I had gained a few head turns when I entered the tavern; it could have been because I was a lone female, or it could be due to my attire. The eyes quickly scattered once I reached Ivan and Eddie. An empty seat sat between them; I took it and tapped on the bar to signal the server's attention.

"Rose?"

I glanced at Eddie. "Yes?"

He blinked, then went back to his drink, "Didn't recognise you. Where's Dimitri?"

Anger simmered below the surface, and I stared at the shot glass the server filled with amber liquor. "He's outside." And a damn fool. I swallowed back my drink in one gulp. It burned, but I welcomed the familiar sensation. My mother taught me how to hold my liquor so I would never be vulnerable when a man offered me a drink.

I tapped the bar again and watched them refill the glass.

"Might want to slow down on that." Eddie cautioned with a smile but faulted under my glare.

"With how the rain is falling, I doubt we are leaving anytime soon."

A huff sounded behind me, then heavy footfalls until a man leaned over my shoulder; Spiridon scowled at me, "That's my seat."

"Find a new one," I growled back, followed by taking another shot.

His breath hit the back of my neck. Muttered insults were lost in the sound of the cheers and piano playing as Spiridon stalked to a seat further down the bar. He hated me, even before I held a knife to his throat; that only exasperated it.

I ordered another drink.

Marcas took the bottle from the server, winking at me as he poured my third drink and pushed the glass to me. "You drink as well as a man," he complimented and poured a glass for himself. I didn't care to challenge anyone with how much I drank, offering a half-heart tip of my glass when he saluted me with his.

The burn faded with each swallow, and I felt the warmth of the alcohol in my stomach. I nudged Ivan with my elbow as Marcas poured us both another. "Did you find out what you needed?"

He hesitated a moment. "I think it's better to wait for Dimitri."

"Of course," I grumbled and picked up my shot and drank it, "Let me know when the men have finished talking."

I reached for the bottle in Marcas' hand and stood with it. Carrying my bundle in one hand and the bottle in the other, I chose a table closer to the lit fireplace. Propriety was long forgotten as I pulled up a chair for my feet and reclined across the two seats. I drank straight from the bottle, taking mouthfuls as the giddiness of the drink took over my body.

Half of the bottle was gone before Dimitri returned, water dripping off the brim of his hat and the hem of his duster. I felt his eyes on me as he walked past, followed by a few looks sent my way as he spoke to the others at the bar.

As much as I enjoyed appraising Dimitri, especially with the light of the fire casting a glow on his features, I turned my attention to others in the room. The rain drew more to the tavern, or maybe the women had. I was no stranger to prostitutes and I didn't look down on them for making a living with what they could. I knew I was fortunate to be born into wealth, and doubted I could do what they did.

Mason told me stories about the Gentlemen's club he frequented; most didn't think such affairs were for my ears, but I couldn't care less what they thought. One of the women came up to me, assuming I was another man; she had complimented my hair and told me I could fill my purse with a face like mine. It proved her right when a man in dark clothes and muddy boots dropped into the chair beside me; he slapped a few notes on the table and leered at me.

"How much for the night?"

"Leave," another warned. I didn't have to turn to know it was Dimitri; his voice was dangerous, filled with an icy tone that sent a shiver through my body. I wasn't scared of him.

The man aimed a cocky grin at Dimitri and raked his eyes down my body to the tightly fitted trousers. "Wait your turn. I was here first."

A response was on the tip of my tongue, but Dimitri reacted first. No more words were exchanged, just his fist curled around the man's labels; Dimitri yanked the man from his seat and dragged him to the swinging doors. The man was unable to break free and was thrown out into the rain.

Dimitri marched back to my table and crossed his arms as he stared down at me. I held his eyes and took another sip from the bottle, and mused, "My other bodyguards would have just shot him."

"I'm trying to avoid unwanted attention," he replied with a serious tone. "You shouldn't be drinking."

"I can do what I want."

His lips pressed together. "We are staying the night due to the weather. I've got you a room, you should go sleep."

I laughed. "I don't have to do anything you say. My father is paying you to bring me home, not to control me." Our stare never broke, energy charged between us. Dimitri was keeping something from me and treating me like I didn't need to know. If he believed I was a docile female after the past week, I planned to prove him otherwise. I relaxed in my seat and tapped the glass of the bottle in my hand, "I'm hungry."

"Rose, this isn't a game."

"You're being paid to look after me, so get me some food." The words left a bitter taste in my mouth. I felt a hint of shame at ordering him around. I rarely spoke to people in such a way, but Dimitri managed to bring out the stubborn side of me as much as he brought out affection.

Dimitri's shoulders tensed, a look in his eyes like a fire burning close to the surface. If I kept pushing, I knew I would be burned.

"Come now, Belikov," Marcas drawled, a large hand patting Dimitri's shoulder, "You are here for the night. Let the lady relax." Marcas pushed between us and leaned forward with a charming smile, "What can I get you to eat, Miss Hathaway?"

I turned my focus to Marcas, tilted my head to the side and offered a sweet smile, "Surprise me."

The storm continued to rage on outside; the rumble of thunder made the earth shake as the sky lit up. It never toned down the loud conversation inside; merriment continued, though it remained far from me. The watchful glare of Dimitri kept any from approaching. At least I found some company with Eddie and Ivan as we ate. A few women joined and found as much joy as I did at making the younger of the two flustered.

My stomach was full, and I was a little unsteady on my feet when I finally went up to the room they had for me. The woman who had complimented my looks was the one to take me upstairs; the room was down a short hall and, thankfully, the furthest from the noise downstairs.

I was given a basin with clean water and a cloth to wash; the alcohol made me clumsy and only managed to wipe my face before I settled for sleep. The drops of rain hitting the glass-paned window lulled me to sleep and muffled the sounds of the voices in the rooms around mine.

A sudden clash of thunder woke me. I shot up in the bed with a scream caught in my throat. My skin felt clammy, and my chest ached from how my heart pounded.

Maybe it wasn't the storm that woke me.

Something felt off.

The room was silent except for the sound of rain that continued to fall; some time must have passed if downstairs was quiet. I could hear my blood pulse in time with my heart, but the hairs on my arm stood.

I wasn't alone in my room.

I reached under my pillow to retrieve the gun Dimitri gave me, and aimed it towards my door. Their shadow blended in the night, but when lightning flashed, their face was illuminated for a second.

My eyes widened. "What are you doing in here?"

Dimitri stepped closer, and another flash of light filled the room. He was silent aside from the creaks of the floor when he moved; Dimitri fiddled with something, a box that rattled softly. I heard wood drag.

A spark of light filled the room, and then the dim light from a candle shined on the table by him, the soft glow showed his tired eyes.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

I hadn't lowered the gun, but my hand shook. "Why are you here?"

"You were crying. I came in to check on you."

It was then I noticed the wetness on my cheeks. I finally lowered the gun. I used the back of my hand to wipe my cheeks, grateful for the low light, it meant Dimitri wouldn't be able to see the state of my face.

I remembered what truly woke me—a nightmare.

"How could you hear me?" I asked.

Dimitri took a step closer, now at the foot of the bed. He was dressed as usual with his duster on and hat in his hands. "I was outside–"

"You were at my door?"

"I slept there, just in case," he admitted softly. "Protecting you—as is my job."

Shame made me drop my eyes. "I appreciate it, even if I don't deserve it."

"You deserve to be safe, Rose. Even if your father hadn't paid me, I would protect you."

Those words made fresh tears fall; I sobbed but tried to silence it. "That's a nice sentiment. I can hardly believe my father paid you at all."

The man whom I called my father barely looked at me without grief in his eyes; I couldn't remember the last time he smiled at me in the past three years. The night my mother died in front of me was the last time Abe showed kindness.

The brush of fingers through my hair made me still, and then I leaned into them. I hadn't heard Dimitri move closer, but I was grateful for the comfort when he sat on the edge of the mattress and drew me close. My chest heaved as a bundle of emotions rose to the surface, each knotted and painful; all of them ones I had ignored for so long.

"Your father cares about you," Dimitri promised as his arms wrapped around me. He didn't hesitate when I leaned into the embrace or pull away when I cried harder. Despite how I treated him earlier that night, Dimitri was kind when I needed him.

The feelings that churned in me battled against themselves, as I became overcome with grief for what I lost, but then I felt joy in Dimitri's arms. I didn't deserve it.

"I'm sorry," I whispered between sharp inhales, "I shouldn't–"

"It's alright."

I laughed again, the sound watery and depressed. "Abe wishes I died the night my mother did. I thought he would be happy I was gone."

"Whatever it is that makes you believe that he doesn't care is wrong, Rose," he tried again with the soothing motion of his hand on my back. "Your father contacted me the night you went missing, sent a telegram to my home and woke me before dawn. I had never seen Zmey so distraught in the years I've worked for him. He instructed me to do anything to return you safely, and I promised I would."

I couldn't believe him, not when I remembered the look Abe gave me when he saw I was still alive while my mother's body laid next to me. The bullet was intended for me—the gun aimed at me—but Janine had stood in front of me. It passed through her and nicked my side; the scar was small and faded over the years, but it was still there.

The memories of the night never left me—the nightmare that always returned.

Dimitri wrapped both arms around me and held me tightly, providing warmth I hadn't realised I needed; the chill of the night settled on my skin since I was no longer covered by the quilt. The sudden realisation that I was only in my thin chemise made my tears dry as my cheeks heated.

Dimitri had such an imposing form, more obvious when pressed up against me; I disappeared behind him and felt so small in his arms. I liked it. Surrounded by him and protected was a wonderful feeling.

My hands pressed against his chest, hidden underneath his duster; he felt so solid. I didn't think I could move him even if I tried with all my strength; not that I wanted him to move away. I curled my fingers around the fabric of his shirt to keep him close.

Mason had kissed me in the past, our bodies close as this, and I had my hands against his chest as well. But there was something so different about it. The embrace with Mason made me giddy, with an excited smile on my face and a bundle of nerves in my stomach—but that was because I was more enticed by the idea that we might be caught.

With Dimitri, I felt a tremble in my hands—one that made me hold on tighter in case he decided to pull away. We weren't even kissing, yet I didn't want him to leave. There were no butterflies in my stomach, but instead, a weight that kept me still; I didn't even risk a deep breath in case it broke the spell between us.

I couldn't put my finger on why it felt so different in his arms. For days, I had ridden in front of him and experienced an embrace almost the same as this, but it was different.

So very different.

Slowly, I tilted my head back, blinking the remaining moisture from my eyes so I could gaze at him clearly. Dimitri was already staring down at me, an unreadable expression on his face. His lips were parted, just enough for a shallow breath; his eyes pinned me in place as they flicked across my face before they settled on my lips.

I wondered if he thought of kissing me.

I wanted to kiss him.

The storm continued, though the sounds seemed to fade, and all I could hear was my heart beating steadily in my chest. It wasn't a swoon—no fleeting fancy. I wanted Dimitri.

He inched closer. Warm breath fanned my cheeks, and my eyes fluttered close. I waited for Dimitri's lips to press against mine.

They didn't.

"You should sleep," Dimitri told me in a thick accentuated voice. His arms drew back, and with it, the warmth he gave me.

I felt cold, sitting in my bed in my underthings, in front of a man that pulled away. I dropped my chin and shrunk back in embarrassment. What must he think of me?

A finger curled under my chin and made me look back up. Dimitri's eyes were gentle. "I want to kiss you," he admitted in a voice barely above a whisper, so filled with awe. "I wish I could… but I can't."

Different worlds.

"Is it because I'm Zmey's daughter?"

Dimitri faltered, then continued sadly, "There are many reasons." His hand dropped, and he moved back to the door. "Sleep, Roza. Tomorrow we will keep moving, and I will continue to protect you until I've returned you to your father. That's all I can allow."

He was halfway through the doorway before I asked, "What if I want more?"

Dimitri stilled, back to me, his expression lost in the shadows. "Goodnight," was his only response, and then he was gone.

The room felt bigger than it had before—lonelier.

My fingers touched my lips; we hadn't kissed, yet I still felt a buzz under my skin.

Dimitri wanted to kiss me.

He wanted me.

That was enough for now.