Raze (Scarred Souls #1)

by Tillie Cole

  Luka stilled for a moment. Then I felt a decade’s worth of pain and loss flee his body. “You can have me, solnyshko. You can have all of me. You always have, and you always will.”

  Epilogue

  Six months later …

  “Lyubov moya…” I moaned as Luka moved within me. I raked at his strong back, my head tilted as he kissed and nipped at my throat.

  “Solnyshko,” Luka groaned, his hips picking up speed, his cock like steel, swelling within me the closer we came to release.

  Our breathing came quick, and my hands moved to fist his hair. Luka stretched out his arms and gripped the iron of the headboard, thrusting powerfully inside me, making me lose control.

  “Baby!” I cried, feeling my orgasm approach, clenching my legs around his waist. Luka’s head lifted to press his mouth to mine. Our tongues instantly clashed, wild and erratic.

  “Kisa … Kisa…” Luka roared, breaking from my lips as his neck tensed, his muscles cording as he came, taking me over the edge with him.

  Luka jerked inside me, then collapsed on my chest, his skin damp from hours and hours of lovemaking.

  Yesterday we got married.

  Finally. In our childhood church, by Father Kruschev.

  I was officially Luka’s wife, and there was no one happier on Earth than I was right now, right at this second.

  I ran my hand through Luka’s blond messy hair as he caught his breath. Lifting his head, Luka pressed a long, lazy kiss to my lips and said, “I love you, solnyshko.”

  Running my finger down his cheek, I replied, “I love you too.”

  Smiling shyly, Luka, after six months of never spending a day apart, still found his freedom impossible to get used to and he felt undeserving of my unconditional love for him.

  Memories of his past in the Gulag gave him nightmares and he would wake up in cold sweats, the faces of the hundreds of men and boys he was forced to kill haunting his sleep. The nightmares got so bad, Luka refused to sleep those first nights. I couldn’t stand seeing it, so I defied my papa and ignored orthodox tradition. The very next night I slept next to Luka in his childhood bed, and he never woke up once.

  He needed me to sleep.

  I kept his nightmares away.

  We’d never spent a day apart since.

  Moving his face to mine again, I ensured our eyes met and said, “I have always and will always love you, all my life.”

  Luka awarded me with a blinding smile and kissed down my neck, down my chest, and down to my belly, where he peppered me with kisses.

  Glancing up at me with hope in his eyes, he asked, “You think you’re pregnant yet?”

  Laughing, I held on to his arms and pulled him back up over me. “We got married yesterday, Luka.”

  His face fell into a serious expression. “I want a child with you.”

  “I know you do, lyubov moya. And it’ll happen. Nothing will take me away from you again.” I ran my finger over his wedding ring. “We’re married now. Together forever, remember?”

  He exhaled through his nose and nodded, slumping beside me, and laid his head over my naked chest. He nuzzled his head into my breast, and I smiled, knowing what that small action meant.

  I began running my fingers through Luka’s messy sandy hair, loving the feel of his arms tightening around mine. He loved me stroking at his hair. Said it made him feel like the last twelve years had never happened.

  It broke my heart because he wasn’t the Luka from our childhood.

  He was damaged.

  Jaded.

  Tormented by his past.

  Permanently changed … but he was the man I loved now, the man who was always my protector. Now he was even more so. And although life was hard for him now, with me, he was at peace.

  We were each other’s peace.

  “Read to me,” Luka murmured, completely relaxed in my arms. Smiling, I reached out for our favorite old book that was worn and aged through years of overuse. I had never thrown it away.

  Maybe I always knew I would need it again someday.

  “You ready, lyubov moya?” I asked.

  “Mmm…” he murmured in reply. “Read to me.” He reached up and held my free hand in his.

  I smiled.

  I was so unbelievably happy as we laid here in our new bed in our new home, our new brownstone, three doors down from his parents’ home.

  “They were always meant to be together, one boy and one girl, two hearts split into two, sent to far-off lands on their own. For God wanted to see if true love could be tested. He wanted to see if two halves of one soul could find each other again, even against the odds. Years would pass. They would both be hurt. They would both be sad, but one day, when they least expected it, they would stumble into each other’s paths. The question is: would they recognize each other’s soul? And would they find their way back to love…?”

  Looking down at Luka, his eyes closing as he traced his finger over my belly, a small contented smile on his lips, I knew he was praying I was pregnant.

  I was too.

  “You recognized mine,” he murmured sleepily, slowly opening his eyes. I stopped reading and lowered the book. “You recognized my soul when I was lost.”

  Tears building, I replied, “I did, baby.”

  “And you brought me back to you,” he finished and pressed a kiss to my stomach.

  I shook my head. “Now that’s where you’re wrong.”

  Luka raised his head, tilted it to the side, and pursed his lips in confusion. My heart flipped at the action, and, releasing his hand, I stroked my thumb along his stubbled cheeks. Taking his hand again, I pressed it against my heart.

  “I couldn’t bring you back because you never ever left. Not in here.” I patted my chest where my heart was.

  Luka smiled and laid his head back down. Closing his eyes, he picked up my hand and placed it back in his hair, nudging me to stroke him again.

  My heart melted as my fingers began to move back and forth through the silky blond strands. I picked up the book and started where I left off …

  “Their love story began on the day she was born…”

  RAZE

  Bonus Scene

  Luka and Kisa’s Wedding

  Kisa

  It wasn’t like I’d always dreamed it would be. It wasn’t the picturesque fairytale wedding I’d pictured as a child … but that didn’t make it any less perfect.

  My wedding. The day I’d been waiting for all my life. The day I showed devotion to my soul mate … the man I was destined to love for eternity, in front of God and our families.

  My heart fluttered, and butterflies danced in my stomach with the surreal acknowledgement that today I become Mrs. Tolstoi.

  Mrs. Luka Tolstoi …

  As I closed my eyes and savored that sound in my head, a slow smile spread on my lips. Taking my one true love’s name was my ultimate wish, a name I would forever wear with pride.…

  Kisa-Anna Tolstoi …

  I knew that for most, personal ambitions were filled with quests for success in their chosen fields of work, with striving to become a “someone” in this world, achieving that “something” that cemented them in the history books forever as a legend. But for me, I had only ever had one goal, one wish that I prayed would manifest into reality. That I would marry the boy who had stolen my heart from birth. The man that I’d thought I’d lost for twelve years, grieved for in every waking hour and accepted I had lost forever, only to have him thrust back into my life like a thunderstorm, his presence and fire bringing with him an awakening, rescuing me from the suffocating darkness my world had become.

  He was it for me … lyubov moya… my love.

  Wiping away a stray tear that had escaped my eye, I stared at my reflection, and had to take a slow and controlled deep breath. My hands were subtly shaking as they lay by my side, my blue eyes were glittering brightly under the soft swoop of brown eye shadow and the gentle dusting of black mascara.

  It was happening.
/>   It was all really happening … my wish fulfilled.…

  I was dressed in a white fitted lace slim-line Vera Wang gown my father had had custom-made—only the best for the only child of the New York City Russian Bratva Pakhan. My long brown hair was swept up in a low bun, a diamond-encrusted Tiffany’s hair ornament—another gift from my father—curling delicately around my up-do.

  I looked every inch the perfect Bratva Princess.

  A double knock rapped on my bedroom door. “Come in,” I shouted, never taking my eyes from my reflection. The door creaked open and heavy assured footsteps approached from behind. My papa came into view, looking so handsome in his black tailored tuxedo, his salt-and-pepper hair pristinely combed back from his stern Eastern European face.

  “Kisa…” my papa murmured as I met his eyes in the mirror’s glass. I watched, frozen in shock, as my emotionally cold and guarded papa’s eyes filled with tears and his voice hitched in his throat. “You look … you look beautiful, Kisa … like an angel.…”

  “Papa,” I whispered, emotion stealing my words and turned to face him. Reaching down, I took his rough hand within mine and lifted my other hand to wipe away the tears tumbling down his cheeks. “I love you, Papa,” I added and his head bowed.

  He inhaled a long breath and his hand squeezed mine tighter. “Your mama … she would have loved to have seen you today … like this … marrying your Luka … finally … after everything you’ve both been through.…”

  My stomach clenched. “Papa…” I cried and wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek to his broad chest. Papa’s hand cupped the back of my head, being careful not to mess up my hair.

  “You’re a good daughter, Kisa,” he rasped out and I cast a watery smile against his black jacket, “A good girl who’s only ever done her duty. Everything I’ve ever asked of you. I … I love you, my girl.” My papa wasn’t good with affection, and I knew it had taken him a great deal to express that sentiment. He was a formidable Pakhan—tough, fair, always intimidating. But I knew I was his weakness, his one area of vulnerability. Even if he never expressed this to me, I knew it to be true.

  “I love you too, Papa … so much…”

  The sound of a throat clearing came from the doorway, breaking this rare and sentimental moment. Pulling back from my father, I looked over his shoulder to see my one bridesmaid, Talia, my best friend and Luka’s only sister, standing in her lilac floor-length bridesmaid dress. Her long blond hair flowed down and cascading over her shoulder. She was smiling as she witnessed me in my father’s embrace and, catching my eye, held up my bridal bouquet.

  My papa, glancing back to see Talia in the doorway, released a soft sigh, leaned down, and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be waiting outside to ride with you to church.” He hesitated long enough to squeeze me tighter one last time, then, adorning his Pakhan mask once more, swiftly exited my bedroom.

  On hearing my bedroom door close, Talia’s lips spread into a wide smile. Carefully placing the bouquets on my bed, she ran at me, crushing me in her arms. “Kisa!” she squealed and pushed me back, her deep brown eyes scanning my body, “You look incredible! So perfect!”

  “Thank you,” I said on a laugh, “you look beautiful, too. Then again, you always do.”

  Talia shook her head, dismissing my comment, and stepped backward. “I can’t believe this day is finally here. You, my best friend, marrying my big brother.…” A soft expression flitted across her face. “You’ll officially become my sister in just over an hour. I’m just so happy I could burst!”

  Smiling wide, my gaze dropped to the soft carpet beneath my feet. But my smile quickly faded as I pictured Luka on his own this morning … without me by his side.

  “How is he? I left this morning before he awoke … I didn’t want him to see me on the morning of our wedding. I wanted to keep some semblance of traditionalism … for my papa’s sake.”

  Talia was silent until I looked up. Her round brown eyes were sympathetic and tense. She shrugged. “He’s holding up. Once we calmed him down after he woke alone without you, he … he’s trying his damnedest to hold it all together until we reach the church and he can be with you again, Kisa.”

  My stomach flipped at her response and my heart began to race. Luka didn’t do well without me by his side, not even for a few hours. He was still confused, tormented and riddled with flashes of fragmented memories from his past … only being with me gave him any rest from the guilt of his many kills. Only I could pacify the ever-present monster inside his head.

  Lifting the hem of my dress, I set to walk toward the door. “Maybe I should go and—”

  Talia stepped forward and gripped my hands, cutting off my sentence. “No.”

  I closed my eyes and sighed. All I could see in my mind’s eye was a frantic Luka, pacing the floor of his childhood bedroom, his fingers gripping his hair, fighting his demons alone … his beautiful face riddled with the pain of his past and his breathing becoming erratic. I couldn’t stand it. “But—”

  “But nothing. Mama and Papa are with him. You’re about to leave for church. He’s safe. You’ll be together again soon.”

  I nodded in defeat and Talia’s tense shoulders relaxed. A gentle hand rubbed at my arm. “This is your special day, Kisa. After today you and Luka are together forever. My brother can cope for another hour before he sees you. He has to learn to bear his past without you being there to soothe him. He has to find his own way eventually. He begins his Pakhan training soon, and you won’t be with him for that. This time apart is a good thing.”

  I didn’t agree with her. Luka and I shared something deeper than anyone could ever understand, but I knew, right now, I didn’t really have a choice. And what our families failed to realize was that it wasn’t just Luka who struggled alone. After thinking I had lost him for over a decade, and being subject to Alik Durov’s severe brutality since I was a teen, being beside my Luka, touching him, joined with him, was the only time I felt truly safe … like I was complete.

  Talia released my hands and walked to my closet, taking the long lace veil that delicately draped over the closet door in her arms. After carefully placing it over my head, Talia stepped back, her bottom lip quivering as she regarded me. “Luka will be floored when you arrive at his side. You’re beyond beautiful.”

  A rush of elation soared through me. “You think so? You think he’ll like how I look?”

  Talia laughed at my question, rolled her eyes and picked up the bouquets. “I know so. You could be wearing a hessian sack and that brother of mine would think you were a heaven-sent vision!” Her eyes glossed over. “The way he looks at you … like nothing else matters to him but you.…” She shook her head and snapped herself around.

  I watched as my best friend, looking so stunning in her fitted gown, got my things together. She was so beautiful, so ready for love …

  Talia, feeling my stare, glanced my way and frowned. “What?”

  “I want for you what I have with Luka,” I looked up at her through my lashes and added, “I don’t want you to be lonely anymore. I want you to be as happy as I am.”

  A flash of pain seemed to cross Talia’s face and she batted her hand in the air. “I’m fine, girl. Plus, I’d have to get out from under the Bratva’s iron fist first. You were lucky you had my brother since birth and he was already a huge part of this life. Where me? How the hell do you find a date in this city when your papa and brother are two of the most feared men in the state and the byki follow you everywhere you go?”

  “He’s out there, you know,” I said, believing my every word. “Your true love, your forever, he’s out there just waiting to be sent to you. God is simply waiting for the right time to push him your way.”

  Talia’s brown eyes glistened at my words, her throat swallowing hard to mask her reaction. Lifting the bridal bouquet of lavender roses and ivory lilies, Talia walked toward me, handing me the delicate spray of flowers. “It’s time to go, Kisa. It’s time for your dre
am to at long last come true.”

  Unable to speak, I nodded my head followed my best friend, my future sister, out to the awaiting town car. The day was bright and the cold air caressed my hot face …

  It was the most perfect of days.

  Luka

  I closed my eyes, breathing through the fucking anxiety pulsing through my body. This church was too big. Too many echoes and noises creaking through the old stone building. Everything was too strange without Kisa-Anna by my side. She anchored me. Made me feel somehow rooted to this strange outside world. A world I still didn’t understand … a world I wasn’t sure I ever would.

  When I woke this morning to find her gone, I couldn’t move from my bed. She’d told me last night she would be leaving early to get ready, but waking on my own had me frozen in fear … transporting me back to the endless cold mornings in the Gulag, to the fucked-up days of my childhood … not knowing if that day would be my last.

  Kisa kept me calm as she slept in my arms, threading her fingers through my hair, kissing along my neck. She kept the demons of the Gulag from getting inside my head. I needed her … I needed her to breathe, to live … to fucking be “Luka,” not 818 … not the death-match fighter … not Raze … but Luka Tolstoi … the heir to the Volkov Bratva … and the other half of Kisa’s soul.

  My parents had tried to keep me from pacing the floor, from breaking into cold sweats … tried to make me sit still, but they couldn’t help.

  I needed Kisa … I fucking needed her beside me.…

  A gentle hand suddenly landed on my shoulder. Ripping away from the surprise touch, my arms flew up, bracing to fight, and I snapped my eyes open. My mama stood behind me, a blank expression on her face and an understanding look in her eyes. “It’s just me, my son,” she said softly. Sucking in a long deep breath, I let the tension leave my shoulders.

  She isn’t a threat … she’s your mama … I told myself over and over again. My eyes darted around the small back room of the church for anyone else, but we were alone.