Page 31 of The Bone Doll
Slowly, she sat. “I thought I was never going to see you again.”
Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him tight. Sighing against her hair, he embraced her in return and let himself enjoy her touch for as long as she was willing to give it.
Chapter 21
What the Forest Wants
For a long time, Syra clung to Viktor and he to her. She didn’t know what to feel. She hated him for lying, for taking her away from her family, for putting her in danger like this. She loved him for caring for her on the road, for offering to lay his own life down for her, for offering pleading apologies to her unconscious form.
Finally, she eased her grip. “Viktor, I–”
“I’m sorry, Syra,” he said. “I’m sorry I lied. That I brought you all the way here. That I put you in danger.”
“I know,” she said, unsure if she could forgive him. “But I’m glad you came back.”
“I’m glad I did too.”
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. Her emotions tangled inside her. She wished she could be angry or relieved – not both and a hundred other emotions besides.
“The Bone Doll.” It sat beside them, glowing faintly as though in reminder. “A sky spirit is trapped in there.”
“I promised to free it,” Viktor said. “But I don’t know how.”
“I don’t either. But if I don’t free it, it’ll continue to curse whoever is nearby.” Gnawing her lip, she picked the figurine up and turned it over in her hands. “And maybe it’s right to do so. No one wants to be caged.”
“What will you do?”
“I will think about it,” she said, finally untangling from him. “There must be something my grandfather taught me. I just have to remember it.”
“Will you let me take you home?” Viktor was covered in leaves and small twigs, and Syra thought he was still handsome, though she did not quite trust him.
She nodded wordlessly and then, standing, offered him her hand.
He pressed her knuckles to his cheek, as though he knew that kissing them was too much right now. “First, if you’ll let me, I promised theleshythat I would become the Lord of Zoldrovya.”
She felt a sharp pang in her chest at the thought of Viktor becoming the lord, like his father. “Your father is a cruel man.”
“They’re all cruel,” he murmured, letting her hand drop.
“You are not,” she said. “Do not become like them.”
He gave a sad smile. “I won’t.”
They walked solemnly back to the manor, which was covered from base to apex in thick ivy. New saplings had sprouted at its foundation; in time, they would bring the house down on itself. When they reached the door, they had to cut down vines in order to open it. Syra’s pulse quickened. There would be no manor for Viktor to rule. Inside, theleshy’s fury grew more apparent. The vines had smashed in the windows and now climbed down the walls and across the floor. The manor had already been quiet, but now it was terrifyingly so. And dark.
They found Igor Sviatopolkovich in his study, his face a red and mottled mess.
“What have you done?” the lord bellowed, coming around the desk like an orca hunting seal. “You fucking idiot! I told you to control it, not–”
Syra drew her knife, but Viktor caught his father’s wrist before the man could land a blow. “Theleshyis the lord of the golden wood,” Viktor said. “And it doesn’t want you here.”
“What do I fucking–?” Igor pulled back, but Viktor held on. “Let go,moy mudak, or I’ll break your legs again.”
Her lips curled in disgust.Again?She pressed her blade against Igor Sviatopolkovich’s ribs. “Listen to your son.”
“Tell your bitch not to bite,” snarled the lord.
“Don’t talk about her like that.” Viktor shoved his father back, sending the man into the desk. “I was saying, theleshydoesn’t want you here. If you don’t want to be strung up on one of its vines, I suggest you leave.”
