IRIS
We all head to separate bathrooms—each bedroom has one—because I pointed out that if any of us shower together, things will get hot and heavy again, and even poor Evangeline needs a break. I quickly get dressed, throwing on some super soft cashmere lounge pants and an oversized cotton shirt with a fluffy cardigan. I’ll never not appreciate being able to choose my own clothes, not after Sergi took that choice away from me when he held me captive.
I open the door from the master suite and am hit with the smell of pancakes, which makes my mouth water and my tummy growl.
“Ready, Dorogaia?” Nik asks from where he’s lounging against the wall, one foot up and looking all too handsome in dark suit trousers and a black shirt, sleeves rolled and showcasing all that glorious ink along his forearms. As if his muscles weren’t enough to make me melt.
“Ready, love,” I reply, and his lips twitch into a small smile as he prowls towards me like some kind of jungle beast. My heart kicks up a notch, my breathing quickening as he gets closer.
“What I feel for you, Iris, goes beyond love,” he tells me, coming right into my personal space, his chest brushing my breasts. “Goes beyond the boundaries that this world, this universe, places on us.” His hand comes up to cup my cheek, and I stare into his fathomless eyes. “You are my sun, my moon, the very air that I need to breathe. My home is where you are. My heart beats for you, my body yours completely.”
Tears sting my eyes at his confession, and I take a shuddering inhale as he lowers his head, his lips brushing the softest of kisses onto my lips.
“I want to live for you, Iris. I want to wake up next to you every morning, lie down beside you every night, knowing that I get to do it all again tomorrow.” His words tug at my insides, the dream so vivid that I can almost see it right in front of me. “And so, I will do all I can to make that happen, Moye Solntse.”
He gives me no chance to speak, pressing his lips against mine in a kiss that’s so sweet, the tears fall down my cheeks.
“Breakfast is ready!” Roman yells from the bottom of the stairs, and Nik slowly pulls away, only to rest his forehead against mine.
“We should go down, you need to eat,” he says, and I can only nod past the lump in my throat.
I want the dream he promises so badly it almost hurts, and yet, I’m terrified at the cost we will have to pay to make it a reality.
Taking a deep inhale and shaking away the worry over things that I have no control over, I grasp Nik’s hand and we make our way to the dining table, which sits in front of large glazed doors which look out over the forest that surrounds us.
On the table is the biggest breakfast spread I’ve ever seen in my life. There’s a pot of oatmeal, Russian black bread and various toppings, including butter, jam, and a variety of meats and cheese. There also seems to be pancakes that are golden and smell divine. Plus, there’s juice, tea, and coffee.
“This looks incredible,” I say, sitting down when Nik pulls out a chair for me. He takes the one next to me, the head of the table, while Hunt comes over and sits at the other end. Roman sits next to me, Rowan next to him, and Andrei and Dima take seats across from us, Dima next to Nikolai with Bubby next to Andrei.
“Dima likes to cook,” Andrei tells me, pecking a quick kiss on Dima’s cheek before gripping the plate of pancakes and offering them to me across the table. “You have to try his Syrniki. They are to die for, especially with the blueberry jam.”
I take the plate of golden looking pancakes. They’re thicker than traditional pancakes, smaller too, so more like American biscuits. I take a couple, then pass the plate to Nik, who smiles in thanks. Grabbing the pot of blueberry jam next, I put a dollop on the pancakes and then pick up my fork. Cutting a piece off, I place it in my mouth, and the sweet cheesy goodness just fucking melts on my tongue.
“Fuck, Dima. These are incredible,” I moan around a mouthful, and Roman’s hand lands on my thigh.
“Keep making noises like that, Princess. I dare you,” he rumbles low under his breath, and I look at him, my mouth agape, no doubt showing my half chewed breakfast.
“Roman Kent! You just came twice, spent the better part of the last, lord knows how long, inside me, and you’re threatening to what? Throw me on this table and have your wicked way with me? Again?”
He gives me a smile that I’ve no doubt would make a saint say fuck it.
“As I recall, you had your wicked way with me first,” he teases, and my cheeks flush, remembering the way he looked as he slept and I pressed his length inside me. “And I could spend the rest of my life buried inside you and still want more. I could come inside that sweet fucking cunt over and over again and it wouldn’t be enough.”
“Oh,” I reply weakly, my gaze darting away from him and at the other guys sitting round us. They have matching looks of hunger and agreement on their faces, all except Andrei, Bubby and Dima. Andrei gives me an understanding smile.
“Possessive men, am I right?” he asks, and Dima’s hand is suddenly on his chin, turning his face towards him.
“You wouldn’t have me any other way, shcenok,” Dima growls, holding Andrei’s gaze for a moment before letting his face go.
I laugh at the dazed look on Andrei’s face, recognising it as one I often must have on mine.
“Well, how about we eat and then we can talk about our next steps?” Hunt suggests, and I turn to look at him as he reaches for the coffee jug, pouring himself a mug. “After all, if anyone is punishing brats, it’s me.”
He looks up at me as he says the last part, and a small, desperate whimper falls from my lips, unbidden. Damn him all to hell. He knows that I rather enjoy his brand of punishment. “First order of business. I’m assuming Sergi still believes that Roman is dead. My question is what he thinks you’re doing in Russia, Sweetheart?”
Warmth pools inside my chest at the nickname Hunt has given Nik, my lips tugging up in a smile as I glance at the man in question to see him shiver slightly. Oh, he’s got it bad for Daddy.
“He believes that a rival Bratva group, led by the Volkov’s, is trying to muscle in on our territory, to take over our dealings in St.Petersburg,” Nik states, filling his plate with a selection from the table. “And that I am here to make them see the error of their ways.”
“Won’t he get suspicious when he discovers you’re not in the city?” I ask, taking another bite of pancake as Roman pours me a cup of mint tea, a favourite of mine that Nik must have shared with Dima.
“It’s why I’ll have to head back to the city today, show my face with our contacts and work on some of my own business,” Nik answers, and my chest tightens. He must see the way my face falls, because his eyes soften, his hand reaching out and grasping mine. “I’ll be gone a few days, but then I’ll be back, and Andrei will stay here to monitor Roman and make sure he’s healing as he should.”
“Promise you’ll come back?” I whisper, the question more of a demand. I just want more time with him, more time with them all as we build our family.
“I swear it, Malyshka,” he vows, bringing my hand to his lips and placing a kiss on the back of it. “Three days maximum.”
“And what will we do while you’re away?” Hunt asks, and I tear my gaze away from Nik to look at him. His body is rigid, his brows wrinkled as he stares Nik down. He’s worried. Concerned about Nikolai.
“Rest,” Nik orders, giving my hand a squeeze before releasing it, his gaze fixed on Hunt’s. “And enjoy the calm before the storm, because there is no doubt a storm is coming and we need to all be prepared for it.”
HUNTER
Nik and Dima leave shortly after breakfast, and I fucking hate it. I hate watching him go, not being able to keep him with us and keep him safe. Because now that I know he didn’t kill Roman, some part of me couldn’t believe that he would ever hurt any of us. I know he is a part of this family that we have too.
And I keep my family safe.
You couldn’t keep Iris safe. Or Roman. Or Willow, for that matter…
I growl at the inner fucking bastard that is screaming about all my failures. How I just keep fucking up, keep allowing shit to happen to those that I love.
“Daddy?” Iris’ sweet voice breaks into the spiral which I know is happening, but I’m unable to stop. “Are you okay?”
I tear my gaze away from the driveway that Nik disappeared down, my muscles so tight I can feel a headache blooming. I look at her, at her stunning fucking face, so open and caring, and something inside me just snaps.
“No, I’m not okay,” I croak out, my voice breaking as the lump in my throat grows, the back of my eyes burning.
“Oh, Hunt,” she whispers, stepping into me and wrapping her arms tightly around my torso. “I want to try something, Daddy, that I think will help.”
“Okay,” I murmur, holding onto this thing that is threatening to overwhelm me with everything that I have. I can’t break, can’t allow myself to be weak, because then they’ll all be taken away from me again.
“Julia used this technique to help me connect with my emotions, to help me feel them and let them out,” she tells me, her cheek resting on my chest with her arms banded around me. “Where inside you can you feel it?”
“My chest,” I answer straight away, not having to think about it.
“And is it heavy or light?”
“It’s crushing me, Peaches,” I rasp. The weight is so heavy I’m not sure how I’m still breathing.
“If you gave it a shape, what would it be?” she asks next, and I focus in on the weight, trying to see its edges.
“It’s like smoke, spreading and filling my lungs until I can’t breathe.” That I can answer surprises me, and with each answer, the weight becomes a little less, a bit more manageable.
“And what colour is it?”
“Black.” I don’t even have to think about that. “It’s like all the light in the world has disappeared, like I’m blind.”
“What is it trying to say?” she questions next, her voice soft, safe, and coaxing the answers from me before I even know what they are.
“That I’m not good enough, that I’ll never be good enough to keep you all safe. That I’m a failure, and you will all die because of my failings.” I don’t realise I’m crying until soft fingers brush the tears away from my cheeks.
“That’s your critical inner voice speaking, Hunt, a voice that stems from wounds and past hurts. And it’s not able to see all the facts because it thinks it’s trying to keep you safe,” she tells me gently, stroking the tears from my cheeks that won’t stop fucking falling.
“I failed you by letting Sergi take you. Roman nearly got killed, and he got shot because I couldn’t keep him safe. Even Willow got hurt on my watch. Those are the facts, Peaches,” I say, giving voice to all my failings, and it fucking hurts, like a knife to the chest.
“That’s that critical voice again. What shall we name it? Sergi perhaps? That’s what mine is called, but I don’t mind sharing,” she replies, and a small huff of laughter falls from my lips. “Your compassionate voice, who has more of the facts to hand, might say that you always got us back. That you are able to help those that you love. That it’s not your fault, any of it. That we would all be lost without you. That we think you are more than enough, flaws and all, and that our lives are so much better, so much brighter for you being in them.”
The sound of a wounded animal fills my ears, and it’s with a start that I realise it’s me making that noise. Her words have broken something inside me, something that was suffocating me, and now I can’t hold it back. I curl into her, burying my face in her neck as sobs wrack my body so hard I’m shaking.
Warmth at my back has me crying harder, Roman’s unique peppermint and lavender scent washing over me as he holds me with his good arm.
“We’ve got you, Daddy,” he whispers, his voice thick as he places a kiss on the back of my neck and holds me tightly with one arm while I break the fuck down, right there on the porch.
Hands stroke my hair, lips pressing against the strands, and I know Rowan is here as well, lending me his strength.
“You’ve saved us so many fucking times, Hunt,” he says, his voice low and rasping. “Roman and I would be dead without you, brother.”
The tears fall harder as they all hold me, letting me know that it’s okay to feel this, to be weak sometimes, because they love me regardless, just like I love them.
After some time, I couldn’t say how much, my cries subside, and yet they don’t let go, still holding me like it’s not a burden. Like I’m not a burden.
“I’d like us all to go back upstairs to bed to snuggle, skin on skin,” Iris murmurs, placing a kiss on my damp cheek as I straighten up. Her eyes are full of love, gleaming, and a small, knowing grin is on her face. “And I am so proud of you for sharing that with us, Daddy. Thank you.”
“You are a fucking wonder, Iris Anderson,” I marvel, a light chasing away that darkness that only moments ago felt so overwhelming.
“So are you, husband,” she replies, taking my hand, Roman taking my other in his warm palm, and Rowan leading the way back into the cabin and up the stairs.
We get undressed, and as we’re snuggling, just like Iris requested, the weight that has been holding me down for so long shifts, easing just slightly. It’s enough to let me know that I’ll be okay, that they will not let me drown underneath it.
I pull Iris to me, Roman acting as big spoon on my other side and Rowan interlacing our hands on Iris’s other side. My eyelids droop, exhaustion washing over me, unsurprising given all the big emotions that I just experienced.
“I love you, Daddy, so much,” Iris whispers, brushing her lips against mine.
“Love you, Daddy,” Roman murmurs, placing a light kiss on the back of my neck that sends warmth shooting all over me like a heated blanket.
“Love you, brother,” Rowan adds, and if I wasn’t so fucking tired, I might’ve burst.
Darkness creeps in around me, but it’s not scary like it was earlier. It’s the comforting blanket of love, of safety. I fall asleep in their arms, knowing that things may be bumpy along the way, but we will always make our way back to each other, because there is no other option.
