Natasha Van Doren is a shadow summoner. She bides her time and resides in darkness, feared and esteemed by Ketterdam's civilians, a ghost . She cons Kaz Brekker into joining a heist he can't refuse and with thirty million kruge on the line, the crow...
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" I want to kiss you, "
- N.L
NIKOLAI LANTSOV'S ARMS CIRCLED NATASHA'S WAIST, deepening the starved and dangerous kiss. His lips stirred in a heartbeat with hers, delicate and laced with the elegant taste of good Frejdan wine. Natasha's fingers tangled in his honey-blonde curls.
But then, Nikolai forced himself back, almost bewildered at his actions. His gaze settled on her thickly, Natasha's silvery eyes swimming with bitter tears. He traced his thumb across Natasha's lower lip, cupping her cheek in his soft palm.
"I want to kiss you," Nikolai said. His voice was sensitive and humane, too kind to completely veil the cynical contempt burning in the sea of his eyes. "I really do, doll," He appended with a slight chuckle.
Nikolai pushed Natasha's forehead against his. She leaned into the familiar scent - woody cologne, the distant sprinkle of saltwater and sea spindrift, the warm touch of cherry wine. "But I won't,"
Both of Nikolai's hand rested on either side of Natasha's face, thumbing the salient curvature of her jaw and the arched peaks of her red lips. "Not until you truly want me, and not your friends' freedom,"
Nikolai pushed her head to the side, his fingers still considerately caressing Natasha's shivering skin. His hand traced to the nape of her neck, contemplating the serene eloquence listed on her eyes and mouth.
Abruptly, He stepped away, tousling his hair in the reflection of a large glossed mirror. He smoothly unclipped the first buttons of his coat, a starch white shirt peeking through the thick black robe.
"Sex," Nikolai said. He grazed his middle finger along her cheek, smearing the tinted blush. "I am sure the Zemeni ambassadors are already betting on it behind the door," Natasha swivelled her head, mouth contorted in repugnance.
"What's the matter, doll?" The Ravkan king purred. "There's no shame in a good tumble," He eyed her up and down, keeping his arms crossed over his chest. "Have you already forgotten our special history," Nikolai arched his brow, a saintly smirk, beautifying his pink lips.
"How could I," Natasha spat darkly. Her voice was low and malignant, a consummate mockery of Nina Zenic. "Slipping into your bed on lonely nights, stealing kisses from your lips behind the columns of the palace, eating off your plate at meals?"
Nikolai didn't dare speak a word. "How you bought gifts for me," Natasha's pitch grew louder and louder with each word. "How you sat with me each night reciting bad poetry and played the piano,"
"You remembered?"
"Evidently," Natasha scoffed. She dragged up the sleeves of her dress, exhibiting the ugly black scars settling into her veins. "Because that is all I am, an abomination of merzost and the whore who managed to seduce Nikolai Lantsov,"
Nikolai scrutinised the damaged skin, cupping her wrist in his palm. The tears were pure on her cheeks, and Nikolai stroked them away with his free hand. His finger sketched down the meandering curves of shadows beneath her skin. With his touch, they bled away soundlessly.
"How did you-"
Nikolai pressed a finger to her lips, hushing Natasha with a trademark smirk. Casually, he swept down the sleeve of her dress, kissing the butchered menagerie tattoo at her pulse. "Don't question it, doll."
He twirled her around, and for a single moment, Natasha felt like a veritable princess, pleased in rich Ravkan velvet and the boy she had once loved. "I'm sorry," Natasha whispered, soaking in the pure sight of his cerulean eyes.
"I wish I could be," Nikolai responded. He paced towards the door, his hand clenched around the handle. "Now go," Nikolai's hand ghosted Natasha's waist, only lightly skimming the fabric for the illusion of intimate touch.
Nikolai turned back to her a final time, now as towering and compelling as a sincere king should. Lantsov was no longer the patient and innocent boy that Natasha once loved. He was defeated and destroyed by the gentle nature of yearning. Only that, Nikolai Lantsov was as stubborn as a phoenix.
The Ravkan king grieved for the girl, who loved nothing more but a boy kissed, by death herself. "I can not countermand my orders," His voice was distant and demanding. "I have given orders to my people to eliminate anyone seen operating with your... friends,"
Nikolai graciously excepted a flute of bubbling champagne from a passing waiter, taking a pause to sip. "You can only delay them," He gestured to Natasha's free hand. "Think of it as a game," He laughed, already walking away. "Cat and mouse, but you can't hide, only run,"
A ship sunk in treacherous waters within Natasha's chest, and for a moment, she observed as Nikolai escaped into the crowd, turning back to his personnel with a gorgeous smile.
Natasha curled her fingers unceremoniously, sampling on a glass of cherry wine with her free hand. A swooping crow of darkness swept over the room.
People pushed and shoved around Natasha, their arms gripping onto her shoulder for support. Guns cocked - steering aimlessly across the room. Natasha's palm spread a poised flow of sticky shadows.
The final thing she saw before the darkness managed to swallow its surroundings was the scintillating glint of Nikolai's eyes. His fingers tapped against the cuff of his sleeve, counting down the ringing chime of death.
Her stomach reeled, but Nikolai was already gone, a soul stolen with the abomination of shadows. The darkness wouldn't hold without a separate power source, and Baghara hadn't gotten that far with Natasha's training.
She turned back a final time to see the guards stupidly crowded in front of the chocolate fountains, their gun barrels drenched in saccharine goodness.
Natasha swore, weaving her combed hair into a messy and tangled plait. It slipped over her shoulder reassuringly, hanging heavy against her stomach like the tubing body of a python. On graceful feet, she began the steeping descent upwards.
Her emotions rocked with her skull, cleaving open like fused atoms. Each step sent a biting spear through her chest, a cruel drive to the rough cobblestone steps of the ice palace.
Nikolai was damnably handsome. Brave in battle, smart as a whip, an excellent dancer, and an even better shot - as he loved to brag. He had stolen her heart in an instant, seeing her for as something more.
But then there was Kaz Brekker, Dirty hands, Bastard of the Barrel, The most dangerous boy in all of Ketterdam. Burnt coffee and rough kisses.
At the sparest moments, he gazed up at Natasha like she was a deity. Divine in all aspects and something to be worshipped. Natasha craved his touch, the longing desperation in his kisses.
She wanted two things she could never have.
A/N
- Sorry this chapter is so short I'm on the tube - going home from school right now - and this is the only free time I have until I have to do more revision. If you enjoyed please vote and comment, and if you're also doing exams, good luck!!
