“If it’s my fate to chase you, then I will. I will do anything to keep you.” He put his head in his hands and rocked back and forward. “After you ran . . . imagining my existence without you . . . I realize . . .”

“What?”

He raised his head to me. “Concerns beyond you no longer matter. You’re at the center of my life”—he frowned—“no, you are my life.”

“Then why don’t you treat me like it? I didn’t even know your real name!” In a cutting tone, I said, “Isn’t that something a fiancée should know?”

“Aleksandr was my grandfather’s name. I cast off my first name when young. Maksim calls me Roman to goad me.”

“Why did you tell him we were engaged?”

“Already there is troubling interest in you as an heiress. You’ll be safer if it gets out that you’re marrying a man who can protect you.”

So Sevastyan was just putting up a front to keep me safe, to fulfill his promise to Paxán—

“And . . . I expected to wed you.” He admitted, “I want to.”

An answering want bubbled up inside me! Then I remembered all the reasons it would never work. “Earlier, you ordered me from the room like a dog—in front of your brother.”

“You’re not to be around him, Natalie. He’s dangerous.”

I wondered what it took for a man like Sevastyan to deem another dangerous. “Why?”

“Because I can never predict what he’ll do.”

“What would it have hurt for you to tell me what you and your brother have been doing for me?”

“The plan is risky. At any moment we could fail. If I tell you I will do something, it’s because I’m confident I can. Not so with this. Plus, the less you know, the safer it is for you.”

Plausible deniability. And to be fair, I couldn’t see him telling me, “I have an idea—probably won’t work—but I’m giving it a shot anyway.”

He added, “Besides, if I disclosed this to you, then you would have asked about Maksim, forcing me to continue my lie to you. I don’t want to lie anymore.”

“What about your becoming the vor? Don’t you think that’s a decision we should have made together?”

“You might have talked me out of it, though I can see no way around it.”

“You didn’t even give me a chance to come to the same conclusion? I’ve surprised you before. I’m not il logical—well, except for being with you.”

Pain flared in his eyes. “It’s not that I don’t want your opinion. But I know that the more I talk to you, the more you will expect me to.”

“You’re right. I would have liked for you to tell me at least the most basic things about your past!”

“Maybe I haven’t wanted to reveal these things because I know it will drive you away! The more I want you, the more I dread this. You’ve seen my dread.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Each night, I’ve been tempted to talk to you. A couple of times I came so close. Then, in the morning I would curse my stupidity, my weakness.” He turned away. “I’ve never been so weak with another. And maybe . . . maybe I blamed you for making me feel like this.”

“Like what?”

He whirled around on me. “Like I’ll die without you! And if my past drives you away, then where does that leave me? Fucking dead ! So why have I also been feeling the need to tell you of the past? It makes no sense!”

“That’s your excuse for your coldness?” After every blissful night, he’d awakened even more resolved to shut me out, blaming me because he’d almost folded? “Let me get this straight. You’ve been a dick to me because you wanted me more than you did before?”

He didn’t deny it.

“God! Again, you’re not giving me a chance. You’re driving me away by not talking to me. You know what? I—give—up. If you dreaded every time I asked about your past, you’re really going to now that I’ve stopped.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you get to keep your secrets.” Fresh tears spilled down my face. “I don’t want them anymore!”

“You want me to confide in you because you think it will fix things in me, heal me. It won’t!” Voice rising with each word, he said, “I will always have these shadows inside me!”

I yelled back, “Damn it, Sevastyan, I never wanted the shadows to disappear—I wanted them to be our shadows!”

His lips parted, eyes filled with bafflement.

“I wanted to know you; not fix you.”

He recovered enough to say, “And what if these shadows show you that you can never have what you want of me? That my past makes it impossible for me to offer you the future you crave.”

I dashed tears away with the back of my hand. “What kind of future do you think I want?”

“A life with a good man.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

“But a man is defined by his past,” he said. “Which means I’m a killer. I always will be. There’s nothing I can do to erase that for you. No matter how hard I work or how much I sacrifice, it follows me and always will. How do I keep it from tainting you?”

“I already know about your occupation. I accepted it. I’ve seen you kill twice. Is there more?”