Page 14 of BRATVA'S Avenging Bride
"You're resourceful. I'm sure you'd find something."
This time, she does smile. Small. Dangerous. Gone too quickly.
“I’ve asked my doctor to come round later, check you over.” I plate the eggs and set them in front of her. Toast. Butter. Nothing fancy, but it's real food and she needs it.
She stares at the plate like it might attack her.
"It's not poisoned," I say.
"How do I know that?"
"Because if I wanted you dead,zhar-ptitsa, you'd be dead." I take a bite of my own eggs. "See? Still breathing."
She picks up her fork. Takes a small bite. Then another. Then she's eating like she hasn't had real food in days. She probably hasn't. “Why is your doctor coming? I didn’t get hurt in the fire.”
“You have old wounds; he will make sure you’re healing properly and have any antibiotics you might need.”
Her eyes narrow, but I see the moment realization hits in the way she drops her eyes to her plate.
I watch her and feel something dangerous settle in my chest. Possessiveness. Protectiveness. The urge to hunt down every person who ever made her feel this shame.
“Stop,” I say with a finality that makes her jump a little.
"What?" she asks around a mouthful of toast.
"Feeling this way. You don’t own what they did to you; you own every minute after."
Her eyes blink up to mine. She doesn’t say anything, instead taking another tiny bite of her toast.
"Why are you staring?" she asks, twisting in her seat.
"You're beautiful."
She freezes. Fork halfway to her mouth. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't lie to me. Don't treat me like I'm stupid. I know what I look like. I know what I am."
I set down my coffee. Lean against the counter. "What are you, Katherine?"
"Damaged. Used up. A murderer with still-fresh bruises and trust issues."
"Wrong." I step closer. She doesn't move. "You're a survivor with fire in her veins and enough courage to burn down the world if it hurts someone you love. You're sharp and smart and so fucking strong it makes my teeth ache."
Her breath catches.
"You think I want you because you're broken?" I continue. "I want you because you refused to stay that way. Because you looked at your cage and decided to destroy it. Because when I gave you an out last night, you took my knife instead of my hand."
"That's insane."
"Probably." I smile. "But I've never been accused of sanity."
She stares at me. Really looks at me. Like she's trying to find the lie, the angle, the trap.
She won't find one.
"Why me?" she asks finally. "You could have anyone."
