chapter four
IT HADBEEN EIGHT YEARS SINCE KIRA HAD BEEN ANYWHERE BEYOND THIS MANSION.
The west wing, the east wing, the gymnasium, the library. This was all she had ever known since she arrived. She wanted more. However, it must have been the one thing she was afraid to ask. Could she even leave? She wanted to see all the beautiful things that the world had to offer, but even the mere suggestion had Konstantin fall into a bitter mood for the rest of the day. So, she avoided the topic completely.
Then, came one afternoon.
Perhaps it was fate for these two souls to meet.
Kira attacked Gregor, a burly man thrice her size and a hundred times her strength. She rolled on the mat, got onto her knees, and looked up.
That was when he walked into the gym.
He strode in with a charming smile, pearly white teeth, a gorgeous golden mane, and spectacularly startling moss-green eyes.
She was so distracted by his large presence that she didn't see Gregor swipe her off her feet until it was too late. She yelped, toppling backward onto the mat. She groaned but noticed the curious gazes of others land upon her. Her pain was silenced as her cheeks burned.
She scowled and everyone returned to what they were doing.
"Ow!" she hissed to Gregor.
He shrugged, unbothered. "Stop staring at the pretty boy."
Her Russian had drastically improved over the years, especially with Gregor's help. Pushing herself back onto her feet, she responded in Russian, "I wasn't staring at him."
Gregor raised a brow, unconvinced. "You were."
Kira's frown deepened. "Who is he?"
Gregor glanced over and she followed his gaze. The boy, who looked at least two years older than her, laughed. His friend said something, and he laughed again. Kira felt like someone shot her in the chest. She gasped. His smile was so refreshing. Like stepping out of a prison and breathing in the open, clean air. Like touching new books. Like someone who had never known pain. Her eyes caressed his frame. A towel was slung over his shoulders, a tank top revealing his broad shoulders and joggers loosely hung on his pelvis – a body of lean perfection. He looked like a dream.
She blinked just to make sure she wasn't dreaming.
"New recruit," Gregor answered, grabbing his water bottle. He caught Kira's obvious ogling. He smirked. "Do you like him?"
Kira looked scandalized. "No!"
"Yes, you do," he sang, teasingly. "Kira has a cruuussshhh."
"Now you choose to speak in English?" she sulked, grabbing her bottle.
He grinned. "How will you learn true Russian if you don't hear it?"
"I hate you," Kira snapped and stormed away, ignoring the sound of his laughter echoing behind her.
Before dinner, Kira would visit Konstantin for her daily lessons in whatever he chose to teach her today. Whilst she waited to be summoned, she spent the time in her library. She traced the spines of books older than her. This library was hers and hers alone.
It was the one place she could truly be safe in the entire mansion.
It was the only place she could truly be herself.
And it had been invaded.
She saw him before he saw her.
Between the cracks of the bookshelves, she caught him hunched over the desk. His eyes scanned and his fingers turned the pages with rapt attention. His shaggy blonde hair covered his brow, making him look most untidy, in contrast to his pristine appearance in the gym. Kira moved with swift ease. Her footsteps barely touched the ground. Her back pressed against the wooden furniture frames. She inched closer, like a lion to a deer.
"I know you're there," he suddenly spoke.
She stilled.
He peered up. Staring straight at her as if he could see past the bookshelves. His gaze was intensely piercing - like he had the ability to unravel all of her secrets.
"It's rude to stare," His lips twitched, amused. "Aren't you going to say hi?"
She didn't want to.
Kira wanted to be mad at this beautiful boy. So, she responded with narrowed eyes and stepped out from her hiding spot. He tracked her every move, not with fear that she would attack, but with fascination. Like he had never seen a girl before. Or maybe a girl like her.
She felt as vulnerable as the book in his hand.
The roles of predator and prey dramatically shifted.
"You're in my library. Why?" she questioned, curtly.
His eyes lit with delightful surprise. "Oh, you must be Kira – the daughter."
"Stepdaughter," she corrected.
He didn't smile but his moss-green eyes did. "Right."
"So, answer the question," she demanded, inching closer. "This area is closed off."
"Someone said I could find a certain book in here, and I thought it was worth the risk."
Kira recognized the book in his hand.
Anna Karenina.
Kira loved that book as soon as she found it tucked in the fiction section of the library. A book about love and loss.
"You've read it?" he asked.
Kira blinked. "Yes. A few times."
She surprised him again. "I didn't think a girl like you would understand a book like this."
"I didn't think a guy like you would enjoy a book like that.
He broke into a full-on smile. Her heart was in the palm of his hands, and he didn't even know it. He didn't even know that all it took was revealing his dimples. Beautiful dimples.
The air was lost from her lungs.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Kira. The name is Kiryl," he introduced. "Would you like to take a seat?"
She was hesitant but drew out the chair opposite him. His grin may have disappeared, but it remained in his eyes. He closed the book and leaned forward.
"So, Kira, I've heard many things about you," Kiryl's voice dropped a few octaves, laced with a flirty playfulness. Kira brushed it off.
"And, yet, I've heard nothing about you."
He clutched his heart as if she wounded him.
Did he know that he ripped her heart out from her chest?
"Ouch," he gasped. "I didn't realize how insignificant I am to a bigshot such as yourself."
"Cut to the chase, Kirgirl."
"It's Kiryl."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," This time, Kira leaned towards him until there was a ruler width of space between them. "What do you want?"
She was so full of distrust. Maybe Kiryl saw that. His eyes softened, making his face more handsome.
"I told you – this was the only place I could find this book."
"Bull."
"Nasty words from a little girl. How old are you? Thirteen?"
"Fourteen."
He mulled over her response. "I'm sixteen."
"I swear, I'm five seconds away from punching the living daylights out of you," she snarled.
Kiryl laughed. He just laughed.
Kira's heart bounced back to life.
He crossed his arms and sat back. "You're truly something, butterfly."
"Don't call me that," she glowered.
"Why not? It suits you. Have you heard of the butterfly effect?" he questioned.
She sighed, exasperated. "What about it?"
"One flap of a butterfly's wing could cause a hurricane someplace else. Once upon a time, that butterfly was a caterpillar. The world is so large, yet one small creature could change the trajectory of something else. Isn't that beautiful?"
It was, but she didn't respond. She simply glared at him. "Stay out of my library."
"On the contrary, my dear butterfly," Kiryl's lips curled into a devilish smirk and Kira knew she was in trouble. "I have even more of a reason to stay."
And even though she didn't want to admit it, Kira hoped he kept his word.
And he did.
For weeks, she unwillingly shared her library with Kiryl. They argued and bickered, but somewhere in that haze of dislike and like, they became friends. And he showed her what the world looked like. He showed her pictures and videos of snow across the planet and sunshine in countries below them. They shared hopes and dreams. Fears and losses. Things they loved and things they hated. Until they knew everything about each other, and she was completely enraptured. She wasn't the only one. Kiryl found himself gravitating, craving, needing her attention, whenever she was in his company. She was his forbidden fruit, and he took a bite. A single taste, so sweet, so pure, and he was falling from grace.
But she wouldn't be able to save him.
Not when he was in the house of the devil.
*
Ever since her biological father had sold her off, Kira's heart had been as cold as the mountains bordering the northern land. Yet, overtime, it melted and thawed. Though, it was for Kiryl that it finally melted.
"I hate you," Kira snorted, and threw a handful of popcorn at him. He laughed, dodging her attack. "You're a jerk."
On the mezzanine floor of the library, accessed only by a secret spiral staircase in the far back of the library, the pair had built a home cinema. They used spare white bedsheets, and a projector Kiryl had managed to sneak in with him after his trip into the closest town. He set up a DVR for her and bought CDs for her. Pillows and blankets cushioned the wooden floor, their backs propped up against a bookshelf. Daylight seeped through the gaps above or between the books, but it was dark and the only source of light came from the projected screen.
"Flynn Ryder is a terrible character," he retorted. "And he's ugly."
"He's beautiful!" Kira gasped. "Take that back."
Kiryl snickered, "Make me."
She lunged at him before he could blink and used a pillow as a weapon. He broke into fits of laughter, not even trying to defend himself. He lifted his arms to shield his face, but Kira's relentless attacks did not stop.
"Don't trash Tangled!" Kira huffed, smacking him one last time before tossing the pillow to the side. As Kiryl's laughter subsided, Kira realized she had mounted herself on top of him.
Her cheeks bloomed red.
Intending to push herself away, a hand on her waist stopped her. She froze and looked down, inhaling sharply at how intensely he stared at her. It stole her breath away tenfold.
"What?" she whispered, breathlessly.
"You know what film I think you'll like?" he murmured, reaching out and brushing her hair behind her ear. She was afraid the spell would break if she moved. "Mulan. You remind me of her. Stubborn," That earned him another whack and he laughed, grabbing her wrist. Then, he continued, mellow, "But strong and intelligent."
Kira's shoulders loosened. "My mother used to play that film when I was little."
She moved off him and stared at the still image of Flynn Ryder looking at Rapunzel with adoration whilst she looked at the radiant lanterns in the sky. Kiryl sat up beside her.
"She thought it would help mute the arguments, but it didn't," Kira chuckled, bitterly. "Obviously, it didn't end very well."
"I'm sorry, Kira," he murmured.
She didn't want his pity. She didn't want anyone's pity.
"It's still my favorite film," Kira forced a smile, meeting his malachite eyes. "It reminds me that I can become anything I want."
He stared at her for the longest minute. His gaze was indecipherable. Then, he whispered, "You're truly amazing."
And then he kissed her.
Fireworks erupted behind her eyes and adrenaline shot through her body like a speeding bullet. The world stopped as she sunk closer into him. His heart in her hands. Her hands pressed against chest. She felt the thunder of his heartbeat. She felt it race, like hers. She felt seen.
She was young, but when he kissed her, she felt as if she knew the world. Every darkness and the light. She didn't care much about anything else. She tasted the sin on him, the wickedness with every kiss had her yearning for more. In the ocean, he was her lighthouse, and she was the boat, struggling to return to port. In the sky, he was the stars, and she was the plane, navigating her way back home. He was the melody behind the words she sang. He was the daisies she picked in the meadows.
He was her heart, throbbing in her chest as it yearned for his touch.
Young love.
Naïve and innocent.
And cruel.
When they tore apart, he rested his forehead against hers and their breathing synced with each heartbeat. No one spoke; Kira didn't know what to say. She didn't want to break the silence. Suddenly, Kiryl grinned.
"I knew it," he began. She arched her brow, curious. His green eyes glistened. "You taste as sweet as honey, butterfly."
Kira laughed for the first time in years.
out in January 2024. pre-orders are available on Amazon.
fariha.
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