Page 42 of Deadly Knight

Lev

Always. Good luck. I’ll continue pinging cell towers. Can I get a rough location to narrow down the country? You didn’t give me much to work with when you took off.

Me

Toronto.

Lev

Perfect. Thanks.

I slip the phone away, positioning myself against the wall of the abandoned building across the street from Katya, and settle in to wait until night falls on the off chance my father does have hired guns stalking her from the shadows.

Night falls,and Katya’s living room light switches off. It’s early for her to be heading to bed, but when my gaze slides to the smaller window to the left, no bedroom light flickers on. Minutes later, the building’s front door opens and Katya exits, dressed in leggings and an off-shoulder top, a purse hanging from her hand.

She walks down the street, head down, and I follow. It’s not unusual for her to go out in the evening to meet up with her coworker-slash-friend, Nora, but it’s not often they do either.

She walks quickly, with an urgency I’d find alarming if I wasn’t aware of her patterns. Katya speed-walking when it’s dark out is her norm. Hell, it’s progress considering she wouldn’t stay out past sundown for years.

She walks a few blocks until stopping outside a bar, one of those ones where shows and performances are often held. A crowd lingers, but no one pays her attention.

Impossible to not.

The sign on the building casts a fluorescent glow on her, making the natural brown of her hair a deeper shade. When a breeze blows, she wraps her arms around her sternum, and I long more than anything—even more than killing Papa—to wrap her in my arms. To dress her my hoodie and cloak her in my scent, a signal to any other man that she’s mine.

In another world, I would.

A few minutes later, Nora approaches. Long ago, when they got close, I ran all the necessary background checks to ensure there are no ghosts in her closet. Nothing dangerous that could potentially harm Katya. Nora and her family are as average as they come.

The two talk and are joined by another couple a few minutes later, and then almost immediately, another man. He positions himself beside Katya, angling her way when he murmurs to her, not paying the others attention.

Fuck no.

I shove off the wall as though intending to storm across the street and tear him away, even when the tiny voice in my head forces me to remain, denying every urge to keep her for myself.

Stay away.

I fuckingdespisethis part. The part where I’m torn between running away and snatching her, all to avoid witnessing her interact with other men. Men who smile at her like she’s the sun, bright and shiny for them.

She’s not the sun. She’s the goddamn moon. She’smylight in the darkness. The glow in the sky that illuminates a path within the night.

He’s looking at her like he’s allowed to. LikeI’mno longer allowed to. His eyes travel over the length of her and, fuck, I want to tear them out.

She’ll hate you. Don’t ruin any chance of her happiness.It’s the whisper in the back of my mind, the one always reminding me of my vows.

“Can you promise me one thing?”

“Anything.”

“Don’t look for me, Dimitri. Forget about me.”

Vows I broke as soon as I made them. Once she left Russia, I looked for her, found her, and followed her. At first, it was to ensure her family got settled, but in the weeks following, I keptflying back, continuously compelled to her like a mosquito is to light.

Her other request, to forget her, was also impossible. Never, not once, did I forget about her.

How can one forget the other half of their soul?

How does one survive, knowing they’re only half a person, that the other wants nothing to do with them?