Page 51 of The Darkness is Calling

“Yar, I don’t have time for riddles,” our youngest hisses, this time without a trace of humor.

“Artem, has something happened between you two since you’ve been sleeping together?”

“Oooooo,” the youngest breathes through pursed lips, realizing who this is about, then ends with an amused grimace. “Artem? Have you been a bad boy?”

“I’m always a bad boy. But not in this case.” I reply calmly, my gaze fixed on Yar.

“For how long?” comes his key question.

“As long as necessary.”

“And if you don’t?”

“War!” Sasha cuts in enthusiastically, and our older brother immediately strikes him with a harsh look.

“Going to war with all of England is not a good idea,” he tells him, though I know his words are aimed at me too. “And don’t think you would have any place back home either, because Bratva would deny us immediately and hunt us everywhere if they found out this bastard touched the princess they themselves promised to another man.”

“I still don’t see the problem,” Sasha’s tine is flat, looking at me like a confused child. “As long as I get to kill someone, I’m in. Let there be war!”

Yar sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers, visibly exasperated.

“What is your plan?”

This time I know he is speaking to me, and I let both of them wait a few moments before answering.

Meanwhile, I move slowly toward the desk and pick up a knife I recently received as a gift.

I turn it between my fingers, then look toward my older brother. “My plan is to sleep well tonight.”

“Artem, talk to us,” he asks, forcing his tone to remain calm. “We don’t want you to lose control and face consequences we can’t repair.”

The knife blade is so sharp that the simple pressure of my thumb against its edge opens a cut along the length of my skin. The wound is not deep, but it is large enough for blood to begin gathering.

And the sensation is divine.

To know I have complete control over pain I do not even feel. Control over everything that belongs to me. Because that is what my life is built around: control, and the power to resist the monsters that are always fighting me.

But not right now.

“She silences the noise in my head,” I answer quietly, watching the blood begin to collect in the superficial cut. “I told you yesterday.”

“And today I am much more worried than yesterday, because I see how you are changing from one day to the next.”

I can tell this discussion will not lead anywhere good, so I prefer to end it before absurd scenarios start spilling from their mouths.

“As I’ve already said, this whole thing is a test for me. But it doesn’t help if you go for my throat every day.”

“Artem, to manage those dangerous urges, you first need to be honest with yourself,” he tells me, coming closer with that same worry on his face. “Step by step. Accept what you feel.”

“There’s nothing wrong with liking her,” Sasha adds, without irony. “I like her too. She’s beautiful, charismatic, elegant, and actually funny. Not to mention that song she keeps repeating twice as often as the others. Is stuck in my head. You know it?”

Of course I know it, but there is no point admitting them that, just as our older brother refrains from answering too.

“But along with accepting the idea that you are attracted to her,” Yar continues, “you need to understand that you are not allowed to get close to her. You need to leave her alone and not touch her. Don’t forget, this wedding must happen.”

“Because Father said so.” My tone is sharp, making Yar tense.

“Because it has to,” he says firmly. “She loves that man. You know her story. She left Moscow to get out of this world, and now she has the chance at a normal life with a man who can offer her everything. What could you offer her? A few nights of sex. Then after you got bored of being with the same woman, you would disappear for days while she stayed locked inside the house from morning until night because it would be too dangerous for her to go outside. Everyone would hunt her, just as they would hunt us.”