jaw and soft mouth, leaving the rest of his face cloaked.
“Niko, do I smell tea?” Yasir jogged down the stairs.
Niko thrust out a hand, freezing him on the bottom step.
Vasili’s lips ticked. “How domestic.”
Yasir’s hands dropped to his sides, his fingers rippling, binding.
Niko opened his mouth to warn Yasir against trying to use the dark against Vasili, when Vasili said, “Continue along that route, Yasir, and I’ll rip your soul from your body before you draw your next breath.”
Yasir gasped. His hands shot to his neck and his eyes blew wide. He staggered backward and fell against the stairs, gasping for air.
“Vasili!” Niko took a step forward, and the prince’s head jerked, readying to fight. “Stop.”
Vasili pushed his hood back. No eye-patch, not this time. Niko only knew he was furious because he’d seen that carefully measured expression of indifference too many times before. His eye sparkled blue, the pupil blown wide but not with the dark. He was still in control.
“Do you care for Yasir, Nikolas?”
Yasir gasped and gagged and clawed at his neck, boots scraping the floorboards.
“You know I do. So do you. Let him go, Vasili.”
Vasili flung a gesture toward Yasir, freeing whatever hold he had on him. Yasir gulped air and coughed it back up again. He wretched and heaved and stared at Vasili as if only now realizing who and what the man was truly capable of.
The beast was silent now too, sent back into the shadows until needed.
Vasili took his time admiring the room as he approached the single table. He rubbed absently at his wrist. Did he remember meeting Niko here and how Niko had broken his wrist the first time? Probably. It wasn’t a meeting likely to be forgotten.
“Yasir, leave,” Vasili ordered, his tone typical of a royal. Gods, it was like Seran hadn’t happened, like the cabin was a dream, like Vasili was about to order they both be whipped as though he had every right to control them.
“No.” Niko approached the table too, his hot drink still cradled in his hand. “You made him a part of this. He stays. And you don’t fucking dismiss him like he’s your property.” He set the cup on the table instead of giving in to the urge to launch it at Vasili. “It didn’t take you long to become a Caville again. How did you find me?”
Vasili lifted his chin. “Your cottage is gone. Where else would you be? And my aunt isn’t as subtle as she believes.” His fingertips skimmed the tabletop and came away rubbing salt between his finger and thumb. He glanced at the floor, seeing it there too, and knew they’d been experimenting.
He was different. His clothes weren’t as perfect as they’d always been, and his shorter hair still hung wild and free about his face. The more Niko saw of him inside the cloak, the more it seemed as though Vasili was unraveling at the seams. The dilated pupil suggested spice, a dangerous but familiar crutch and a sign he was barely holding himself together.
A pang of regret and fear tried to muddy Niko’s anger. Fear that he was losing him to the palace all over again.
“Everywhere I look, I see enemies.” Vasili settled his gaze pointedly on Niko.
Niko carefully straightened. “I’m not your enemy.”
“Your actions speak differently.”
“My actions?” Niko echoed incredulously. “My fucking actions?! You gave me up to your sick fuck of a brother. You—” Niko swallowed the rest and unclenched his fists. If this devolved into rage, nobody would win. Vasili was obviously here for a reason, and it wasn’t to hurt them, despite his behavior. “What do you want?”
“You.” He flicked a wrist. “Obviously.”
Yasir approached from Niko’s left, rare anger simmering off of him. He had his own strengths, and he would stand for what he believed in. Niko was sure of that. And right now, he stood on the same side as Niko.
“You will return with me to the palace,” Vasili ordered.
The idea was so ludicrous that Niko couldn’t stop his laugh from bursting free. “You’ll have to get your guards and shackle me because there isn’t a fucking chance I’ll ever go back there willingly.”
“For fuck’s sake, Nikolas,” Vasili hissed, finally revealing his frustration on his face, like the man in the cabin who’d wished for simpler things, “your stubborn selfishness will sink us all. Elves are a week away. I need Amir’s forces, and if you do not return, he’ll turn those forces on me, leaving Loreen vulnerable to attack. Seran