Page 139 of Legacy
She pauses. “And if he can’t… if you have an out… you should take it.”
I hesitate. “Did you have an out?”
Vasilisa goes still. For a second, something flickers in her expression, something that aches.
Her gaze lowers, then lifts again, clear as ever.
“No,” she says. “But I never really wanted one. Not from him.”
She moves to adjust her bracelet, delicate silver, just like everything about her—then just slightly beneath, I notice it.
A bruise.
My eyes trail her body.
Matter fact there’s multiple bruises.
On her shoulders, arms, neck.
All faint, but as the strobe lights pass by her I can see them clearly.
“What happened to your shoulder?”
Vasilisa blinks like she doesn’t understand, then follows my gaze.
“Oh!” she laughs. Like a soft gasp wrapped in glitter. “It’s nothing. I just—” She cuts herself off, cheeks blooming pink.
Nowthat’s interesting.
My brows lift, slow. “Just what?”
She leans in, voice hushed like we’re sharing state secrets.
“It’s a… um… sex injury.”
I nearly choke on my Manhattan.
She winces, embarrassed. “Sorry! Was that too much?”
“No,” I say too fast. Then again, slower, amused. “No. Just didn’t expect that to come out of your mouth.”
She laughs, like full-body, head-back giggles. It’s annoyingly charming.
“It’s not the first.. I know I’m covered in them,” she says, biting her lip like it’s some cute confession. “I tried to cover them up but Scythe’s… intense.”
“Scythe?”
She giggles, a blush painting her cheeks. “Its a long story”
I want to, but I don’t push.
“So they’re all hickeys?” I ask with a chuckle.
“Some are… and some are bites.”
I blink. My brain stutters.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” I ask before I can stop myself, voice sharper than I intend.
