want him?—

Nik’s face tightens and he steps away.

“Nyet.” His nostrils flare, hand twitching like he’s holding himself back. He groans. “Damn it, Luna.”

His expression turns stoic as he looms over me, and my heart pounds in confusion. I’m fairly certain my cheeks are on fire.

He bolts to the living room, leaving me utterly stunned. I wait for several minutes, thinking he might return, but he doesn’t. I step shakily out of bed and pad to the bathroom. By the time I come back out, he still hasn’t returned. And when I wake the next morning, he’s already gone.

Several days go by, and I barely see Nik. When our paths do cross, our interactions feel awkward and misplaced. I can’t look at him without my face bursting into flames. I’m embarrassed—whydid I reach for him? Nik tries to pretend it didn’t happen. He gives me winks, but his usual playful demeanor has been muted.

The funeral is today. I'm in the bathroom touching up my makeup when Nik knocks on the doorframe, home early from work. Our eyes meet in the mirror.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi …”

I add some lipstick as he steps up behind me, a black tie in his hands. The pain from the other night is no longer masked by alcohol and desire; it’s written all over his face, and my heart aches for him.

“Can I help you?” I ask, eyes going to his tie.

“Nah. Been doing it myself since I was a young boy.” He smiles a weak smile.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to.”

I hold his gaze, desperately trying to convey to him I’m here for him. Regardless of how we were brought together, wearetogether, and he doesn’t have to deal with any of this alone.

An undercurrent ofsomethingpasses between us. As if the tie is a metaphor for something more.

Relenting, he hands it to me. I push up onto my toes, wrapping the tie around his neck and bringing the two sides together in front. This close, his pine scent is much more potent. I inhale, subtly trying to breathe it in.

Air filters out through the vent in the ceiling, blowing small tendrils of hair in front of my face. Nik brushes them from my cheek, tucking them securely behind my ears.

My skin prickles, but I keep my gaze trained on the tie, pushing the knot to Nik’s neck then tugging his collar back into place.

“It’s been forever since I’ve done a tie. Surprised I still remember how.” I step back, allowing the space between us to resume.

“Your dad?”

“Yeah. I used to beg him to let me do his tie when I was little. He never deprived me.” I smile at the memory. Warm feelings about my father become few and far between these days.

Nik smiles, rubbing my shoulder. “Are you ready?”

Nik heads to the door, pausing to wait for me.

“Yeah. Let me grab my shoes.”

The ride is quiet. Nik drives us, and several cars of the warehouse men follow. The cemetery comes into view after half an hour, enclosed by elaborate patinated gates. A few trees are spread throughout, but mostly it’s a large hill of gravestones and monuments.

We park, and I watch others exit their cars to travel the meandering pathways and walkways that crisscross the grounds. Before I can open my door, it opens for me. Lev smiles down at me, and I offer him one in return. Ignoring his extended hand, I step out myself.

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