Beastly Passions (26 page)

He only smirked. “Because you and he are far more alike than anyone would assume. I see this now. Difference is, you seem to have handle on rage…for the most part.”

She grimaced. “I never intended to stab my brother.”

But it had transpired. And she couldn’t pretend otherwise. Asha had searched herself for some form of remorse, regret, but came away with absolutely nothing aside from resolve. To know how far her father had been willing to go, to see that trading her wasn’t enough, left her hollow of any fondness she’d once had. A line had been crossed and pissed on. What more did they want? What more could they possibly need? All regard for her life has been abandoned in this twisted reach for power that wasn’t even necessary to live out his days comfortably. To risk her life—
Taras’
life—by aligning himself with men that would set fire to all those around them in order to rule, was a reprehensible and unforgivable offense. If Grigoriy truly did have him as a captive now, it was no less than he deserved. If and when she chose to put in the effort to find and free him, it would be for the sake of unchaining herself from the taint of his deception alone. Asha wanted to be liberated from the bitterness his name caused when she spoke it. He would get no more feeling from her.
None
of them would.

“What did you think would happen when you jammed sharp object into his thighs? That he would giggle like small child receiving treats?”

Staring off, she answered, “I wanted to do more than that. I wanted to leave a scar. Karan has none. He hasn’t had to fight the way Taras has.”

“You fear that he’ll never know peace,” he voiced.

“At times? Yes. When I twisted that knife—”

“Something I found rather entertaining, by the way.”

“—I unleashed something. Something vindictive and angry. Something that I’ve never faced down before because I’ve never had to. I glimpsed for a moment what it was like to be Taras, what it was like to be so…enraged and bitter that you’re numb with it.”
She pushed her hair back from where it swung in her face. “How can you find peace in that? How do you live with such anger every day? How does he still manage to be so resilient?”

“You thought him to be a cruel and unusual tyrant before, correct?” Alexei prodded. At her nod, he said, “Most either over or underestimate him. The perception of who he is has been distorted and corrupted. Even in his own eyes. But I have watched him with you. I have seen the transformation in words and demeanor,” the tiger went on. “But under harshness is a calm that balances him. That calm lies with
you.”

She considered those words momentarily. “I don’t know how to heal him, I’ve no idea where to start. When he talks to me about the things that he’s seen and done, it’s as if the words are being hammered from him.”

Her blunder from hours ago still speared her. She’d hurt him. Unintentionally, of course, but it had still taken place.
 

Alexei rested his elbows on his knees. “He does not trust this information in the hands of others because his emotions have been weaponized. Rage is all he allows aside from occasional lightheartedness. Rage is who he has become because rage keeps others at a distance. He is capable of being even meaner with you at his side now.”

Asha closed her eyes at the revelation. “I don’t wish to make him that way.”

“You see this as a bad thing when it is good, because within that is caring. He is mean with purpose now.”

For some reason, this made her laugh. “And he wasn’t before?”

“No,” he rejoined simply. “It was at aimless whims of his father. And once he defied that, once he chose to stand against it, he was made to stretch between choosing the safety and happiness of pride and choosing safety and happiness of himself.”

That sounded vaguely familiar.

“Do you know what Verochka family creed once was?” Alexei queried.

She shook her head.

“Pride is all. Power is all. My life is not my own. It belongs to my brothers as theirs belong to me.”

The sentiment was the same as the one the Shankurs had instilled so many years ago.

“He is an embodiment of that,” he continued. Alexei placed a hand to his chest. “I am the brother of a man who Grigoriy ordered beat to death in front of my very eyes. Taras was who saved me from the same fate. Mischa is girl with no family to call her own. All she knows of her origin is that her father was a thief and her mother was an addict who left her in gutters of the city. Taras, usually incapable of any social normalcy, sat and ate with her on a curb every day until she agreed to come and join us. This was
after
he nearly carved out a man’s chest cavity for attempting to kill her because she’d swindled him on a deal and stole some of what he had from his bank accounts in order to feed herself. Magdalena. Sophia. Joshua. Mikhail. Anthony. Olivia. Galina. Each and every one of us have story. Each of us knows what it is to have nowhere else to turn to aside from the instincts that have kept us breathing all of these years.” Alexei picked up Asha’s left hand and tapped her ring. “Instinct and this do not coincide, Asha. You know this as well as I do. Rings mean nothing. Licenses mean nothing. Marriage and titles means nothing in our world. Because it is a contract that can be broken or disputed. You want him unafraid and at peace? Make him yours.” He squeezed her hand gently. “
You cannot strip beast away from him, it is all he has ever known. But you can give him more. You can show him this is not all that he has to be while making sure he knows it is okay if that is a great deal of what he has to offer.”

***

If he
were being honest with himself, he could admit that his mission had been little more than an excuse to flee his home.
Like a startled cub. It was embarrassing, and degrading and 
completely necessary! 
Asha had jabbed a knife into old gashes and twisted. And no, he didn’t consider that melodramatic in the least bit. His wife had been given many gifts and intuitiveness was apparently one of them. It was perturbing and he didn’t find the least bit of comfort in that part of her nature. Because where could he hide now? How would he keep those ridiculous trite fantasies of happiness away? He wouldn’t be able to. Asha would drain Taras dry of all the steely resolve he’d developed over the years and he had absolutely no one to blame but himself because he’d opened this door. Worst yet, even with all his fears pouring out of the proverbial lash she’d leveled at him, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to 
close 
said door.

It was what she’d said, and the expression on her face as she’d said it.

“It frightens you, doesn’t it? Being open with others? It’s why you tell me to look no deeper in one breath but can’t seem to stop yourself from asking me to in the next.”

He had absolutely no interest in becoming a pet project of pity for her. Or as she liked to put it “empathy.” However, hemorrhaging those things before her, spilling those vulnerable thoughts had been…soothing. Instead of the typical rage or numbness, Taras had felt something aside from the coolness he’d carried all of these years. He’d felt safe. There. In that space with just her listening, he’d felt safe. And that was terrifying. Because what happened when she decided to weaponize his inner most secrets? What happened when she realized he was not to be saved or healed but left to the destructive attributes he’d gained over time? There were so many questions and nearly not enough answers. But he could do nothing now when he’d chosen purposely to separate himself from her and their home. She was too close and he’d needed to breathe. Pathetic. He was incredibly pathetic for not being able to stand in the face of her criticisms—her 
analyzing—
and dismiss it as easily as he dismissed everything else.

Do you really think that would have worked? She knows you now. She 
sees 
you.

Yes, she did, didn’t she? Therein lay the problem. Taras didn’t express himself. He kept his heart off his sleeve and rarely allowed anything aside from indifference or anger to rule his thought process. It obviously wouldn’t work where his wife was concerned. Not in the same way it had worked in past relationships that paled in comparison to the small joys this one brought him.

He wanted far much more from her. And after today, he’d gained the startling optimism that perhaps she did too, even with her reaction to almost marking him.

“Were you able to find, Matveev?”

Taras stopped in the middle of his trek towards the stairs and turned to face Alexei. “No, he has cleared out. All safe houses and properties are clean of any sign that he was ever there.”

“And the print shops?”

“Closed. Every last one is closed. I searched Grigoriy’s properties also and he has been just as thorough.”

Alexei cursed lowly. “So then we have a definite confirmation that they are together.”

“Either this or hiding in separate places while communicating closely,” Taras countered; weary from the hours he and his pride mates had spent ransacking the region.

“Where would you like to search now?”

“I am unsure,” he sighed. “In some ways we are still leagues ahead of Grigoriy and in others we are steps behind. I know he will not kill Nirav until he has what he wants so this gives us a bit of an advantage. However, I am concerned that in this, he has covered his tracks adequately.”

“Your father is impulsive and hateful. No matter what actions he has taken, he will
never
be good enough to dance around the issues he has created for himself.” Alexei stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Mischa and I spent time scoping out the accounts. We found more than enough to lead us to the parent companies. The money is offshore in the Cayman Islands and Swiss banks. Because they are in your name, you have the power to walk into each establishment, close the accounts and withdraw all the funds. You then return the money he took from investors, with interest, and this will keep you out of jeopardy in that regard.”

Taras nodded. “Get me the locations and account numbers? I will then make it a point to do as you’ve said. But only after Grigoriy has been dealt with.”

“Which will be how?” the other man asked in a mild tone.

“I do not have a clear answer for this, Alexei. I only know that I have spent my life being moved across chessboard after chessboard due to his hand. I want that hand removed.”

His friend nodded. “So this is what we will do.” He then motioned towards the stairs. “In the meantime, I think it is your wife that you should turn your attention to.”

Frowning, Taras took a glance at a nearby clock. “It is almost four in the morning, if she
was
waiting up for me, I highly doubt she is still doing so now.”

Alexei only smirked.

“What is it that you are not telling me?” He looked to the stairs and back. “Because no woman willingly waits up to this hour unless it is to do physical harm.”

The other man only lifted his hands in surrender and began to back away.

“Alexei?”

He disappeared and the only response Taras received was the ominous echo of laughter.

“Bastard,” he muttered, climbing the stairs towards their wing of the house, as quietly as he could possibly be to avoid disturbing her. Because Alexei
had
to be wrong. As he passed her door, stopping briefly to press a hand against it as though he could somehow miraculously reach her, Taras decided that he would speak with her in the morning.

He continued on and had just thrown open his own door when her scent hit him squarely in the solar plexus. It was all over, and the source? Perched in a chair by the window—which was open and bleeding in cool air.

“Ah, he returns to me at last,” Asha said softly.

He walked in a few more steps and closed the door behind himself while locking it. “I thought you would be asleep by now,” he told her once he’d finally found his voice.

“I’m sure you did. Which is why you chose almost,”—she leaned forward to glance at the clock on night stand—“four in the morning to come home.”

He opened his mouth.

“You missed dinner,” his wife announced, promptly cutting him off. 

“Sadly I was kept away because of my search.”

“Worry not, Mischa and Alexei kept me company. Luckily for me they are…interesting.”

He felt a smile coming forth. “Strange is word you are looking for, I think.”

“Them? Strange? No.” Asha shook her head. “Eclectic? Yes. I find
you 
strange.”

Taras swallowed and scratched just over his scarred brow. “My behavior earlier was a bit…out of character.”

“Actually no, it wasn’t,” she amended. “You’re an abrupt man. You often times move without evaluating the benefits of remaining still so I wasn’t particularly shocked, amazingly enough.”

He narrowed his eyes on her. “You are saying much and nothing at all.”

Asha drew her bare legs up to her chest and rested her chin atop her knees. “I know.”

“Would you like to stop this and talk to me directly? Bluntly as you always do?”