Page 44 of Embers of Fate
“Anya sends her regards,” Vlad murmurs, his voice low and reassuring, and I can’t help but smile at the mention of my sister-in-law. But even as I melt into his hug, savoring the warmth and solidity of his presence, I’m reminded once again of the special bond we share, the unbreakable tie that binds us together.
Vlad may not be my blood brother, but he’s every bit as much an Alexeev as Gavriil or I. Father took him in before I was born, a lost and lonely wolf pup in need of a pack, and he’s been a constant presence in my life ever since, a steady rock in the midst of the chaos and turmoil that seems to follow our family wherever we go.
“Gods, I’ve missed you...” I mumble, my voice muffled against his chest as tears prickle at the corners of my eyes. It’s a simple statement, but it carries the weight of all the things I can’t say, all the emotions I’ve been bottling up inside for far too long.
I know Gavriil has always feared that I loved Vlad more. But the truth is, they both hold equal pieces of my heart. Gavriil is my blood, my flesh and bone, the brother I was born to. But Vlad... Vlad is my chosen family, the brother I claimed for myself, and that bond is just as strong, just as unshakable.
As we slowly part, concern flickers in Vlad’s expression, his brow furrowing as he takes in the shadows under my eyes, the tight set of my jaw. “Hey...” he purrs, his voice soft and coaxing. “Is everything alright?”
I want to say no. I want to tell him everything, to pour out all the fears and frustrations that have been eating away at me for months now. I want to tell him that our household has become a living hell ever since we left our home in Saint Petersburg, that Gavriil’s heart has turned to stone in the wake of Luciana’s death, that I feel like I’m suffocating under the weight of his grief and rage.
But I can’t. I can’t bring myself to burden Vlad with the truth, to shatter the fragile peace of this moment with the harsh realities of my life. So instead, I force a smile onto my face, pushing down the lump in my throat as I pull back to look up at him, my eyes wide with feigned surprise and delight.
“I didn’t expect you would come!” I exclaim, the words tumbling out of my mouth in a rush, a desperate attempt to change the subject, to steer the conversation away from the dangerous waters of my own emotions.
Vlad smirks, his silvery eyes twinkling with mischief. “Me neither,” he admits, his tone conspiratorial. “The woman practically put me on the plane... D’you think she might have beenthatdesperate for some breathing space?”
I can’t help but chuckle at that, knowing all too well how overprotective Vlad can be when it comes to his family. “Well, youcanbea tad overbearing at times...” I tease, but quickly pivot the conversation before I can get myself into trouble. “And my niece? How’s the little darling?”
Vlad’s face lights up at the mention of his daughter, pride and love radiating from every pore. “She keeps growing!” he gushes, his voice filled with delighted amazement. “My sweet Katya has already spoken her first word—papa. She won’t say mama yet, and it’s been driving Anya mad!”
He laughs, a low, rumbling sound that warms me from the inside out, as he pulls out his cellphone. Instantly, a video appears on the screen, featuring my beautiful baby niece. She’s a porcelain doll come to life, with light brown hair and rosy, flushing cheeks. My heart swells with love and longing as I watch her giggle and coo, her tiny hands reaching out towards the camera.
But Vlad tucks the phone away after a moment, his expression shifting to one of wonder as he takes in our surroundings. “Oh, but enough about me...” he says, his eyes sweeping over the glittering lights and elegant decor of the Deveraux’s lawn. “Look at where we’re standing. Can you believe it?”
I step back, putting a little distance between us, just enough to meet his stormy gaze. Vlad keeps his arm around my shoulders, a comforting weight that grounds me in the moment. “You seem more than happy about it,” I note, a subtle frown creasing my brow.
“I am,” Vlad confirms, his voice brimming with satisfaction as he surveys the luminous expanse before us. “This is a great night for our clan—Father would be so proud. Gavriil asked for Cassie’s hand in marriage. He’s branding her as we speak.”
He glances at me sidelong, a hint of mischief curling the corner of his lips, and I feel a flicker of unease in my gut. Something about his words, his tone, doesn’t sit right with me.
“Oh?” I murmur, my frown deepening. “Really?”
Vlad leans closer, concern etching itself into the lines of his face. “Does the news displease you, Sam?” he asks, his voice gentle but probing. “Are you not happy for Gavriil?”
I hesitate, the sudden awareness of the game we play in my family hitting me like a ton of bricks. Vlad may be my brother, my confidant, but in this moment, with the weight of politics and power plays hanging heavy in the air, I know I have to choose my words carefully.
“I mean... I am...” I manage, my tongue feeling thick and clumsy in my mouth. “If he loves her.”
But even as I say the words, I know they’re a lie. Gavriil doesn’t love Cassandra, could never love her the way he loved Luciana. His heart, his very soul, belongs to his true mate, now and forever.
Vlad sighs, a flicker of compassion glinting in his eyes. “Love isn’t everything, my sweet,” he murmurs, his tone gentle but firm.
I feel a surge of irritation at his words, a frustration that he could be so blind to the truth. “But itiseverything,” I insist, my voice rising with each word. “It is. Vlad, I’ve never seen Gavriil happier than when he was with Luciana.”
My brother starts, clearly taken aback by my vehemence. He holds up a cautious hand, his expression troubled. “Sam,” he whispers, his voice tinged with melancholy. “Luciana is dead.”
The words hit me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs. I know it’s the truth, know that Luciana is gone and never coming back. But the idea that Gavriil should justmove on... it feels wrong, like a betrayal of everything they shared.
“And just because she’s dead, is he supposed to give up on love?” I demand, my voice shaking with emotion. “No, Vlad. That is not right!”
Vlad’s eyes widen, worry creasing his brow. In a flash, he’s gripping my elbow, steering me away from the crowd, his movements urgent and purposeful. “Please,” he murmurs, his voice low and confidential. “Don’t mention any of this to Gavriil. It will only hurt him and spoil the evening.”
I open my mouth to argue, to make my grievances known, but before I can utter a word, a familiar figure catches my eye. Clarissa Draken, Nik’s sister, brushes past us, her presence sending a jolt of electricity through my veins.
If she’s here... could Nik be nearby?
My heart leaps into my throat, pounding out a frantic rhythm as my eyes scan the crowd, desperate for any sign of him. I follow Clarissa’s movements, tracking her until she disappears into a group of witches, but there’s no trace of Nik among them.
