Bratva Dark Allegiance: The Complete Collection

by Raven Scott

  I clenched my jaw hard. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or not; how was I supposed to distract a man? A man that probably would try to kill me when he found out what I was doing?

  “You just have to keep him in the drawing room, Yelene. Nothing dangerous. My office is soundproof, and the kitchen is on the other side of the house for a reason. I promise, you’ll be perfectly safe.”

  Drawing away, I laid down on my back to stare at the ceiling as Ophelia’s assurance did little to quell the raging anxiety boiling my blood. My mind whirred furiously and I covered my face to heave a massive breath as my heart threatened to burst through my ribs. “Okay.” I didn’t really have a choice, did I? Because I’d agreed to help, stupid me. My whisper blanketed my body in goosebumps that, under my short clothes.

  Ophelia noticed. Softly, she put her palm against my sternum comfortingly. “It’ll only be for a few minutes.” The assurance was hollow, echoing in my ears, as she rubbed my chest soothingly with her thumb. “You’re important to me, Yelene. I would never put you in direct danger, but this whole situation—I can’t keep the peril at bay completely. For the past year, you’ve been a great friend, and I don’t say that lightly. I don’t have many genuine friends, but I count you among the best.”

  Regret glued my tongue to the roof of my mouth. “I appreciate it.”

  She hesitantly withdrew her hand, and the bed straightened when she stood.

  Things were moving so fast, but nothing was happening. Decisions were being made but not acted upon. Everyone was involved and yet, somehow, I was far removed. Fear gripped my heart in a vice, and I pushed my palms into my eye sockets as Ophelia left me alone. Drowning under the weight and abundance of my wretched thoughts, I struggled to breathe. Ophelia was planning to kill Aleksander— great, good, I got behind that.

  But me—distracting Erik Avernisk? I’d never met the man, but I knew he’d been involved in the plot to kill Igra and Aleksander’s father some years ago. I knew there had to be a reason Aleksander kept him around, and it wasn’t a good one.

  “Oh…” My whimper echoed in the room sharply, and I flung my arms out to gaze blearily at the ceiling. The pattern above blurred as huge tears welled in my eyes. “I can’t do this.”

  A soft knock made me jump a bit and I lifted my head as Igra slipped into my bedroom. Rolling onto my side, I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath. A dense lump form in my throat, and it only grew in size when he sat down to rub my back.

  “I’ll come for you, Yelene.”

  Of course, Igra knows. The bitterness brought by his heavy promise was astonishingly thick. A maelstrom of emotion bombarded my ribs and shriveled my lungs, and I sat up with a harsh sniffle. My limbs were sluggish, my head heavy as I managed a shallow wheeze. “Y-you know—I’ve had enough of men…”

  Sympathy flooded Igra’s gaze.

  I frowned a deep, hard frown that strained the muscles in my neck. “I’m tired of being the last to know. I just want it to end—so, I’ll do my part, and—and then I’m done. I’m done being Ophelia’s friend. I’m done being married to you. I’m going to save my parents, and I never want to see any of you ever again.” My words sounded so juvenile. This I knew but I couldn’t help it.

  Igra didn’t seem to be offended at all, as he gingerly took my hand in both of his. His palms were big and warm, and his fingers were calloused and strong. “If that’s what you want, Yelene.”

  In just a few days, Aleksander would be dead, and I would be free. Fat tears dislodged from my eyelashes at the notion.

  Igra released my hand to hold my face. Wiping away my tears with his thumbs, his brows furrowed through my watery gaze. “Don’t cry, malen’kaya ptitsa.”

  “I want my dad—you’re not good enough.” My voice crackled harshly.

  Igra pulled me into his lap. Holding my head firmly, he wrapped his other arm around me to pin my arms.

  In this safe place, my emotions flooded from my eyes and nose, as I buried my face in his shirt. Soft, choking cries wrenched from beyond the knot in my throat, and sobs raked down my spine and tightened my abdomen.

  “Soon, you’ll be with them. Of that, I have little doubt.”

  I cried quietly under the enormity of it all, but Igra’s words eased some of the tension strangling my body.

  “I know how difficult it is to want to protect someone, even if you can’t be with that person. There have been many times in my life when things felt overwhelming, but it does get better. Yelene. I promise.”

  “Who?” Leaning back a little, Igra’s low hum reverberated through my fog of fear. Closing my eyes, I sniffled harshly through the emotion clogged my nose.

  “A long time ago, I was given a choice that I didn’t have any say in, either. I spent some time agonizing before deciding what to do, but I feel, in hindsight, I made the right choice. Whenever I see her, I’m reminded of how truly horrific her life could’ve turned out if I had decided differently. She’s a beautiful, pure person, and it would’ve been a loss for the world if Aleksander had destroyed her. We probably won’t be together, but that’s okay.”

  “S-she’s lucky—the angels abandoned me a long time ago, it feels. . .”

  Igra’s cheek twitched against my crown and he squeezed me gingerly.

  I hiccupped a rasping sigh. “What if I can’t do what Ophelia needs me to do?”

  “I think you’re much stronger than you think, Yelene.” Tangling our fingers, Igra kissed my crown as he held out my arms loosely. “Every bird must be kicked from her nest to learn to fly. Hold tight to that feeling of desperation because it’s all that can help you, malen’kaya ptitsa.”

  7

  Yelene

  “Is it supposed to feel like this?” Finally, the snow had stopped sheeting down, and the night sky looked orange when I glanced out the window. “I could like being a snow bird right now.”

  “You’d be a cute snow bird.” Igra stroked down my back with long sweeps of the backs of his fingers.

  I hummed softly in acknowledgment.

  We took solace in each other, and he pulled back my hair to play with the ends mindlessly. “Time feels longer in the winter. I’m glad I met you now, in this season. When I was in America…no woman came close to making me feel such peace and closeness.”

  “What’s America like?” I lifted my head.

  He inhaled deeply and thoughtfulness painted Igra’s sharp, masculine features. He sort of flopped back, almost childishly threw himself onto my bed.

  Curiosity knit my brows. Shuffling to straddle his waist, I braced my palms on his hard chest before dark eyes met mine. “I know you didn’t want to be there…”

  “I didn’t, no. I felt helpless and lonely, knowing that when I came back, Aleksander would try to get rid of me. It’s a strange feeling, knowing my brother wanted me dead for no other reason than his own insecurity. Now, the coin has flipped, and I’m the one that’s going to kill Aleksander. I was sent to America as a setup, and it hurts—the betrayal. That Aleksander would put so much effort into trying to get rid of me…” He trailed off, lifting a hand to caress my arm as his own curled under his head. “This is the game and sometimes, there is no clear winner.”

  “Is that why you had to be smuggled back in? I thought you left because Aleksander was trying to kill you.” Ophelia complaining about it rang in my ears lightly.

  Igra frowned as he shook his head. “That’s the official story, but I didn’t find out about my brother’s plan until after I’d already arrived in America. I’m not sure how it morphed into that, but I never disagreed with it.” Igra didn’t seem too concerned with his own story, and I gnawed on my bottom lip as he cast a quizzical glance at me. “Have you ever considered going to America? I think it’d be fun if I had not been under such obligations with Carlyle Santino. He’s quite terrifying, but he has his moments of some normality.”

  “He’s scarier than Aleksander. You’re not the first person I’ve heard say that, but Ophelia and even Sascha
said it’s hard to believe until you experience it yourself.” I leaned down to get close to his face, until the gold flecks in his eyes were visible, and his brows rose higher. Interest sparked in my chest and I licked my lips in preparation. “What’s America like?”

  “We’re in a very compromising position, Yelene.”

  My eyes widened in surprise when Igra’s warm breath rolled down my neck. Sitting up stiffly, I blinked as my brain rattled in my skull and made it hard to think.

  His lips quirked up briefly, and he folded his other arm under his head as the silence stretched on into discomfort. “America is—different. Everything is just very—opulent, and that’s saying something considering how I live. Their standards are much higher—to say I was shocked at what I experiences isn’t right, but it definitely left a strong impression.”

  “Opulent? How?” The slight tension in the air slithered away as I greedily latched onto the new topic Igra had graciously given me.

  He sighed heavily. His muscles rippled underneath me. “I don’t really know how to explain it, but lifestyles like Ophelia’s are not uncommon, apparently. In America, you don’t have to be obscenely rich to have a good life. You don’t have threats looming over you. Most Americans seem to go on without ever knowing the darker side of life. I have to admit, I was a bit jealous when I first arrived. Being there made me wonder about a life out from Aleksander’s dark shadow. If that’s what it’s like, it made this decision I face now less daunting.”

  “T-that sounds really nice.” A life out from Aleksander’s shadow—“That sounds really nice.” Mumbling almost to myself, I tore my eyes off Igra’s face to scan his chest under his t-shirt. The faint outline of his definition sharpened as he reached to cup my chin, and heat crept up my neck at his touch. “When I’m with my parents again, do you think America would be a good place to vacation?”

  “I think it’d be a wonderful place to vacation. I don’t think I, personally, would live there, though. For me, there will always be a shadow over me.”

  Smiling slightly, my chest warmed at his assurance.

  Igra stroked my chin with his thumb gently. “You really are like a little bird. Do you enjoy sitting on me?”

  “O-oh—sorry, I—”

  Igra’s fingers left my chin, gripping my thigh firmly when I tried to climb off him.

  I tensed. Warm palms closed around my hips and he gingerly pushed back. The thin fabric of my shorts rubbed against my folds.

  His eyes caught mine like a fly in a trap. His gaze dug violently, searchingly.

  I fisted his shirt as heat coiled in my abdomen. The silence rang in my ears.

  Suddenly, he sat up in one fluid motion, his face so close to mine the bridge of my nose prickled wildly. “If things don’t go to plan—we’re both going to die. You realize that, right, malen’kaya ptitsa?” Seriousness and something else, something darker, graveled his tone.

  I bit my bottom lip hard. My mouth dried even as I nodded, shying away from the thought that he’d fail.

  Igra’s eyes hardened under brows knit in consternation. “Answer my other question.”

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out while blinking hard.

  Igra tilted his head back as if my lack of an answer was answer enough. He shook his head with a little chuff, “It’s not the best idea given the circumstances.”

  Flying to his wrists, I held his hands on my hips.

  Surprise flashed in his eyes. “Yelene—don’t. We can get this marriage annulled when Aleksander is dead, and you said that was what you wanted. Don’t throw that away because you’re lonely.”

  “We can?” Surprise cracked my voice, and my heart leaped into my throat when Igra nodded firmly. The atmosphere of the snow, the heat between us, and my own roiling sense of being trampled cleared from my mind. Releasing his wrists, I stood up to cross my arms tightly over my chest as the room sharpened to crystal clarity. Gulping down the tightness in my throat when Igra stood up to tower over me, I trained my eyes on my bare feet digging into the carpet.

  “You’re a good girl, malen’kaya ptitsa, and you don’t deserve anything that’s going to happen next week.” Cupping the back of my head, Igra kissed my crown tenderly and squeezed the back of my neck to ease the tension thrumming through me. “Don’t make the mistake I did by resigning yourself to this life.”

  Holding my breath as Igra shuffled out of my room, I squeezed my eyes shut when the door closed softly. The click echoed, bouncing off the shadows in the corners, and my mind struggled to catch up to what just happened. What’s wrong with me?

  Igra drew me in like a moth to a flame, and I couldn’t recognize it happening, let alone stop it. In this vast, cold, white expanse, he was warmth and gentleness in the harshness of a blizzard that was slowly rolling over me. My lips twisted into an ugly frown. I shivered as goosebumps blanketed my back and down my arms.

  It’d been so long since any man got close to me that I just—latched onto him, like a baby duck imprinting on a bear. I couldn’t take the chance and risk my parents’ lives by sneaking around with someone. By Aleksander’s order, I was married to Igra. I was only allowed to be with Igra, and we’d never said more than four words to each other before he showed up here.

  But he’s not at all what I expected. Exhaling a shaky, hot breath, I inhaled sharply through my nose and shook my head wildly. Hair whipped my face and I swept it back roughly. “I don’t know what’s going on now.” Rubbing my face with both my palms, incredibly tiredness weighed down my arms.

  Walking with heavy steps to my bed, I crawled under the covers to stare at the ceiling blearily. My mind didn’t slow down and Igra’s face when America was brought up flashed in my inner eye. He went through all those terrible emotions, but he still managed to find the positive.

  For some reason, I always imagined Igra would be like Aleksander— intimidating and scary, heartless and cruel just because he could be. But Igra was Aleksander’s polar opposite, it seemed. And that’s why I’m having such a hard time. Reconciling my image of Igra with who he is, realistically made me confused and he was so easy to go to.

  “Maybe, it’s all a lie and I’m being stupid.” Igra needed me to play my part in his plan to kill Aleksander, after all. An ache pounded against my temple as my thoughts became louder, drowning out the sound of my voice. Rolling onto my side, I covered my head and scrunched up my face against the sharp pain. “Ugh.”

  8

  Igra

  Rolling around restlessly in bed, I sat up to rake my hands through my hair to pull the strands tight with my fists. Irritation tightened my body and every time I blinked, all I could see was Yelene’s expression. The way her eyes glistened with need, her lips parted, her cheeks tinged pink. My cock throbbed almost painfully and I scooted to the end of my bed to stand.

  She was a distraction— something to focus on other than the fact that I was going to kill my brother, just thirty-six hours from now. I did not feel so strongly for her, and I knew it was my own mind playing tricks on me. No matter how cute she was, how good she felt perched on my abdomen—the pleasure that rippled across her birdlike features when I—

  “Fuck.” Slurring gutturally, my lip curled in a snarl as I left my room with as quiet steps as I could manage. Yelene and I had avoided each other since that moment in her room, and my palms tingled with the phantom sensation of her smooth, soft skin. The only thoughts that raced through my head were of her and sweat coated my skin in thick, dribbling layers.

  Why couldn’t I just think of Aleksander? Because he’s my brother, and deep down, I don’t want to kill him.

  Restlessness pulled my muscles taut like rubber bands, so much tension in me that my very bones ached. Grinding my teeth as I walked to the kitchen, I clenched and released my fists then flexed my feet. My subconscious was against me, and hot, hard breaths created white puffs in the cool air of the unused side of the house.

  A faint, yellow glow from the kitchen illuminated the hallway and I turned
the corner to stop short. My heart pounded hard, blood drumming in my ears, and my eyes narrowed on Yelene’s troubled expression. She looked so soft and angelic, staring through the top of the island, and I bit my inner cheek hard. Clearing my throat quietly, I held my breath when she jumped a little, twisting to catch sight of me from her perch on her stool.

  “Oh—Igra. I couldn’t—sleep.” Faltering slightly, Yelene’s big, brown eyes widened as they scanned me.

  I acutely felt her gaze on my cock.

  She blushed deeply in the golden light, training her eyes back on the small tiles decorating the island.

  My cock twitched against my shorts, and I exhaled heavy through my nose before walking over to her. “Are you scared?” Roughness permeated my tone, there was simply no hiding it. I leaned on my forearms on the island across from her. “I can’t sleep, either.”

  Yelene only nodded, her troubled look returning to drain the fluster from her cheeks. “Erik worries me—what if I can’t keep him occupied long enough?”

  “I think it’s more likely you’ll have trouble keeping him off you. In my experience, Erik will try to fuck anything with a pulse and a pussy. Have you ever met him?”

  Alarm flashed in her eyes.

  I grimaced as her troubled expression deepened. “I don’t think keeping him occupied will be the problem. The exact opposite, actually. He’s a whore and no woman should be left alone with him unless she wants to be used that way.”

  “Ophelia didn’t tell me anything about him…”

  Instinct gripped my spine in a vice to grab her at her uneasy declaration and I clasped my hands tightly. Yelene was quiet and fragile… there was nothing wrong with wanting peace and stability. But—

  “I don’t know if I can do this, Igra.”

  “No one ever knows what they’re capable of until they’re forced to endure it, malen’kaya ptitsa. You’re going to have to entertain Erik like your life depends on it, because it does. I’m going to have to kill my brother before he kills me.”