Meant to Be My Balance

Chapter 13

I didn't stop to knock at the door, heading straight in. The Darkling was at the mirror, fingers on his kefta as if he were about to change for the night. They paused at the sound of me coming in, his eyes meeting mine through the mirror.

"What's wrong with you?"

A dry chuckle. "How can I help you, Alina?"

"I—I can't wrap my head around you. You manipulated me when I first came to the Little Palace, you tried to take my powers, you decimated Novokribirsk, tried to assassinate the royal family, started a war—"

"I know, I'm cruel, I'm a killer, I'm the devil incarnate. Is that all?" I thought I saw Aleksander's shoulders tighten.

I clenched my fists by my side, my eyes filling with tears. "Why did you kiss me? Why are you bringing me into this?"

He finally turned away, anger brimming in his silver eyes. "I didn't bring you into anything. You were born with this power, with this destiny."

"I was born an orphan."

"You were born," he said, shaking, "my equal."

A shiver tore through my body and the Darkling strode toward me, taking my face in his hands. "What I've done—I haven't added evil into this world. The world has always been cruel. The world will always hate Grisha, will kill anything unnatural. I'm protecting that." I thought his eyes grew glassy—just enough to reflect the candlelight. "After all this time, do you not see that?"

"Aleksander," I whispered. "You—you've done unforgivable things."

"Novokribirsk will rise again in a few years, Genya's scars will not keep her from a happy life, the Lantsovs will live in luxury, albeit exile. What will stay is peace. Novokribirsk, Genya, and the Lantsovs will never rebel."

I closed my eyes. I'd never thought I would justify these violent acts—I couldn't—and yet Aleksander was right. I knew him better than anyone else. I understood him like no other. To me, this war was my life. To him, it was nothing more than a moment of unrest.

But me...

"Then why did you hurt me? Why did you... manipulate me, if you knew we would be eternal?"

"My Alina," he whispered, his thumb stroking my cheek. "I didn't manipulate you."

I didn't have time to ask him anything—his lips moved onto mine, gentle and soft, sweet like a summer night. His long, pale fingers, held my face, and our bodies were pressed together as he kissed me, his lips tasting like desperation even though his touch was slow.

"Aleksander," I breathed. A low groan ripped from him, his eyes squeezing shut at the sound of his name on my lips, barely a whisper. My fingers clutched the front of his kefta, his firm chest beneath my palm.

"Again." His hands lowered to my waist, holding me as his lips moved against mine.

"Aleksander," I croaked, my voice raw, lips swollen.

His fingers pressed against my bare hip, clutching me, his thumb circling against my skin, lips hot on mine.

"You want me, Alina?" My hair stuck to my neck, our bodies pressed together.

"Yes," I rasped.

His lips peppered down my neck, brushing against Morozova's collar. A surge of power flooded me, warm and bright, making goosebumps rise on every inch of my skin.

A knock sounded from behind the double doors, and the Darkling's groan of frustration echoed against my skin. His fingers tightened on me, his eyes shut, as if he wanted to pretend he hadn't heard the noise at all.