CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 11
ALEXEI VOLKOV

There will never be a time I am not guilty of her murder or pained by the fact that I lost her. And I'd be a liar if I didn't at least admit that even now, after this revolutionary, earth–shattering sex, there's a huge piece of me that is a big asshole for having sex with a shifter when Natalia Morozova's type are the people who killed Alina Petrovna.

But Natalia Morozova isn't that type—I can tell.

And the idea of losing another woman I care about—I can't. I rise and I take her, pulling her to me. "If you don't tell me, Natalia, I'll still find you."

She regards me for a moment before she nods. "I'll tell you."

"Then let's go celebrate like there's no tomorrow."

"We already fucked like there's not," she tells me, and the curse word that tumbles from her mouth makes me grin.

"Dirty."

"What can I say, I had a huge awakening tonight."

I reach out and sweep my thumb over the curve of her cheek as she leans into my touch. When I save her, I'll need to be truthful. About it all. I know better than to believe I can lie to the person I'm trying to make a life with.

But for now, it's sweet to be able to pretend there is nothing between us. To pretend I didn't come here seeking information about who orchestrated an attack on my best friend and the woman I loved two years ago.

Here, in the quiet of the ship's Obsidian Chamber, concealed behind the enchantment of this ball, I'm merely Alexei Volkov. And she's merely Natalia Morozova.

And we're not enemies but lovers who dreamed the night in each other's arms. I was broken when I set foot on this ship. Haunted by my demons and driven by a hesitant future.

Despite being far from being rid of both, Natalia Morozova changed me. She took away my shackles—and I don't even think that she knows it.

"I'm glad that I met you, Natalia."

When she smiles at me like she's doing right now, I smile back at her without being able to control it. She may be enveloped in her own world, but she's a fucking ray of sunshine in mine.

"I'm glad I met you too."

NATALIA MOROZOVA

One hour, forty-six minutes.

That's how much time I have left with Alexei Volkov. Not that I doubt he'll come for me, but I don't believe he'll be able to find me. At least, I pray not.

Whatever kind of hunter he is, Viktor Dragunov's pack will consume him, and I wouldn't be able to live with that. Not after all we've been through. So instead of panicking about the decreasing time limit, I focus on the beautiful ship we're sailing in.

My hands lock with his, we step out onto the Siren's Deck and are greeted by the same thick, damp air that we stepped out into from the balcony when we took our earlier trip to the Shadow Lift. Only this time it feels thicker, or perhaps that's my heart.

I've never been anything but a hopeless romantic. What can I say? I grew up reading the best romance novels out there. Insta-love is my bread and butter, but I can never say that I ever believed in it. The concept was just something that I enjoyed.

But Alexei Volkov… I wouldn't call it love. It's too early for that—but there's this thing about him, something deep and old inside me urging me toward him, telling me he was made for me and I for him.

Could I have mated with a hunter?

He gazes down at me and smiles, and my heart almost stops. Shit. If I was afflicted with a life unworthy of love previously—now, it will hurt too. I understand with an assurance that won't leave me that I'll be spending my eternity with Viktor Dragunov longing for Alexei Volkov. Yet still, I wouldn't exchange a damned thing.

Dastardly Deeds plays a hypnotic tune, the purple neon band name emblazoned on the drums being battered by an impossibly good-looking redhead with a painted-on smile on his face as amber-coloured eyes survey the sea of faces.

The lead singer is a seductress, indicated by the shining aqua-coloured eyes and mint-blue locks. I glance over my shoulder at Alexei Volkov, who is surveying the entire spectacle before him with complete awe.

The top singer's nude dress features plentiful curves and is adorned with sparkles, so she resembles someone who just stepped out of the water from her last dip in the sea.

She stands between two guitarists, one with black hair and red eyes and another with brown, long hair and a full beard. I can tell beyond a shadow of doubt he is a shifter like myself—or a werewolf as some humans call us.

The team dances to the beat of the music, and I get that this noise is as different from what we heard in The Abyssal Floor below as can be. Whoever has done this—The Mistress of Shadows being her name—is as powerful beyond any comprehension.

My muscles are sore as Alexei Volkov and I walk towards the bar, the throbbing between my legs recalling the sensual moments we spent wrapped in each other's arms.

A dragon shifter blows a fire-breath as a warlock wearing a white T-shirt and tattered black jeans tosses a card into the flames. It catches for a moment before bursting into at least a dozen butterflies that rise up into the air above us. Cheers echo around us as the fireflies of fire float up into the air before popping out of sight, one by one. So much joy all around me, and I feel so goddamn alone.

Even if I refuse to think about them, every minute that ticked by brought me one step nearer to my return to my world. To Viktor Dragunov and the future that I would kill to alter.

"Hey there, pretty girl," a man with a thick Spanish accent leers over the bar. I glance up, my gaze resting on a man with dark, shoulder-length hair and a closely trimmed side. He shakily rattles a mixer as he regards us with knowing ice-blue eyes.

"Hol—hello," I respond, not even bothering to try to speak Spanish. Let's just say it's not my strength.

"English, then? English I can." He grins at me. "What can I get the two of you?"

"Whatever your signature is," Alexei Volkov says and squeezes his hand around mine, before stooping to press his lips into the curve of my ear. "We're still here, Natalia."

Snatching a quick peck on my cheek, he stands up straight. Am I actually showing my feelings on my sleeve, then?

"Are you two gentlemen having a good time tonight?" My attention is once again on the bartender as he sways his hips in rhythm as he shakes mixers in his shaker. 

"Yes, it's a night I won't forget, for sure."

"Si, Hunter. Let's hope this will be proof positive that we're not all bad." The bartender flashes a smile as he pours the pale-red liquid into two glasses. Then, in a flash of inspiration, he retrieves a bottle of orange juice and fills the glasses before pushing them our way.

Picking up my glass, I take a sip of the liquid, needing something to blunt the edge so I don't waste what's left of my night with Alexei Volkov trembling in terror of what's to come. 

"Damn, niña. That's some strong stuff," the bartender says respectfully. "You want another?"

"Yes, please."