Fragile Longing

“Say it.”

“Yes.” I didn’t even recognize my voice.

He turned me around, so I had to support myself against the tree. The bark of the fir was dry and rough against my palms as I braced myself against the tree trunk. I stared at it, breathing shakily, tears stinging my eyes. He pulled down the zipper at the back of my leather pants and shoved them down. My panties followed. The cold hit my skin and I shivered. “I like your ass,” he rasped. He pushed my legs further apart with his foot and squeezed my ass cheek once.

I couldn’t connect these actions with the Danilo I desired and loved.

It would hurt. He’d tear me apart. I knew the stories of other girls, and they hadn’t been taken like this. I could stop this before real damage was done. I should have stopped it to save my honor. But I did not.

Maybe this was the true solution.

I waited silently, brokenly, hoping that this would finally set me free, free from crushing on a man who’d never wanted me. A man who spent every night chasing women who looked like my sister. A man who had never seen my worth.

I was crying, hot tears dripping from my eyes, scorching my cold cheeks under my mask, but I didn’t make a sound. I didn’t want him to stop. I needed him to continue and set me free. And then I felt him against me, his grip painful on my waist. I stared at the bark, listening to his harsh breathing. The cold seeped into my body, but I didn’t mind.

“I’m going to fuck you hard,” he growled.

No, he was going to kill me slowly, splinter me into millions of pieces of despair and hurt.

His grip tightened and he pushed forward, then jerked to a stop as my body refused to let him in. Stars blazed before my eyes as a sharp pain cut through me. I choked, bit down on the inside of my cheek. Hard, harder, tasting blood as it swirled on my tongue. I was cut in half with a sharp blade, torn apart by burning tongs. I was pain and humiliation and a crushed stupid heart.

“What the fuck?” Danilo snarled. I let out a small sob, then bit down hard on my lower lip to shut up. He tensed. My fingers shook against the rough tree trunk, its ridges scratching my palm, my eyes fixed on my engagement ring. I hadn’t taken it off. It mocked me with its shining beauty, with everything it should stand for and didn’t. A beautiful sign of love and devotion. The diamond flickered in the lantern light. So very beautiful. So meaningless.

Danilo froze and let out a sharp breath. His fingers moved to mine, touching the ring. His ring. His touch was suddenly feather-soft, as if the anger had slid right out of him. He exhaled with a shudder. “Sofia?” he rasped, voice shaking.

Sofia. For a moment I wasn’t sure if I was still her—if I even still knew who she was.

I couldn’t say anything, couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe. I’d stopped living, merely existed now. I was gone, gone, gone.

His palm stroked over my hip, so very gently, and he pulled out slowly. I whimpered, arched. The sound surprised me. I was numb. Numb and burning up with pain. Physically and deep in my chest.

Danilo tensed. “Oh God,” he breathed. Something trickled out of me.

He turned me around, lifted my mask, but his fingers hovered against my temples so softly. Tears blurred my vision as he appeared before me, tall and dark, his sharp features lacking the previous brutality, the aggression gone from his face.

“Sofia.” It was half plea, half groan. I didn’t understand. His thumbs smoothed away my tears, gliding so softly over my cheeks that I cried harder. I wanted to stop but couldn’t.

“I–I . . .” My words were like shrapnel in my throat. “I think I’m bleeding.”

“Fuck,” he breathed. Anguish. Was it his? Or mine?

Clothes rustled and a belt clinked. He bent and carefully pulled up my panties and pants, edging them over my hips. I didn’t move, only stared at him. He didn’t bother closing the zipper of my pants. I didn’t care.

He wrapped an arm around me and lifted me. His heartbeat raced against my temple as I leaned against his chest. He didn’t say anything as he carried me through the woods. He stayed away from the lit pathways, choosing the dark. It felt good to be cloaked in nothingness.

Eventually, the lodge appeared like a beacon of light, and with it the sound of music, laughter, and conversation. “Bury your face against my chest in case we run across someone,” he said gently, and I did, breathing in his familiar perfume, something crisp and woodsy. He walked to the back entrance, and then we were heading upstairs. The music and the voices started to dim.