Page 188 of Blood & Snow

Four days have passed since she vanished from this building, four days Irina spent believing her ultimatum drove Nadya away for good.

The guilt radiating from her is palpable, her fingers cold despite the heated hallway.

"She probably thinks I abandoned them," Nadya whispers, her voice breaking.

"She threatened to take the children and I just disappeared."

I squeeze her hand, feeling the terror beneath her words.

Makeup covers the bruises on her face—expensive cosmetics I purchased this morning to hide the evidence of Sokolov's abuse.

Foundation and concealer transform her battered features back into the woman her family remembers, erasing her days of captivity from eyesight.

"We tell them the truth," I say, "or a version they can accept."

Before she can respond, the door flies open.

Irina stands in the threshold with an expression of relief and fury anddesperate love.

Tears stream down her cheeks as she pulls Nadya into an embrace so fierce it forces me to release my grip.

"You're alive," Irina sobs against her sister's shoulder.

"You're alive and you're here."

"I'm so sorry," Nadya gasps, returning the embrace with equal intensity.

"I'm so sorry, I should have called?—"

"I thought you left because of what I said. I thought I drove you away and you weren't coming back."

The children appear behind their mother, Anya's face streaked with tears while Mikhail tries to maintain composure that crumbles the moment he sees his aunt.

They pile into the embrace, four people clinging together in the doorway while I stand back and observe the family I've nearly destroyed through my world's violence.

Eventually, Irina pulls back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Her gaze lands on me, assessing and suspicious despite the relief of Nadya's return, while Nadya crouches to hug her niece and nephew.

When her gaze meets mine, I see skepticism and fear there.

"Who are you?" she asks, hugging her arms over her belly while Nadya stands and straightens her coat.

"Xander Morin," I say, extending my hand.

"I'm the reason Nadya disappeared."

The temperature in the hallway drops ten degrees.

Irina's expression shifts from relief to protective fury, her body positioning itself between me and her sister.

"You need to explain that statement," she snips, and I feel so much satisfaction in the fact that she's so protective over her sister.

"May we come inside?" I ask.

"This conversation deserves privacy."

She hesitates, glancing at Nadya, then steps aside to allow us entry.