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Chapter 3 - Zeke
Zeke tugged on the sleeve of his tux, trying to keep his body temperature from going wild, heart-pounding heavily in his chest. Was this the right choice? He concluded, given that he was standing in the middle of a bonding circle, that it was too late to go back now. The circle was created by everyone he knew and cared about, creating five rings where the one closest to him was made up of his family and the family of his prospected mate. He kept his gaze away from Pietr Aslanov, worried that all he’d see on the other man’s face was condemnation. They’d had a long talk before Zeke left for medical school, Pietr no more approving of the choice than Semyon had been. Zeke reminded himself that, whatever lay in their past, this wasn’t personal—it was business.
He still didn’t know which sister was to be his.
The tux jacket was dark purple, the pants were black, his shoes black. Traditional, somber, earnest. And yet he felt he was standing in the middle of the biggest lie he’d ever committed, making a promise to tie himself for life to a perfect stranger, without the usual build-up. Where was the tradition there? A couple was meant to have a month of dinners together with their families, where they got to see each other, to speak to one another, to form that bond everyone was harping on about.
For most couples, this was no more than adherence to how these things were meant to be done, as their families were supposed to be invited in to bear witness to their bond forming, even when the couple might have dated and even lived together for years. For some, the marriage had been arranged and the traditional month was a courtesy since the mating bond was unbreakable once formed.
This was rushed. All of it was happening too fast. He should have insisted he wanted more time. He should have pushed for that month.
His palms were clammy, and he tugged at the neckline of his black shirt, thinking it felt too tight. His eyes met his mother’s, and Nadya Kumarinova gave him an encouraging smile. She was the one person he could never hide anything from, he knew she could see right through his straight back and docile expression to the thunder and lightning surrounding his heart.
This was a mistake.
He tried to return her smile but couldn’t quite bring himself there.
The large ballroom of the Aslanovs’ mansion was the perfect setting. Candles were burning creating a warm backdrop. The walls and ceiling were all paneled in beautiful artwork and intricate wood carvings, the floor made up of slabs of colored marble. The opulence made him feel uncomfortable, wondering where the money that had bought it had flowed from. Thinking how ironic it was that he was sealing his fate with his feet planted on such a symbol of power: colored marble had been favored by the Roman emperors. By Nero himself.
Music started playing. He finally looked at Pietr Aslanov, whose eyes were focused on the path created to let through whoever was about to join Zeke in the middle of the circle.
And there she was, veiled so thickly that Zeke couldn’t make out her face. She was attractive, shapely in her purple ceremony dress, but each Aslanov sister would cut the same figure. Who was it?
He’d played chess with the eldest sister Nina when they were both seventeen. She’d been fierce and commandeering and very much her father’s daughter. He’d driven the middle-sister Anna home from school for six months or so. He had done it to see if he could get into Pietr’s good graces, find a way to mend the tear between their fathers. She had developed a very obvious crush on him, which had been sweet at the time, but he hadn’t wanted to get tangled up. No matter how tempting it might have been. If he’d seduced her, he’d known he would have lost both legs to Pietr’s fury, so that had also been a factor in why he’d kept his hands to himself.
He was sure it wouldn’t be Anna.
It would be Nina.
Because it made the most sense for Pietr to bind his eldest, especially since she was pushing thirty and should have been bound to a mate already.
There was no way it was Anna.
Did he want it to be Anna?
He swallowed against his dry throat; eyes fixed on the veiled woman next to him.
The veil was a symbol for how she entered the circle with her past clouding her present, and once he lifted the veil, they would both be looking at their future.
He thought it was the sappiest tradition of all, but everyone was deeply invested in the statement it made. He could tell they were all holding their breath and found himself doing the same. This was his future. Right here. He could turn and walk away. The city, its people, they didn’t have to be his responsibility. None of this was on him, his father’s choices weren’t his choices, and if Semyon decided to condemn his one daughter to a miserable life, that wasn’t on Zeke either.
Except it was.
Zeke let out his held breath, seeking the hidden eyes behind the veil without any luck, and deciding. Grasping the edge of the veil he lifted it in one sweeping motion, resting his gaze in the widened eyes of Anna Aslanova.
His heart leaped despite himself, despite him not wanting this, despite him cursing the circumstances that had brought them both here.
A smile spread across his face as the relief flooded him.
Nina wouldn’t have been a good fit for him, he’d come to that conclusion after spending last night ruminating on which of the sisters it would be, but Anna was much more like him and had a sweetness to her disposition that had always been easy to appreciate. He reached for her hands, he was meant to hold them in his throughout the ceremony, and the warmth of them heated his skin. She was as nervous as he was. It made his smile widen.
She returned it, though hers was more restrained. Was she having second thoughts? Then he realized that this might be an arrangement for her as well. Had she not been told who would be waiting for her in the circle? Would she have chosen differently if she’d known? It had been so long since they saw each other. He had no idea who she was now. They were strangers to each other.
He squeezed her fingers, hoping to offer comfort, but she stiffened. Her eyes moved out of his, fixing themselves in a sideways glance to the floor.
He wasn’t okay with that.
He let one of her hands go, placing his fingers under her chin, gently lifting it until her gaze met his again. He leaned in slightly, her eyes widening again, but he wasn’t angling for a kiss. Instead, he said, voice lowered, “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
