Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Alexei.
He is wearing a pair of black pants and nothing else. And for the first time, I see his extensive tattoos. Some intricate, some simple. There are a mixture of black and other colors climbing up his back, chest, and biceps. There is an urge inside of me to study them. To explore him. Like a puzzle, I want to decipher each and every one of his mysteries.
I want to know the feeling of his body beneath my hands. The chest and back that are broad and strong and glistening with sweat. It is an urge I have not had since Dmitri. This kind of want is unfamiliar. This kind of want is dangerous to me and alluring in the worst kind of way.
He doesn’t seem to hear me, even when I step inside and the mat creaks beneath my foot. It is only a moment later that his gaze catches mine in the mirror. He freezes, and then slowly turns toward me.
“Talia?”
There is concern in his voice. He wants to know what I’m doing in here. I wish I had an answer.
“I’m sick of fish,” I tell him.
“Is good for brain chemistry,” he replies.
I tilt my head to the side and examine him. “Is that the polite way of telling me that I’m crazy?”
A ghost of a smile appears on his lips, and he shrugs. “Maybe a little bit.”
I smile too. And it scares the ever living shit out of both of us. My hair falls in a cascade around my face when I tilt it down and tap my toes against the mat.
“Don’t hide from me,” Alexei says.
And when I look up, he is in front of me. His fingers find my chin, and he pushes my hair away from my face.
“Never hide from me.”
His face is close to mine, and we are both studying each other. I want to know things about him. Things that I’m not privy to.
“I need you to take my stitches out,” I say.
He picks up my arm and smooths his fingers over the healed cuts. “Magda…”
“I want you to do it.”
His pale blue eyes search mine for answers, but I don’t have any to give. So he simply nods and takes me by the hand, leading me upstairs to my bedroom.
“Sit on the bed,” he instructs.
And I do. My legs dangle over the edge since the bed is tall and I am short. I watch Alexei disappear into the bathroom and return a moment later. He kneels before me with the scissors, and I hand over my arm freely. While he works, I study his tattoos.
“What do they mean?” I ask him.
He looks up at me, and it seems like he didn’t hear me. There is concern in his eyes, but I’m not sure why.
“Your tattoos,” I clarify.
Again, he remains silent. The way he did at Arman’s. He seems tense. And I can’t help but feel like I’m missing something here. Either he doesn’t want to talk about them, or he didn’t understand me.
“You want to know about my tattoos?” he asks.
I nod when he looks up at me.
“The stars on my shoulders I received when I became a Vor,” he tells me. “I have them on my knees, as well. And it is the same reason you also wear my star. To let others know you belong to a Vor. But, more importantly, to me.”
My pulse beats a little faster when he says those words. So full of ownership. But not like Arman. With Alexei, it is different, and I don’t know why. I feel like those words mean he will protect me. Like he promised he would. But that’s a dangerous thought to allow.
“What about the ones on your hands?” I ask.
“These signify my crimes. The time I spent in prison. The rose on my shoulder means that I turned eighteen in prison.”
“What for?” I ask.
“You are a curious kitten,” he remarks, but there is the hint of a smile on his face. “Now that you are speaking.”
I shrug and wait for him to answer. He watches me carefully as he speaks, gauging my reaction.
“You must serve time in prison to become a Vor. It is the old way of doing things. The tradition was still valued at the time I wished to be inducted. So I hacked into a bank at sixteen and diverted the funds of a corrupt politician.”
“So you got caught on purpose?” I ask.
“Yes. But it was nothing. Just a few years. Every Vor must do his time.”
I don’t understand it, but it makes sense to him. He finishes quickly. Too quickly. And I don’t want him to leave yet. So I lean forward into his space and kiss him. The tools in his hands are discarded on the floor, and then he’s on top of me, pressing me back into the bed.