Midnight Oath (Tasarov Bratva 1)

The young, dark-haired maid nods at him, her wide eyes going a little moony under Adrik’s full attention.

I can relate.

But when he turns his eyes to me, they’re cold. Flat. And his voice that was sparkling with a wry warmth just two seconds ago is now pure ice.

“Come with me.”

It isn’t a question.

I kiss the top of Isabel’s head and follow Adrik into the hallway.

The moment we’re alone, I hurry to catch up so I’m walking next to him instead of trailing along behind like a kicked puppy. “What happened after I left?”

“You don’t already know?” he asks. He doesn’t bother slowing down.

“No. Why would I know? Was Stefan supposed to tell me?”

He pulls ahead of me and whisks into the dining room. I keep pace with him, breathing heavily. His legs are so long that each of his strides are like two of mine. I’m practically sprinting just to keep up.

I turn into the dining room—and he’s gone. The room is empty.

“Adr—”

WHAM. The door slams shut.

I whirl around in place to see Adrik standing in front of it, blocking the exit with his body. His eyes are narrowed to slits. Only the tiniest hint of gray visible. Like the edge of a knife.

“Are you aware Malcolm Waters is working with the Volandri mafia?” he asks.

“With the Vol—the mafia? Like, the real mafia?”

“Yes, the real mafia,” he hisses so condescendingly that it takes my breath away.

I shake my head. “I had no idea.”

“You’re either a great actress or the most naive woman I’ve ever met. I still can’t decide which.”

“Hey, asshole! Just because I don’t spend my time keeping up to date with the… the criminal underworld doesn’t mean I’m clueless.” I glare at him and then make to leave in a huff. “I didn’t come here to be insulted, so if you’ll excuse me—”

Adrik grabs my arms and shoves me back into the dining room. It’s not gentle in the least. “You really are clueless if you think I’m going to let you prance out of here.”

“Let me?” I snort. “I need your permission to walk down the damn hallway?”

He lunges forward like a viper. I recoil deeper into the room and curl away from him, but there’s no escape. He’s everywhere, sucking up every drop of air, blotting out every piece of light.

“You need my permission to fucking breathe, Emery. And you’re going to stand here and answer my questions as long as I have questions to ask. Do you understand that much?”

Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot, I almost say. But I bite down the bratty retort that’s sitting on the end of my tongue. It won’t help me right now. Not when he’s this furious.

“What do you want to know?” I whisper instead.

“I want to know what you know about Malcolm Waters,” he says. “Everything you’ve ever known. Are you still in contact with him?”

“Are you serious?”

“Answer the goddamn question, Emery.”

His face is red, his teeth bared in a snarl. This morning’s sweetness is a hazy memory. A gauzy dream I can barely remember.

Walking across the parking lot arm in arm? The playful banter? That can’t have been real. There’s no way this is the same man.

“Of course I’m not in contact with him,” I snap. “I don’t make it a habit to keep in contact with people who sexually assault me.”

“You were engaged to the mudak.”

“He was a slime ball, but the night you… well, the night you showed up was the first time he’d ever laid hands on me like that. It was the first time I’d ever been truly scared of him.”

I almost said that Adrik saved me from Malcolm. At the time, that’s what it felt like.

But now? Not so much.

Adrik is not the knight in shining armor I thought he was, and this is not a fairytale. There’s nothing so clear-cut as heroes and villains.

In this story, I’ll have to save myself.

“Convenient that he picked the night we met to come for you. Highly convenient.”

“It wasn’t convenient! It happened because of you,” I snap. “Malcolm was jealous that the two of us left the party together.”

“After you asked to speak to me alone,” Adrik points out.

“After you came over and pretended you knew who I was to get me away from Malcolm,” I fire back. “Adrik, what is this about?”

We’re staring at each other now, both fiery and stubborn. Backing down would be the smart thing to do—I’m outmatched, overwhelmed, in way over my head.

But fuck that. Mostly because, fuck him.

“It’s about the fact that everything has happened far too neatly,” he snarls. “You may be clueless, but I’m not. That’s not a coincidence.”

“No, you aren’t naive. But you are a stubborn, untrusting asshole.”

I shove against his chest to try and give myself some space, some room to breathe.

But Adrik grabs my hand and yanks me against him.

“Let go of me!” I cry out—even as I fight the urge to press further into his warmth. To draw against his toned body and drag my fingers down his abs.

For just a second, I want to remember what we had this morning.

But any mirage of tenderness is gone in the blink of an eye. Adrik palms my throat and marches me backwards until my thighs hit the dining room table and there’s nowhere else to go.

“How long have you been working with the Volandris?” he breathes in my face.

“This is ridiculous. Get the hell off of me!”

“Were you tasked with infiltrating my house? Did you set this up so I would save you?”

“You didn’t save me from a goddamn thing,” I spit back. “You’re the one I need saving from.”

“That may be true, kiska. But there isn’t a man on earth who can take you from me.”

Adrik slides his hand from my throat to cup my jaw. There it is again, that flash of sweetness, like a faint hint of sugar mixed in with the poison. “You can’t lie to me, Emery.”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips. Despite everything—despite all of this, all his monstrosity—I want to lean forward and steal a taste.

That desire scares me more than his hand on my jaw.

“I’m not lying.”

He leans in closer, and closer, and closer, until I can feel his breath on my skin. Until my senses are filled with him. Sight, scent, sensation—it’s all Adrik Tasarov.

“Come on, princess. Don’t be shy.”

“Don’t call me that,” I grit out.

“But it’s what you are,” he croons. “A spoiled little princess addicted to the taste of the silver spoon. But my question is: if you’re a princess… who is your king?”

“Are you going to keep talking in riddles or can I go?” I demand.