Licking my lips, the cold air bringing a chill to my skin, I whispered nervously, “I need to see Valentin.”

Kisa handed me the ring of keys the guard had held and said, “He is in the cell at the end. There are no windows. Zaal cut the lights near his cell. There is a light switch outside of the cell. You’ll need it to see. This place is aptly named ‘the Darkness.’ It is designed for torture and extreme punishment of enemies, nothing else.”

I swallowed again. With a shaking hand, I took the keys from Kisa. As she turned to walk away, she instructed, “There are four guards in this building. I will tell them you’re down here and that you’re not to be disturbed. Ask Pavel if you need anything. He’ll get whatever you ask for.”

Kisa started to climb the stairs. I felt the need to ask, “Why are you helping me? Valentin did torture me. Shouldn’t you be warning me off, too?”

Kisa glanced back, her face sympathetic. “Let’s just say that I fell for a man I shouldn’t have, either. Turns out he was the right man for me all along. Turns out he was, he is, my soul mate.” She nudged her chin in the direction of the cells. “You will know soon enough if you truly love that man down there, or if that obsession was prompted by your capture and eagerness to be free.” She shrugged. “Who are we to tell you what’s in your heart, no matter how extreme the circumstances in which you two met?”

“Thank you,” I said quietly after several seconds of not being able to respond.

“You’re welcome, sweetie,” Kisa replied with a smile. She left me alone. I turned to face the hallway.

My hands shook, rattling the metal keys, as I walked down the dimly lit hallway. Open cells with thick iron bars surrounded me on both sides. My footsteps echoed loudly on the hard stone floor, but I forced myself to keep moving. I had to reach the cell at the end of the hallway. When I reached the large isolated cell at the end, I could see nothing inside. The ceiling lights were out.

Valentin had been kept in total darkness for days.

Pulse pounding, I hurried the rest of the way, blind in the darkness. I pushed my hands out, feeling in front of me until I reached a hard slick wall. My fingers searched until they landed on the switch. I flicked it on—another dull light fighting a losing battle to illuminate the darkness. I blinked, adjusting my eyes to see in the poor light. When I glanced through the steel bars, I sank to my knees.

Valentin.

Valentin was shackled to the wall, his face and body bloodied and beaten. My stomach lurched when I saw deep gashes across his stomach and chest.

He’d lost weight. His head was hanging low on his slumped body. His arms were holding him up and his feet were dragging on the stone floor.

I retched. The sight of this man so broken tore my heart. Spurred into action, I checked the lock of the door and sought to find the right key from the bundle in my hand. It took me five tries to find the right one. As the cell door swung open, I ran in. Valentin didn’t move. He didn’t lift his head.

My hands were trembling at the sight of him hanging from the wall. I had to look away from his broken body to stop myself from collapsing. Instead I focused on the cuffs around his wrists. I stared at the small lock and searched for the key that would fit. My fingers were clumsy, but I caught sight of a tiny key. It had to be the one.

Holding the key, I edged closer. Inhaling sharply, I whispered, “Valentin?”

A soft moan drifted from Valentin’s mouth at the sound of my voice. I saw his fingers flinch. The coil in my chest began to unwind as he fought to lift his head.

I unlocked the cuff on his right hand. As soon as the cuff parted, his body lurched forward. Valentin’s large body now hung on the strength of one arm.

I tried to push him up, but his huge frame and height defeated me. I moved to the other cuff and unlocked it. As soon as the metal cuff came apart, Valentin fell facedown on the hard stone floor.

I had to glance away to regain my composure. He was naked. Every inch of his body was bruised, bloodied, or swollen. Zaal had punished him severely.

Half of me was angry at my brother, but the other half understood. I had been unconscious for days, unable to understand or articulate what this Russian man had come to mean to me.

Everything, I thought. This man had become my everything.

Spurred back to action, I bent down. I shucked off the coat Talia had given me, ignoring the severe cold in this dank sparse space. Valentin wasn’t moving. He lay in a heap on the floor, his arms twisted in the awkward position in which he had fallen.

Rubbing my hands together to generate some heat, I placed them on his side and pushed his body until he lay on his back.

A low stuttered groan came from Valentin’s bruised lips. I winced at the sight of his body. My breathing paused when I caught his eyes moving behind swollen eyelids.

“Valentin,” I whispered. “Are you okay?”

Valentin tried to move, tried to put his hands on the floor, but when his hands found purchase he was too weak to move.

“No, don’t,” I soothed, and inched closer. Valentin seemed to relax, his body calming and his breathing evening out. His fingers twitched. When I saw his hand twitch, I realized he was trying to hold my hand. My stomach turned, as I was reassured that he wanted me to hold him.

After everything Valentin still wanted me close.

I carefully laid my palm against his, my fingers featherlight against his. I didn’t want to hurt him.

I ran my free hand over his forehead and brought my face close to his. “It’s okay, Valentin. I’m here now.”

At my words, Valentin squeezed my hand. It was light, barely a squeeze at all, but I could feel his relief that I was here, that he was no longer alone.

My heart ached at the thought of him in this cell, being tortured. I knew this was a strange thought, considering what he’d done to me, but I felt it all the same. He wasn’t Valentin then; he was desperately trying to be the hero to his sister—which made him every inch a hero to me.

My eyes roved down his injured body. Unable to suppress the sentiment on the tip of my tongue, I whispered, “I love you.”

Valentin’s hand tightened on mine. I stared at his bruised hand and how it looked against my skin. Shivers ran over my body at the feel of someone watching me. I glanced up. Staring at me, tired but bright, were Valentin’s crystal blue eyes. His dark eyebrows made him appear as severe as always, as did his many facial scars. But those eyes were as soft as a cloud as they gazed upon me.

“Hey,” I said, and moved to hover over his face. His hand kept hold of mine. As I felt the warmth from his broken body, my eyes began to fill with tears. His eyes searched mine.

They moved down to search my body. I assured, “I am fine.” I knew he was checking that I was okay. His eyebrows pulled down slightly, letting me know he didn’t believe me.

Swallowing, I explained, “She drugged me, Valentin. I have been sick for days, but I have no memory. I didn’t even remember you until my mind cleared and your eyes flashed in my mind.” Tears built, but I blinked them away. “I am so sorry that you’re hurt. What Zaal has done to you…,” I trailed off.

My head lowered until I laid my cheek against his chest.

“Was … deserved.”

I stilled when he croaked out his response. I moved to look up but felt his hand gently press my head, and I melted further into his chest at his touch.

I pressed a kiss to his skin and confessed, “Even though I don’t remember anything, I feel that I have missed you.”

“Zoya,” Valentin rasped, and I heard his heart beat louder in his chest.

Zaal’s warning about my closeness to Valentin sprang to mind. Coldness filled my body at the thought that I wanted Valentin simply because he had been my captor.

“What?” Valentin asked.

Raising my head to look down at him, I hesitated, then eventually admitted, “Zaal doesn’t understand how I can want you. He thinks it’s wrong”—I paused and swallowed—“because you hurt me.”

Valentin closed his eyes. When they reopened, they were radiating regret. “He’s right,” Valentin confirmed after a long silence.

I shook my head. He squeezed my hand. “No,” I argued. “I’m not some victim who has a strange obsession with their abuser. You are not evil. You were doing what you could to save your sister.” I pointed to Valentin’s broken body. “Zaal has just done the same.” I huffed out a single humorless laugh. “It is gallant in a way. It was cruelty born from the duty of love.”