Page 49 of Her Darkest Possession

I continue, "And for listening without judging me. For holding me while I cried over something that happened before we met." I reach up to trace the line of his jaw. "For being the man I needed."

The last words seem to break something loose in Anatoly. His mouth comes down on mine, tentative at first, like he's asking permission. When I press closer, rising on my toes to deepen the kiss, he responds with a growing hunger that makes my knees go weak.

His hands frame my face as he kisses me like he's trying to memorize the taste of my lips, and the feel of my skin under his palms.

His mouth moves against mine with a tenderness that makes my heart ache, like he's worshipping something sacred. I can taste the promise in his kiss, the vow that he'll never let anyone hurt me.

The kiss deepens, into something hungry and desperate.

His hands slide into my hair, holding me to him like he's afraid I might disappear, and I press closer to feel his solid warmth against me.

When we finally break apart, both breathing hard, the ash from Ryan's letter has blown away, leaving behind nothing but the ever-growing certainty that I truly am Anatoly's wife.

14

ANATOLY

I holdIndigo against my chest, her blue hair tickling my skin as our breathing finally returns to normal. She fits in my arms like she was made to be there. Outside, the moon casts silver light through the windows, painting shadows across the rumpled sheets.

"I still can't believe it," she whispers, tracing patterns on my chest. "That we're going to have a baby together."

Her voice holds a wonder that leaves my chest tightening when I hear it. I press my lips to her forehead and take in a deep breath until the scent of her hair is buried so deep in my lungs that I'll never get it out.

"That we're going to be parents," she continues, raising herself up on one elbow to look at me. Her eyes shine in the darkness. "Actual parents."

The excitement in her voice is unmistakable. It wraps around me, making it impossible not to smile back at her. I reach and rest my hand on her still flat stomach. Our child is growing there—something we created together.

"Are you happy about it?" she asks softly.

"Yes," I answer honestly, surprising myself with how true it is. "More than I thought possible."

The idea of fatherhood is... surreal. I never imagined myself here. My own father was a cautionary tale, not a model to follow. Stepan Baryshev was cruel, calculating, unfaithful—everything I swore I wouldn't become.

"You're thinking too hard," Indigo says, touching my furrowed brow.

"Just thinking about my father," I admit. "Not exactly the blueprint for good parenting."

She shifts closer, pressing her lips against my jaw. "You're not him, Anatoly."

"I know that, but?—"

"You'll be a good father," she interrupts, with such conviction it steals my breath. "I've seen how you protect what's yours. How you take care of people. That's what matters."

Her faith in me is staggering. I pull her closer, burying my face in her hair so she won't see how deeply her words affect me.

"Our baby is lucky to have you," she murmurs against my skin.

I trace my thumb across Indigo's bare shoulder, watching her breathe softly beside me. The question has been circling my mind since we heard that tiny heartbeat in the doctor's office.

"Do you want a boy or a girl?" I ask, my voice low in the darkness.

She doesn't answer right away. Instead, her brow furrows slightly, lips pursing as she considers the question carefully. I love watching her think—the way her eyes go distant, focusing on something only she can see. My britvochka, always cutting straight to the heart of things.

Finally, she sighs. "I'm not sure. There's complications either way."

I wait for her to continue, giving her the space to form her thoughts.

"A boy would have a better chance of protecting himself in this world," she says slowly. "But he'd be born into this life where men are just... disposable. Where their lives are discarded so easily." Her fingers brush against my chest, tracing old scars. "But a girl..." She trails off.