“I never once lied about who I was.”

There it is. The moral judgment. I open my mouth to snap back but force myself to be silent. To consider what he’s saying. My mother’s words ring in my ears: You want to be treated like an adult? Start acting like one.

I take a deep breath. “The situation is hardly the same.”

“It’s not the same,” he agrees quietly. “If you hadn’t looked at him with your heart in your eyes, I would’ve killed him the night you told us he was a Romanov.”

I jerk around and stare at Dad, my eyes wide. “What?”

“I’m still not sure I made the right call.” I’ve never seen his eyes so cold. “The boy cares about you, but he is a Romanov. He comes with the kind of baggage that ruins lives.”

“Dad, if you hurt him, I’ll never forgive you.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t do it.” He props himself back up on his hands. “I know you’re too enmeshed in it right now, but look at it from our perspective. We love you. We want what’s best for you. Choosing him means you’ll never have a peaceful life. The Romanovs will always be looking for a foothold in our territory, and you will have to spend the rest of your years fighting to hold your boundaries. Your children will be half-Romanov, which puts them in the position of having to push back against powerful family too. That will be the legacy you and the Mad Wolf leave behind.”

It’s nothing more than I’ve considered myself. But he’s not speaking in judgment. He’s merely laying out the facts. So I force myself to listen. To think about it. “I understand that.”

“You think you do, but you can’t ever properly prepare for that sort of thing. No one can.”

I clear my throat. “What are you saying?” As much as I’ve begun to make my peace with caring about Casimir, with loving him, if my parents stand in our way, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’d have to walk away from being heir. Worse, I’d have to walk away from my parents completely. That’s not a choice I want to be forced to make.

“I am saying that we’ve spoken with your aunt, and there are two paths forward. You cut off all ties with the Romanov right now. Or you marry him like you say you plan and that’s it.”

“What do you mean ‘that’s it’?”

“I mean if you marry a Romanov, then you don’t get to change your mind later. If you fall out of love, or if this is just infatuation, it won’t matter, because you’ll be stuck. You won’t be able to kill your husband without his family coming calling and attempting to raze the territory to the ground. You’d better hope he lives a nice long life, too, because they won’t believe a death by natural causes.” He sighs. “All we’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy, but we obviously made some missteps along the way. You are heir, Ruby. Your choices and actions have consequences for more than just you. More than even just our family. Every single person in this territory relies on us to keep things running efficiently. To keep them safe.”

“I know that,” I say softly, stung. The responsibility has been drilled into me for as long as I can remember. It’s why I did my best not to step outside the lines . . . until recently. But the more I think about it, the more I can’t help feeling that Casimir and I are not in dissimilar positions. We were both playing roles that weren’t our full selves for a very long time. And we both went fully toxic when the pressure got to be too much.

Reality is so much more complicated. Messy.

Please be alive, Casimir. Please come back to me with an assurance of peace.

“Now you know that.” Dad rises easily to his feet and offers me his hand. “I would give you all the time you need to make that decision, and your mom had good point, wanting a month apart and for him to court you properly. Unfortunately your aunt feels differently, and Cordelia is the territory leader, so her word is law. You have until tonight.”

I take his hands, and he hauls me upright. Then the words penetrate. “What do you mean I only have until tonight? I don’t even know if he’s coming back, and you want me to make a decision?”

“Oh, he’s back.” He grabs a nearby towel to wipe the sweat from his face. “He showed up before I came to get you.”

I stare. “We’ve been in here for over an hour.”

“Yeah.” He grabs a clean towel and tosses it at me. “Won’t hurt him to wait a little longer. Why don’t you take a shower before you go find him?”

I don’t call Dad an asshole, but it’s hovering right there on the tip of my tongue. Then again I suppose this was a test in and of itself. For both Casimir and me.

I catch a glimpse of myself in one of the nearby mirrors. The makeup I had on earlier is smudged from working out, and there’s no saving my hair. Casimir has seen me looking messier than this, but I need a minute to think about what Dad said. “Yeah, a shower sounds good.”

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18

Idon’t exactly take my time in the shower, but I don’t rush either. It’s nearly another hour later when I finally walk into the foyer. Set up against the wall, there’s an antique bench that no one ever uses. Casimir looks absurd perched on the edge of it, his elbows propped on his knees. He’s not fidgeting or showing even the smallest sign of impatience. But when he looks up as I walk through the archway, his pale eyes go molten hot.

“Hey, baby.”

I chose my clothing carefully, wanted to remind him of everything he said he’s been missing for the last twelve days. My short wrap dress is a deep crimson that matches my lips. I’ve curled my hair so it falls around my shoulders in careless waves. I look fucking good.

He looks even better. As Luke, he often wore suits for work, but they were always slightly ill fitting. As Wolf, he only ever showed up in a hoodie, jeans, and a skull mask, his leather gloves constantly in place. Now he’s wearing a designer suit that fits him so perfectly, it has to be tailored. The dark blue contrasts with a pale-blue shirt nearly the same color as his eyes.

All I want to do is rip everything off him and reacquaint myself with his body, but Dad’s warning lingers in my mind. The stakes have never been higher. If I make this choice, it’s for keeps. I don’t get to back out or change my mind later. I know what my heart is saying. I know what my head is saying too.

What I don’t know is what Casimir is thinking.

“Did you do what I asked you?” I finally say.

“Things in Russia were a little more complicated than I expected.” He gives a slight shrug. “My uncle doesn’t like to be challenged, so it had to be handled delicately.”

“That’s not an answer, Casimir.”

He reaches into his jacket and produces a paper. I accept it and unfold it, finding a letter from Jovan. It’s a lot of flowery shit and doublespeak, and while he gives his word not to attack the Belmonte territory . . . there are obviously a lot of loopholes he left open to exploit. “This isn’t good enough.”

“I know.” He stares at me intently. “I spoke with my father, and while he is not the leader of the Romanov family, his word is above reproach.” He rises slowly to his feet. “If you say yes to me, then my branch of the Romanov family will stand with us regardless of whether or not Jovan goes back on his word. I can’t speak for the other territories—they’ll have to figure their shit out—but the Belmonte territory and all its people are safe from Romanov meddling. My family and I will make sure of it.”

I blink, trying to process what the fuck he just said. Casimir’s uncle Jovan is the ultimate ruler of the Romanov family, which means his children are the ones who will inherit that throne. If what Casimir’s saying is true, then his father, the second Romanov brother, would potentially rebel if Jovan gave the order to hurt us. “How am I supposed to believe that?”