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Chapter Text

Brandon's POV

The winter air bit at my cheeks as the plane descended, its soft hum doing little to quiet the storm in my chest. Russia stretched endlessly beneath me, a blanket of white and shadow, beautiful and intimidating in equal measure. I’d been here before, technically, but never like this. This wasn’t a short trip where Niko and I hid away in a secluded chalet.

This was me stepping into his world.

Nikolai’s world.

The mafia world.

The word itself felt like something sharp and foreign on my tongue, even though Nikolai had never kept it a secret. He didn’t talk about it much he preferred to keep me far away from the darkness he had been born into but there was only so much distance you could maintain when you were married to a Sokolov.

Nikolai’s warm hand found mine, his long fingers curling around mine with ease. His thumb brushed over my knuckles, the repetitive, grounding motion easing some of the tension knotting my spine. I turned my head to look at him and was immediately met with those bright, ocean-blue eyes, so similar to my own and yet carrying a fire I’d never seen in anyone else.

“You’re thinking too much, lotus flower,” he said softly, voice low enough that it felt like a secret shared just between us. “Tell me what’s spinning in that pretty head of yours.”

I swallowed, torn between honesty and reassurance. Niko always saw through me anyway.

“It’s just… different,” I admitted, glancing out the small oval window where the snow blurred into streaks of gray. “I know your parents love me, Niko. I’ve never doubted that. But this time feels… heavier. Like I’m about to see a part of you that you’ve been shielding me from.”

His grip on my hand tightened almost imperceptibly. For anyone else, it would’ve been impossible to notice, but I felt it. Because this was Nikolai, and every heartbeat of his seemed tied to mine.

“You are,” he said after a beat of silence, no sugarcoating, no false comfort. That was another thing about him he never lied to me, even when the truth was ugly. “But I will never let that world touch you. You’ll see it, yes, but you will not be part of it. That is a promise.”

My chest squeezed at the fierce determination in his tone. He would burn Russia to the ground before he let me get hurt; I knew that with every fiber of my being. Still, this wasn’t just about danger.

“It’s not the violence I’m worried about,” I murmured. “It’s… them. Your grandparents, the others in your family. What if I—”

“You will not ‘what if’ anything,” Nikolai interrupted, his voice sharpening in a way that always made me listen. He cupped my jaw with his free hand, forcing me to meet his gaze fully. “My parents adore you. My grandparents will adore you. And if they don’t, then they can deal with me.”
That coaxed a reluctant smile from me, though nerves still hummed beneath my skin.

He smiled back, softer this time. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, baby. They will see that.”
I leaned into his touch, letting his certainty steady me.

When we finally landed, the bitter cold hit me like a wall the moment we stepped off the private jet. Snow crunched under our boots as we crossed the tarmac toward a sleek black SUV waiting for us. Two men in dark coats stood beside it, their posture sharp and alert. They didn’t say a word, just bowed slightly to Nikolai before opening the door.

It was subtle, but I caught the way they looked at him ,deference mixed with wariness. Nikolai didn’t just belong to this world. He ruled parts of it.

I slid into the backseat beside him, my hand finding his automatically. Outside, the Russian countryside blurred past, pristine and dangerous.

“Are you cold?” he asked, draping his heavy coat over my lap before I could answer.

“Not really,” I said, my voice muffled by the fur-lined collar. “Just… taking it all in.”
He hummed, clearly unconvinced but letting it slide.

As we drove, I tried to picture the Sokolov estate, which Niko had described in vague, half-teasing fragments. I’d expected something grand, but nothing could have prepared me for the reality.

The gates loomed like iron sentinels, intricate patterns curling through the metal. Beyond them, the driveway stretched long and winding, lined with trees heavy with snow. And at the end…

The mansion rose like a fortress, elegant and imposing all at once. Its stone walls seemed to hold centuries of secrets, its windows glowing warmly against the frigid landscape.

My breath caught.
“This is where you grew up?” I whispered.

Nikolai’s lips curved into a smirk. “Terrifying, isn’t it?”

“A little,” I admitted honestly.

He squeezed my hand. “Don’t be afraid. It’s just walls and people. Nothing more.”
Easy for him to say.

The car rolled to a smooth stop at the front steps, where Rai and Kyle were already waiting. Rai looked as regal as ever, her dark hair perfectly arranged, her presence commanding even in stillness. Beside her, Kyle was a quieter kind of strength, his sharp eyes softening the moment they landed on us.

The second I stepped out, Rai swept me into a hug that was surprisingly warm for someone so intimidating.
“Brandon,” she said, her accented voice rich with affection. “Finally, you are here.”

“I missed you too,” I said honestly, because I had. Rai might be terrifying when she wanted to be, but with me, she’d always been gentle.

Kyle’s hug came next, strong and grounding. “Good to see you, son.” His words were simple, but the way he looked at me made my throat tighten. Kyle didn’t just tolerate me,he was grateful for me. Grateful that I’d brought light into his son’s life.

And just like that, some of the fear loosened its grip on my heart.

But as Nikolai guided me toward the massive doors, whispering Russian phrases I couldn’t quite catch, I knew this was only the beginning. Because somewhere inside this house were his grandparents,the true power behind the Sokolov name.
And meeting them was going to change everything.

The warmth of the entry hall hit me first, a sharp contrast to the biting Russian cold outside. It smelled faintly of cedar and something darker gun oil, maybe, or the kind of spice you’d expect to find in a place where history lingered in every crack of the floorboards. My boots sank into a rug so plush it felt like walking on a cloud, though I didn’t have long to appreciate it because Nikolai practically dragged me forward.

“Slow down, Niko,” I hissed, my hand clutched tightly in his.

“Slow down?” He turned on me with a look of exaggerated offense, his messy black hair falling into his eyes.

“Baby, do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this? I have been telling my babushka about you for months. If I walk slowly, I might combust.”

He made an explosive gesture with his hands, complete with sound effects. The two guards at the door didn’t so much as flinch, clearly used to Nikolai’s brand of chaos.
I stifled a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love with you, yes.” He gave me a quick, crooked grin, his teeth flashing, before resuming his almost-jog pace. “Come on, lotus flower, my grandparents are going to eat you alive if we keep them waiting.”

“Comforting,” I muttered under my breath, though there was no hiding the smile tugging at my lips.

As much as his dramatic behavior made me want to roll my eyes, I couldn’t deny that it eased my nerves. This was classic Niko, frenetic energy that danced the line between charming and utterly unhinged. It was like he had two gears: terrifyingly controlled or completely chaotic. There was no middle ground.

The hall opened into a vast room with ceilings so high they seemed to disappear into shadow. A crystal chandelier glittered above us, throwing fractured light across the polished marble floors. In the center of it all stood an older couple, their presence commanding even without saying a word.

Rai’s sharp features softened as she approached them, kissing her mother’s cheeks in a show of respect that seemed… old-world, almost ritualistic. Kyle lingered a step back, his sharp eyes scanning the room with a sniper’s precision even in a moment that appeared domestic.
My stomach flipped.

These were the people who had shaped Nikolai into who he was.
“Babushka! Dedushka!” Nikolai’s voice boomed across the room, echoing against the marble. He swept forward like a storm, pulling me along until I nearly stumbled.

His grandmother’s face, stern and almost regal, lit up at the sight of him. “Nikolai,” she said, her Russian accent thick but melodic. She opened her arms, and Niko actually dropped my hand to crash into her embrace like a little boy instead of the terrifying mafia heir he was.
I blinked, floored.

“Did you miss me?” he demanded dramatically, his voice muffled against her shoulder.

She gave a sharp laugh, smacking the back of his head lightly. “You are as dramatic as your mother.”

“And as handsome as my father,” Niko added without missing a beat, popping up with a mischievous smirk.
Kyle, from behind us, sighed deeply but didn’t argue.

Then Nikolai turned back to me, and in an instant, his whole demeanor shifted. His smile softened into something tender, almost reverent. He reached for me like he couldn’t stand the distance any longer, wrapping an arm around my waist and tugging me close.

“Babushka, Dedushka,” he said, his voice dropping into something quieter, more serious, “this is Brandon. My husband. My heart. My everything.”

My throat tightened. He always had a way of saying the most outrageous things like they were undeniable truths.

His grandfather stepped forward first. He was a tall man, his presence sharp and cold in a way that screamed power. His silver hair was neatly combed back, and his pale blue eyes studied me with an intensity that made me fight the urge to fidget.

“So,” he said finally, his deep voice like gravel. “This is the one who tamed our wild grandson.”

I flushed. “I wouldn’t say ‘tamed,’ sir.”

“Lotus,” Nikolai gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. “You wound me! Tell them the truth you keep me perfectly behaved.”

I shot him a look. “Perfectly behaved? You’re literally dragging me around like a kid in a candy store.”

He grinned, utterly unapologetic. “Because you are the candy store, baby.”

His grandmother chuckled softly, clearly amused despite herself. “He is worse than ever, I see.”

“Because he’s happy,” Rai said simply, her tone leaving no room for argument. She rested a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “Brandon brings him peace.”

Kyle’s voice was quieter but no less steady as he added, “And we are grateful for that every single day.”

I swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the weight of their words.

Nikolai, on the other hand, leaned into me like he couldn’t help himself, pressing his lips against my temple. “See? Told you they’d love you.”

The evening passed in a blur of introductions and food that could’ve fed an army. Nikolai oscillated between charming me with his affectionate nonsense and terrifying everyone else with the flashes of his darker side.

At one point, his grandfather asked him about a recent business deal, and in an instant, Niko’s entire vibe shifted. Gone was the chaotic, lovesick husband; in his place stood a cold, razor-sharp strategist. His words were precise, his smile sharp enough to cut.

I caught Kyle’s eye across the table, and he gave me a subtle nod, like he was silently reminding me: Only you can bring him back from that edge.

So I did. I brushed my knee against his under the table, leaned in close, and whispered something silly about sneaking dessert later.

And just like that, the darkness in him cracked, replaced by that wild, boyish grin I loved so much.

Later, when we were finally alone in the room Niko had declared “ours” the second we arrived, he sprawled on the massive bed and pulled me into his lap.

“See?” he said, nuzzling into my neck. “Not so scary, was it?”

I laughed softly, running my fingers through his messy hair. “Your family is amazing. A little intimidating, but amazing.”

“Intimidating?” he repeated, feigning offense. “Lotus flower, we haven’t even shown you the armory yet.”

My laughter caught somewhere between amusement and mild horror. “The what?”

Nikolai’s grin turned absolutely unhinged.
“So…” he started, dragging the word out. “There’s someone very important you haven’t met yet.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Someone else? I thought I met everyone today.”

“Oh, no, baby.” His grin turned positively wicked, like a cat about to knock over a priceless vase. “You’ve met the humans. But she…” He sat up abruptly, excitement radiating off him like static electricity. “She’s not exactly human.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Niko, what did you do?”

“Nothing!” he said, throwing his hands up, which was always a sure sign he had definitely done something. “Well, okay, maybe not nothing. You’ll see.” He leaned close, whispering conspiratorially, “Her name is Nyx.”

“Nyx?” The name rolled strangely off my tongue, elegant but sharp.

Niko’s grin widened as he stood, tugging me to my feet like a kid on Christmas morning. “Come on, lotus flower. This is going to be fun.”

The corridors of the estate seemed quieter now, the earlier bustle of servants and guards replaced by a stillness that was almost… watchful. Nikolai’s pace was quick and eager, but every now and then he’d glance back at me, his eyes sparkling with some secret amusement.

“You’re being suspicious,” I muttered, hugging myself against the chill.

“Suspicious?” He gasped dramatically. “Brandon, my heart, my one and only ,how dare you doubt me!”

“Because I know you,” I shot back dryly. “And you only get that look when you’re about to unleash chaos.”

Instead of denying it, he just smirked, proving me right.
We stopped before a set of heavy iron doors at the end of a side hallway. Two guards stood posted, their expressions carved from stone. When they saw Nikolai, they stepped aside immediately, though I noticed a flicker of unease in their eyes.

The unease wasn’t for Nikolai.
It was for whatever was behind those doors.

“Okay,” Nikolai said, turning to me with a grin that was both reassuring and… maybe a little unhinged. “A few ground rules. Don’t make sudden movements. Don’t try to pet her until she approaches you. And definitely don’t smell like fear.”

I stared at him. “Niko. What is in there?”

His eyes glittered like a dark ocean. “You’ll see.”

Before I could protest, he pushed the doors open.
The room beyond was dimly lit, the air carrying a wild, earthy scent that prickled at the back of my throat. At first, all I saw was shadows and the faint glint of metal from a row of cages empty, I realized with a spike of relief. Then, from the far corner, something moved.

A low, guttural growl rolled through the space, vibrating deep in my chest. My heart stuttered as a massive shape detached itself from the darkness, moving with liquid, predatory grace.

When it stepped into the light, my breath caught.
A black panther.
No, not just a panther, a queen.

Her fur was like liquid night, rippling over powerful muscles with every step. Golden eyes gleamed with sharp intelligence, locking on me with a focus so intense I felt pinned to the spot.

Nyx.

She was both terrifying and breathtaking, a creature that belonged in myths rather than reality.
“Holy—” I started, only for Nikolai to clap a hand over my mouth.

“Shh,” he whispered, his other hand reaching out toward the panther. “You don’t want to offend her.”

Nyx’s growl quieted the moment she saw him. Her entire body language shifted, going from lethal predator to something startlingly affectionate. With a deep, rumbling purr, she closed the distance between them, pressing her massive head into Niko’s chest.

“There’s my girl,” he crooned, scratching behind her ears like she was just a house cat instead of a walking nightmare. “Did you miss me, Nyx?”

Her tail swished, and she chuffed softly, the sound oddly gentle for something so fearsome.

My jaw dropped. “Y...you grew up with this?”

Nikolai turned, his grin unhinged with pride. “Isn’t she perfect?”

“She’s going to eat me,” I hissed, instinctively taking a step back.

At that, Nyx’s head snapped toward me. Her golden gaze narrowed, sharp and calculating. She moved in front of Nikolai in an instant, her massive body a living shield. A warning growl vibrated through the air, making the hair on my arms stand on end.

“She doesn’t know you yet,” Nikolai explained calmly, resting a hand on her sleek head. “Nyx has been protecting me since we were both little. She’s never let anyone get close unless she trusts them.”

I swallowed hard. “So… what now?”

“Now,” he said with a manic sort of glee, “we see if she likes you.”

I didn’t get a chance to protest before his grandparents appeared in the doorway.

“Ah,” his grandfather rumbled, his sharp blue eyes gleaming with interest. “So the introductions begin.”

His grandmother’s lips curved in a knowing smile. “Nyx has never taken to outsiders easily. This will be… illuminating.”

Nikolai rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “You guys act like she’s some terrifying beast. She’s just a baby.”

Nyx growled at that, clearly disagreeing.

I stood frozen as she padded toward me, each step silent and predatory. My pulse hammered so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it.

“Don’t run,” Nikolai murmured behind me, his tone serious now. “Stand still. Let her decide.”

When she stopped directly in front of me, she lowered her massive head, golden eyes boring into mine. The weight of her gaze was almost unbearable, like she was peeling me apart layer by layer, deciding whether I was worthy.
Seconds stretched into eternity.

Then...
Nyx sniffed me once, twice, before abruptly leaning forward and licking my cheek with a rough, warm tongue.
I gasped.

Behind me, Nikolai whooped. “Ha! I knew it!”
His grandparents exchanged a look that was equal parts relief and awe.

“She approves,” his grandmother said softly.

“She more than approves,” Nikolai crowed, wrapping an arm around me and another around Nyx’s neck. “Lotus flower, do you understand what this means? My terrifying murder cat likes you! You’re officially family now.”

Nyx purred, her deep rumble vibrating through us both as she pressed her head against my chest.

For the first time that day, the last of my fear melted away.
I wasn’t just stepping into Nikolai’s world anymore.
I was being accepted by it.

Nyx’s golden eyes never left mine, even after she’d deemed me… acceptable, apparently.

Acceptable enough not to rip my throat out, at least.
The panther’s massive head rested on my chest as if she owned me, her purr a low, vibrating hum that filled the quiet room. My legs felt like jelly, but I forced myself to stay completely still. Any sudden movements and this could flip from wholesome bonding moment to bloodbath real quick.

“You’re… heavy,” I whispered, trying not to laugh nervously as her whiskers tickled my jaw.

Nyx huffed, as if insulted, and shifted slightly, pressing more of her weight into me.

“Oh, she heard that,” Nikolai said gleefully, practically bouncing beside us. His grin was wild, his blue eyes sparkling like he’d just won the lottery. “You’ve done it now, lotus flower. You’re officially her furniture.”

“Furniture?” I squeaked.

“Mhmm.” He crouched next to Nyx, rubbing under her chin with the same easy confidence he used on me when he wanted to coax a smile out of my bad moods. “She’s showing trust. It’s an honor, Bran. Even my mother still gets swatted when she tries to cuddle Nyx without permission.”

“Your mother?” My eyes shot wide. Rai was terrifying on a normal day. I couldn’t imagine even she being vulnerable to Nyx’s wrath.

“Rai gets one swat every Christmas,” Kyle’s calm voice interjected from behind us. He stood with arms crossed, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was suppressing a smile. “It’s tradition now.”

Rai, who was standing beside him, sniffed imperiously. “Nyx is dramatic. I allow it.”

“Dramatic?” Nikolai gasped, clutching his chest like his mother had just insulted his firstborn child. “Mother, how dare you slander my beautiful girl!”

Nyx let out a low growl that sounded suspiciously like agreement, and I nearly choked on a laugh.
“She’s definitely your panther,” I murmured.

“Oh, she’s better than me,” Niko said proudly. “Smarter, deadlier, shinier coat. Honestly if I weren’t me, I’d be jealous.”

Later that night, after the excitement of introductions and the endless stream of family banter, I found myself sitting on the floor of our room, still in awe of the massive creature stretched out beside me. Nyx lay curled up like a shadow come to life, her sleek black fur gleaming in the soft light.

Nikolai had sprawled on the bed, watching us with lazy contentment and a hint of possessiveness, like he was ready to intervene at the first sign of danger.

“She’s… beautiful,” I said quietly, my fingers hovering just above her fur.

“She knows it,” Niko said with a smirk. “Don’t let those big, innocent eyes fool you, baby. She’s manipulative. She’ll steal your heart, then your pillow.”

Nyx flicked an ear, clearly unimpressed with his slander.
I hesitated for a moment, then slowly lowered my hand until my fingertips brushed against her fur. The texture surprised me it was soft, almost silky, but beneath it was the undeniable strength of coiled muscle.

Nyx went completely still.
So did I.

Seconds passed, and then she shifted slightly, pressing her massive head into my lap with a sound that could only be described as a rumbling purr.
My heart melted.

“She likes you,” Nikolai said softly, his usual manic energy subdued into something warm and proud. “She doesn’t do that for anyone else. Even my grandfather gets ignored most of the time.”

I smiled, carefully stroking between Nyx’s ears. “Why do I feel like I just passed some ancient mafia trial?”

“Because you did,” Nikolai said solemnly. Then he ruined the moment by adding, “Nyx is the real boss here. I just pretend to be in charge.”

I laughed, the sound mingling with Nyx’s purr. “You two really grew up together, huh?”

Niko’s expression softened as he propped himself up on one elbow. “Yeah. My grandparents gave her to me when I was ten. She was this tiny ball of fur that tried to bite my face off the first time I held her. I thought she was perfect.”
“You would,” I teased.

He grinned, unrepentant. “We trained together. Played together. She guarded me when I was a kid, and when I got older… well, she started guarding others from me.”

There was a glint of darkness in his eyes, a flash of that unhinged side he tried to keep from spilling out around me.
“She’s more than a pet,” he continued, his voice softer now. “She’s… family. If something ever happened to her or you ,I’d burn the world to ash.”

I swallowed, my hand never stopping its slow strokes over Nyx’s fur.

Nyx raised her head slightly then, studying me with those sharp golden eyes. It felt like she was listening, maybe even understanding.

“Hey, Nyx,” I murmured, leaning down a little. “I’m not here to take him away from you. I promise. I just… want to love him the way you’ve been protecting him all these years.”

For a long moment, she just stared at me. Then, with a low, approving chuff, she licked my cheek again and flopped back down, this time curling around me like I was something worth guarding too.
My breath caught.

“She chose you,” Nikolai said softly, awe creeping into his voice.

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” he said, crawling down from the bed to wrap himself around both of us, his wild grin tempered by something tender, “that Nyx has officially decided you’re hers. And Baby…” His lips brushed my temple. “There is no safer place in this world than being hers.”

The next morning, I woke to find Nyx sprawled across the foot of the bed, one massive paw draped possessively over my legs.

“Uh, Niko?” I whispered, nudging him awake. “I think your panther might be trying to kill me in my sleep.”

Niko cracked one eye open, groggy but amused. “Kill you? Lotus flower, she’s cuddling you.”

“This is cuddling?” I hissed, gesturing at the enormous predator currently pinning me down.

“Of course!” he said, stretching lazily. “It’s the highest form of affection. You’ve been promoted to her favorite person after me. She’ll probably start bringing you gifts soon.”

“Gifts?”

“Dead rabbits, shiny knives, maybe a severed hand if you’re really lucky.”

I stared at him in horror. “…You’re joking.”

Niko’s grin was pure chaos. “Am I?”

Nyx yawned, showing teeth that could easily crush bone, and then deliberately rested her head on my stomach with a deep, content purr.

I sighed, resigned. “Guess I’m hers now too.”

“You were always ours,” Nikolai murmured, his voice unexpectedly soft as he kissed my cheek. “Nyx just made it official.”

Chapter Text

Nikolai’s POV

As the days passed, Nyx’s attention shifted from me to my husband and honestly, It was one of the most amusing things I’d ever seen. The same terrifying creature that once snarled at my uncles now trailed behind Brandon like some oversized, lethal shadow. She followed him through the gardens, sat beside him when he read, even stood guard outside the door like a royal sentinel.

Everyone in the house had taken to watching this new dynamic with fascination. My mother smirked every time Nyx curled up at Brandon’s feet, her massive body draped protectively around him, as if daring anyone to get too close. Even my grandparents, who usually regarded everything with austere control, were visibly intrigued. It was a phenomenon.

And it made me… proud.

Today, though, I had to leave. Business called, and not the kind of business Brandon ever needed to see. I hated the idea of being away from him, even for a few hours, but that was the life we were born into.

When I slipped out of bed, Brandon was still curled beneath the blankets, his hair a messy halo around his face, lips parted in a soft, even breath. My chest tightened at the sight. My baby looked so peaceful, so utterly unguarded. I didn’t want to wake him not when he so rarely let himself rest like this.

Leaning down, I pressed a slow, lingering kiss to his temple, inhaling the sweet, familiar scent of him.

“Sleep, lotus flower,” I whispered against his skin. “I’ll be back before you miss me.”

As I straightened, a pair of glowing golden eyes caught my attention from the corner of the room. Nyx was lying in her usual place just near the door, her sleek black form almost melting into the shadows of the hallway. She didn’t move as I approached, but her gaze followed me with sharp intensity.

I crouched beside her, running my fingers through the impossibly smooth fur along her massive head. She was a predator, a weapon trained to kill without hesitation but to me, she was a piece of my childhood, a piece of home.

“Watch him for me,” I murmured, my voice dropping to a tone only she and I shared. “You know what he means to me. No one touches him. Not even a whisper of harm, do you understand?”

Her ears twitched, and a low, almost imperceptible sound rumbled in her chest, acknowledgment. It was enough to make a sharp grin pull at my mouth.

“That’s my girl,” I said softly, pressing my forehead briefly to hers before standing.

As I walked away, I glanced back once to see her already stationed near the bedroom door, muscles taut and ready. Brandon would be safe.

Downstairs, my parents were waiting for me, both dressed sharply in their usual blend of elegance and danger. My mother was a vision of lethal grace, while my father had that calm, assessing gaze that saw everything but revealed nothing.

Dad gave me a subtle nod. “Ready, son?”

I smirked, though the restlessness was already coiling in my gut. “Always.”

We headed out, leaving the estate behind, but my mind lingered on Brandon.

Brandon’s day would be far different than mine. I knew my grandparents had planned something for him, introducing him further into our world, showing him traditions, culture, perhaps even stories of our lineage. They adored him almost as much as they adored me, which, frankly, wasn’t surprising.

As hours passed and I handled the bloody, calculated business of our empire, I kept picturing Nyx trailing after Brandon through the halls, her tail flicking lazily but her senses sharp as ever. She had always been fiercely loyal to me, but now… it seemed she’d transferred that loyalty to him, as if she understood he was an extension of me.
Maybe even the heart of me.

And God help anyone who tried to test that bond.
I’d witnessed Nyx tear through enemies before, her speed and precision unmatched, but I had a feeling she’d be even more terrifying if Brandon was threatened. The thought both warmed me and sent a thrill through my veins.

When I would return today, I wanted to see it for myself, to see my husband and my protector side by side, safe and whole.
Until then, I’d trust Nyx to keep her promise.

The estate gates closed behind me with a heavy clang, the low rumble of the car engine fading into silence as we pulled into the courtyard. Noon light spilled over the grounds, pale and cold against the crisp winter air.

Russia’s winters had a bite to them, one that I’d always found invigorating, but today it only made me restless. My veins still thrummed with the remnants of the morning’s work,too much blood, too many words exchanged in hushed rooms where betrayal festered like rot.

But the moment I stepped out of the car, the tension began to ease because I knew who was waiting for me inside.
And then I saw him.

Brandon was stretched out on one of the cushioned lounge chairs beneath the sprawling branches of the old elm tree. The warm winter sun slanted through the bare limbs, and in the midst of all that muted light, he was a vision.

His book had slipped from his hand to rest against his chest, his head tilted slightly to the side, lips parted in sleep. A faint flush colored his cheeks from the cold, making him look like some ethereal painting come to life.
My breath caught.

Even after everything, after marriage, after countless nights with him curled against me, I still wasn’t used to the sight of him like this. So peaceful. So mine.

But what truly froze me in place was Nyx.

The massive panther was positioned directly beside him, her sleek black form curved protectively around the lounge chair. She had shifted her body to cast a perfect shadow over him, shielding his face and chest from the sunlight. Her golden eyes flicked to me as I approached, a silent warning and greeting all at once.

My lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile.
“You really have fallen for him, haven’t you, girl?” I murmured.

Her tail flicked once, sharp and deliberate. Agreement.
God, if my grandparents could see this, they’d lose their minds. Nyx had been my shadow since childhood, bonded to me so completely she’d nearly torn apart a man once for raising his voice at me. And now she was doing the same for Brandon. No, more than the same ,this was devotion. Fierce, absolute.

I crouched beside them, my gloved hand brushing lightly over Nyx’s head before moving to Brandon. His hair was soft beneath my fingers, warm despite the cold air.
“Lotus flower,” I whispered, leaning down to press my lips to his temple. “You’ll catch a chill out here.”

He stirred faintly, a soft hum escaping him, but didn’t wake. My chest ached at the sound.

I slid an arm beneath Brandon’s knees and another beneath his back, lifting him carefully from the chair. He stirred again, murmuring something incoherent, his head tucking instinctively against my chest. My heart nearly stopped from how perfect it felt.

Nyx rose smoothly beside me, silent as a shadow, padding at my side as I carried Brandon back toward the house.

Inside, the warmth of the estate wrapped around us, the faint scent of woodsmoke and herbs lingering in the air. My grandparents were in the sitting room, their conversation pausing as they caught sight of me and of Brandon nestled in my arms.

My grandma’s sharp, calculating eyes softened almost imperceptibly. “He’s adapting well.”

I smirked. “He’s perfect. And apparently, irresistible. Even Nyx can’t get enough of him.”

Mom chuckled, the sound low and amused. “She has good instincts. Perhaps better than some of the humans in this family.”

“Perhaps,” I agreed, though my grin had an edge to it.
Because as much as I loved seeing my worlds merge like this, my family, my husband.I knew peace never lasted long in our world. And anyone foolish enough to threaten what I was carrying in my arms would discover exactly how unhinged a Sokolov heir could be.

I pressed another kiss to Brandon’s hair, my voice a soft vow only he and Nyx could hear.
“Mine. Always mine.”

I carried Brandon upstairs, careful not to jostle him. He was still lost to that deep, dream-heavy sleep that always made him look far too delicate, like one wrong touch might shatter him. It stirred something sharp and primal inside me every single time, a need to protect, to claim, to destroy anything that might so much as breathe wrong near him.

When we reached our bedroom, I laid Brandon gently on the bed. He murmured my name in his sleep, his hand reaching out blindly until it brushed against mine. That single, unconscious act nearly undid me.

“I’m here, baby,” I whispered, sinking to the mattress beside him. “Always here.”

His breathing evened out again, and I tucked the blankets around him, pressing one last kiss to his temple before finally rising.

Nyx settled by the door, her massive body curling in a protective arc, golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. I crouched beside her, rubbing a hand through the silky black fur of her neck.

“You did well,” I told her. “Better than most of the guards outside. You kept him safe, didn’t you?”

She let out a soft chuffing sound, the closest thing she gave to affection, and nudged my hand with her head. My smile came sharp and proud.

“You love him too,” I murmured. “Good. Because if anything happens to him…” My voice darkened, dropping to a near-growl. “We’ll burn everything down, won’t we, girl?”

Her tail flicked once, sharp and deliberate, like a promise.
By the time Brandon woke, the sun had begun to set, casting long streaks of orange and violet across the snow-covered gardens. I was seated in the armchair near the window, watching him stir beneath the blankets.

He blinked blearily, blue eyes finding mine. Those eyes,they were the same shade as mine, but so much softer, so much warmer.

“You’re back,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.
I was on the bed in an instant, leaning over him. “Of course I’m back, lotus flower. Did you think I’d leave you alone for long?”

A faint smile curved his lips, and he reached up to brush his fingers over my jaw. “Mafia business?”

“Mhm.” I kissed his palm, then nipped lightly at his wrist, unable to resist. “Handled. Nothing you need to worry your beautiful head about.”

Nyx, who had been lying silently by the door, rose and padded over to Brandon. She placed her massive head on the edge of the mattress, letting out a low rumble that somehow sounded fond.

Brandon laughed softly, rubbing her head. “She stayed with me all day. Followed me everywhere. I think she likes me.”

“Likes you?” I smirked, brushing his hair back from his face.

“Lotus flower, she’s obsessed with you. I think she might love you even more than me now.”

Brandon’s laugh grew warmer, his cheeks flushing. “Impossible.”

“Mm,” I pretended to consider, my grin turning wicked. “We’ll see.”

I turned to Nyx, narrowing my eyes playfully. “Traitor.”

She blinked at me slowly, as if utterly unimpressed, before nudging Brandon again.

“See?” I groaned dramatically, throwing myself down beside Brandon. “First my parents and friends, then grandparents, now Nyx. Everyone falls under your spell. You’re dangerous, baby.”

Brandon shook his head, giggling, but then his expression softened. “She’s… incredible, Niko. I’ve never felt so safe with anyone or anything like I do with her.”

My chest tightened, and I pulled him close, holding him against me. “That’s because she knows what you are to me,” I said quietly, fiercely. “You’re my entire fucking world, lotusflower. And now she understands that too. You have me. You have her. You have this entire family at your back.”

His breath caught, and he buried his face against my neck. “I don’t deserve all of this.”

I gripped his chin, forcing him to meet my eyes. My voice came out rough, dangerous. “Don’t you dare say that again. You deserve everything, lotus flower. You deserve peace, love, safety and I’ll kill anyone who tries to take it from you.”

Brandon’s eyes shimmered with emotion.

Later, as night settled over the estate, we sat together in the garden once more, this time with a thick blanket draped over both our shoulders. The air was freezing, but Brandon insisted he wanted to see the stars.

Nyx sat nearby, her gaze scanning the darkness.
Brandon leaned his head on my shoulder. “She’s… watching me again,” he whispered, amused.

“Of course she is,” I said with a smirk, wrapping my arm tighter around him. “She’s your shadow now. Like me.”

He tilted his head up to look at me. “Like you?”

“Yes, baby.” My grin softened into something reverent.

“You’re the heart of this beastly empire, Bran. And both Nyx and I? We’re your claws.”

Nyx growled softly, almost as if she approved of the statement.

Brandon laughed, breathless and bright, before snuggling closer to me.

And for that moment, just that moment, the world felt untouchable.

Chapter Text

Nikolai’s POV

I woke to the sound of soft, persistent whining.

At first, I ignored it, burying my face deeper into the pillow, the edges of a dream still clinging to me. Brandon was curled against me, his head tucked under my chin, his breath warm against my throat. The room was dim, the early winter light barely cutting through the heavy curtains.

Perfect. Peaceful.

The whining came again, louder this time. Nyx.

My brow furrowed. She never whined unless something was wrong.

I cracked one eye open and saw her standing at the side of the bed, tail flicking, golden eyes fixed on us.

“What’s wrong, Nyx?” I muttered, voice thick with sleep.

But she didn’t move. She whined again, sharper this time, pacing a small circle before coming right back to the bedside.

That was when I felt it.

Brandon shifted in his sleep, pressing even closer to me, and a wave of heat hit my skin. Not the usual pleasant warmth of his body but something…wrong. Too hot.

Sleep fled instantly. My hand came up to his face, brushing his cheek, his forehead.

“Lotus,” I whispered, frowning. “Baby, wake up for me.”

He stirred with a soft sound, eyelids fluttering open, his blue eyes hazy with sleep. “Niko?” His voice was rough, the single word fragile.

My stomach twisted. Fuck.

“You’re burning up,” I said, sitting up and tugging him gently into my lap. He let me, his head lolling against my chest, and it scared me more than I wanted to admit. Brandon wasn’t dramatic when he was sick. If he let himself be this limp, it meant he felt awful.

Nyx jumped lightly onto the edge of the bed, crouching beside us with a low, worried rumble. Her nose nudged Brandon’s arm as if to check him herself.

“She woke me,” I murmured, kissing the crown of Brandon’s head. “Good girl, Nyx.”

Brandon gave a sleepy laugh, more breath than sound. “Your terrifying panther…is a tattletale.”

“She’s protective, Lotus. Like me.” My voice was soft, but underneath it thrummed a current of possessive fear. I hated this. Hated seeing him weak, vulnerable.

“’M fine,” he mumbled, trying to sit up straighter.

I immediately pressed him back down. “No, you’re not. Don’t argue with me.”

He sighed but didn’t fight me, which only made my worry spike higher.

I shifted us so I could wrap a blanket around him, then reached for my phone on the nightstand. With one hand, I texted Mom, letting her know what was happening. She’d already been fussing over Brandon’s adjustment to the Russian winter.

“Nyx,” I said quietly, nodding toward the door. She leapt down, padding off with silent grace. A few minutes later, I heard her claws on the marble floor as she returned ,just as Mom entered the room, following my loyal beast like a shadow.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice clipped with concern as she crossed to us.

“He’s feverish,” I said, trying to keep my tone even but failing. Mom’s sharp eyes softened when she saw the way I was clutching Brandon.

“Poor thing,” she murmured, brushing Brandon’s damp hair back. “It’s likely just the cold, Nikolai. Make him comfortable, and I’ll send someone to fetch medicine.”

I nodded, jaw tight. Logic told me she was right, but my heart didn’t care. The sight of Brandon pale and flushed, eyes heavy, did things to me I couldn’t name.

He blinked up at me, offering a small smile. “You’re…hovering.”

“Damn right, I am,” I said, kissing his temple. “Get used to it.”

Nyx settled back at the foot of the bed, curling protectively around Brandon’s legs. When he coughed softly, she lifted her head, golden eyes sharp, and gave a low growl as if warning the sickness itself to back off.

Mom laughed quietly. “Even Nyx is worried.”

He let out a tired laugh and tucked himself closer to me. “Just…don’t let her growl at me.”

“She’s not growling at you, baby,” I whispered, rocking him gently. “She’s guarding you. Like always.”

I looked at Nyx, at mom, then back down at the fragile warmth of my husband in my arms. And I swore silently to myself: Nothing, not even a fever, would get close to hurting him again.

The next hour passed in a blur of movement, voices, and heat.

“Where’s the fever coming from?” Dad asked, his voice low but steady as he crouched beside us.

“Woke up to Nyx whining,” I muttered, not loosening my hold on Bran. “She knew before I did.” My fingers carded through Brandon’s hair as I spoke, checking for any sign of worsening heat. “He was like this when I felt him.”

Dad’s eyes softened. “Good girl,” he murmured to Nyx, brushing his hand over her sleek black head before turning his focus fully to Bran. “Just keep him hydrated and resting. The cold here can be brutal for someone who isn’t used to it.”

Bran blinked groggily, trying to follow the conversation. “I’m right here, you know,” he mumbled, his voice scratchy and adorably indignant.

Mom’s lips curved in a small smile. “And we’re all here for you, darling. You just focus on getting better.” She smoothed the blanket around him with surprising gentleness for a woman who commanded one of the deadliest organizations in Russia.

“I can…sit up,” Bran tried again, his stubborn streak showing through even now.

“Absolutely not.” I tightened my arms around him, glaring as if daring him to try. “You stay exactly where you are, lotus flower.”

His blue eyes flicked up to mine, soft and resigned. “…You’re impossible.”

“And you’re sick,” I countered, kissing his damp forehead. “Which means I win.”

Mom chuckled quietly at our exchange while Dad rose, moving to the corner of the room where staff had brought in supplies. A tray appeared with steaming herbal tea, honey, and a cooling cloth. My grandparents arrived soon after, shuffling in with a mix of quiet worry and that trademark Sokolov pride they never set down.

Bran looked startled when he saw them, trying to push himself upright again.

“Stay down, sweetheart,” Grandma said, her tone warm.“We will come to you.”

To my utter shock, she sat on the edge of the bed, brushing Bran’s cheek like she’d done to me as a boy. “You look pale, my dear. You must take better care in this climate.”

“I…was reading outside,” Bran admitted sheepishly. “It felt nice in the sun, but maybe I stayed too long.”

Grandpa huffed, lowering himself into an armchair.
“Russian winters are tricky. Even sunlight here bites back.”

“Exactly,” I muttered, shooting him a look. “Which is why I told you to wear the scarf I gave you.”

Bran smiled weakly. “It didn’t match my sweater.”

My mouth fell open. “Oh, so you would rather freeze to death than clash?”

He laughed soft, breathless, but a laugh nonetheless. It was worth every moment of my panic earlier.

Mom handed me the tea, and I coaxed Bran to take a few careful sips. Nyx watched intently, her head resting on Bran’s legs as though she could lend him her strength by touch alone. When he coughed, she growled low in her throat, the sound vibrating through the mattress.

“Nyx,” Dad said gently, crouching beside her. “Easy, girl. He’s not in danger.”

She didn’t take her eyes off Bran, but the growl faded to a soft rumble.

Bran reached out a shaky hand, brushing it over her silky head. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m okay, Nyx.”

My murder cat stilled, pressing her head more firmly against his palm as if she understood. The entire room seemed to soften at the sight.

Grandma let out a sigh, her stern face breaking into a rare smile. “Well. If Nyx has accepted him this completely, I suppose there’s no doubt left.”

Bran blinked at her. “Doubt…about me?”

Grandpa chuckled, the sound surprisingly warm. “Nyx is the soul of this house. She trusts very few outside the bloodline. But you…” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “She would tear anyone apart for you.”

“Sounds familiar,” Dad muttered with a pointed look at me.

I didn’t even pretend to deny it. My arms tightened around Bran, my voice rough. “She’s not the only one.”

Bran’s cheeks flushed, not just from the fever this time.

The rest of the day blurred into a careful routine. Mom coordinated everything like a general, ensuring Bran had food, medicine, and warm blankets. Dad stayed close, bringing reports in and out but always pausing to check on us. My grandparents rotated in and out, sharing old stories to distract Bran when he was awake.

And me? I didn’t move unless absolutely necessary. Bran stayed curled in my lap, his head on my chest, my fingers tracing endless circles on his back. Every time his fever spiked, it felt like a knife in my ribs, but I didn’t let it show.

As night fell, the entire household seemed to settle into quiet vigilance. Nyx never left the room, her watchful presence like a living shadow. At one point, when Bran drifted into restless sleep, she climbed onto the bed fully and curled herself around his legs, purring so low it was more vibration than sound.

I met her gaze over Bran’s sleeping form. “Thank you,” I whispered.

Her golden eyes blinked slowly, as if to say: Protect him, and I protect you.

I kissed Bran’s temple, inhaling his familiar scent beneath the fever-sweat and medicine. “Sleep, lotus flower,” I murmured. “We’ve got you.”

Chapter Text

Brandon's POV

The house was quiet when I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Nikolai. His arm twitched, reaching instinctively for me in his sleep, but I pressed my hand softly to his chest, calming him, and whispered, “Sleep, Niko.” He didn’t stir again, just buried his face in the pillow, his hair falling into his eyes in that boyish, unguarded way I never got to see when he was awake.

The blanket slid from me, and I realized it wasn’t just fabric keeping me warm,it was Nyx. She had been curled around me all night, her black fur like living fire against the chill of winter. She blinked her golden eyes when I shifted, and the moment I put a foot on the floor, she rose too. No hesitation, just like my shadow.

In the kitchen, the early light seeped in through tall windows, painting everything in muted gold. I stretched my arms, determined to be useful, to give back something for all the love and care they’d wrapped me in. Nikolai hadn’t slept all night, I’d felt him brushing back my damp hair when the fever burned, pressing cool cloths against my forehead, holding me when shivers came. He deserved rest.

I opened the cupboards quietly, grateful to find they were stocked with everything. Eggs, bread, cheese, herbs. I decided on something simple but warm,an omelette, maybe, with toasted bread and tea. The kind of breakfast that smelled like home.

Nyx sat by the kitchen doorway, tail flicking slowly against the floor. Her gaze was sharp, tracking every move I made, as if deciding whether I was competent enough to be trusted near knives and a hot pan.

“You don’t have to supervise me,” I murmured with a small smile, cracking the first egg into a bowl. “I’ve cooked before.”

Her ear twitched, unimpressed. She didn’t move closer but didn’t leave either. Just sat like a black statue, glowing eyes locked on me. When I started whisking the eggs, her head tilted, a low rumble sounding in her throat, not threatening, but questioning.

I laughed softly under my breath. “Yes, I’ll make enough for you too. Don’t worry.”

Her tail thumped once against the floor, like approval, and I swear I saw her relax a little. For some reason, the thought of impressing her, this beast who’d been raised beside Nikolai, who trusted almost no one, made my chest warm.

The pan hissed as butter melted, the rich scent filling the kitchen. I worked slowly, mindful of the silence in the house, careful not to clang pans or make noise. It was strangely peaceful, standing there with Nyx, her steady presence grounding me.

Every now and then, I caught myself glancing at the doorway, half-expecting Nikolai to stumble in, hair messy, eyes still heavy with sleep, and scold me for leaving the bed. But he was resting. For once, he was resting. And I wanted to give him something gentle to wake to.

The kitchen filled with warmth long before the winter light fully settled in. The aroma of butter, herbs, and tea drifted through the halls, coaxing the still house awake. I plated the last omelette with care, laying the toast neatly beside it, and set the steaming teapot in the center of the table.

The first to appear were Nikolai’s grandparents. His grandfather came in with his slow, measured steps, silver hair catching the light, while his grandmother trailed with that regal posture she carried so naturally. Their eyes softened the moment they saw me, still at the stove, Nyx draped like a shadow at my feet.

“Brandon,sweetheart” his grandmother breathed, relief lacing her voice. “You’re up?”

I turned with a gentle smile, wiping my hands on a towel. “Good morning. Yes, I’m feeling much better today.”

His grandfather’s sharp gaze swept me over, as if confirming the truth for himself. “You should be in bed,” he said, but the sternness faltered into something more tender. “You worried us last night.”

“I’m well now, truly,” I reassured softly. “And I wanted to do something for all of you.”

His grandmother’s eyes glistened, but she didn’t argue. She reached out, brushing her hand lightly over my shoulder before sitting down, as though she couldn’t resist making sure I was really standing there, healthy and whole.

Moments later, Nikolai’s parents entered, the house felt lighter the second they did, their presence both commanding and comforting. Rai’s eyes softened instantly when she saw me.

“Brandon,” she said, and though her tone was meant to be scolding, there was no hiding the relief threading through it. “What are you doing out of bed? You should still be resting.”

Kyle frowned, though it was more worry than irritation. “You ran a fever, and now you’re in the kitchen?” He shook his head, moving closer. “You’ll exhaust yourself.”

I laughed gently, keeping my voice low so it didn’t feel like defiance, only reassurance. “I promise I’m fine. See? No fever. Just a little sleepy, but otherwise… well.” I handed them each a plate. “Sit. Please, I made breakfast for you.”

The fussing didn’t stop immediately, but it softened into acceptance once they realized I wasn’t wavering on my feet. Their eyes kept lingering on me as if checking for cracks, but when I smiled, they finally gave in, seating themselves at the table with murmurs of gratitude.

Nyx, however, was not content with omelette. She prowled closer, eyes fixed on me. I chuckled and reached for the plate I’d set aside for her,some slices of meat.

“Here you go,” I murmured, lowering it.

Everyone froze.

Nyx stepped forward, sniffed once, and then deliberate, slowly took the meat from my hand. Not with suspicion, not with her usual sharp reserve. With trust. She ate in silence, sitting back at my side like a guardian at ease.

The room was hushed for a moment, and then grandmother’s lips parted. “She… she let you feed her?”

Kyle leaned forward, astonishment in his eyes. “She’s never...Brandon, do you know what this means? Nyx doesn’t even accept food from me.”

Heat flushed my cheeks, though I couldn’t quite stop the small, shy smile tugging at my lips.

The disbelief that circled the table was almost comical, but before anyone could respond, footsteps padded into the kitchen heavy, dragging, familiar.

Nikolai, hair a dark tumble around his face, blue eyes still heavy with sleep, shuffled in with the expression of a man who had just lost his favorite dream. The sight of me at the stove erased the last of his grogginess, though.

“Lotus flower,” he groaned dramatically, striding forward. Before I could react, his arms wrapped around me, lifting me half off the ground in a crushing bear hug. His face pressed into my neck, warm breath brushing my skin. “Why would you leave me alone in bed?”

I laughed softly, caught between embarrassment at his open display in front of his family and the way my heart melted at his sleepy neediness. “Niko, I was just making breakfast..”

“Traitor,” he muttered into my shoulder, refusing to let go. “The bed was cold. I was cold. You’re not allowed to leave me.”

Nyx gave a lick to his hand.

Everyone else just smiled knowingly, their earlier worry dissolving into fondness at the scene, me held captive in Nikolai’s arms, his wild devotion bared without shame.

And though I should’ve protested, I leaned back against him, letting him hold me, warmth blooming in my chest that had nothing to do with the winter sun spilling through the windows.

Eventually, I coaxed Nikolai toward the table. He didn’t release me right away, only kept an arm looped lazily around my waist as though I might vanish if he didn’t. When I moved to sit beside him, he gave a low, dissatisfied grumble, tugging me closer until our chairs brushed.

“Better,” he muttered, finally letting me settle into my own seat but his hand stayed firmly on my thigh, warm and unmoving, thumb tracing idle circles against the fabric of my pants.

I tried to reach for my fork, but before I could, he snagged it himself, stabbing into the omelette with the precision of someone only half-awake. He held it out toward me. “Eat.”

I blinked. “I can feed myself, Niko.”

“No,” he countered, blue eyes heavy with sleep but stubborn. “You left me. I’m still punishing you.”

The table erupted in chuckles. His grandmother’s laugh tinkled like silver, his mother shaking her head in exasperated fondness.

“You’re impossible,” I whispered, but leaned forward and took the bite anyway. His smug smile was immediate, like victory tasted better on my lips than his own.

The chatter at the breakfast table flowed easily, warmth weaving between cups of steaming tea and the clink of cutlery. Nikolai stayed close at my side, his hand never leaving mine or my thigh. Nyx lounged under the table, her head against my foot like she’d decided this was her new station.

Conversation meandered from small details of the estate to stories from the past. Nikolai’s grandmother was telling me about the winter balls they used to host when Nikolai was just a boy, how he would sulk at the idea of wearing tailored suits. I laughed softly, glancing at him from the corner of my eye.

“Still sulks,” I murmured.

His hand squeezed mine, and he bent close enough for only me to hear. “You like me better without the suits anyway.”

I flushed and tried not to choke on my tea. The smug gleam in his eyes told me he’d noticed.

The conversation drifted again, this time toward the arts. They mentioned the grand hall at the back of the estate. Grandma sighed about how it used to echo with music. “Your mother and I played together,” she said fondly to her husband. “Violin and piano. It gave the house soul.”

At the word piano, something in me flickered. I didn’t even realize I’d straightened a little, or that my eyes had sparked with that familiar brightness that always came when music was mentioned, until Nikolai’s grandfather leaned forward, sharp as ever in noticing the smallest things.

“Brandon,” he said, voice warm but pointed, “do you play?”

Heat rushed to my face. “No… not really. I’ve only listened, but I’ve always wanted to. The piano is...it’s beautiful. But I never had the chance.” My voice trailed softer, the admission feeling too raw, too earnest in a room like this.

For a heartbeat, silence stretched. Then Nikolai squeezed my hand again, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. His eyes, impossibly blue, shone with pride ,not mockery, not surprise, but the kind of pride that made my chest ache.

His grandfather’s lips curved into the faintest smile. “Would you like to try? We have one in the music room, still tuned.”

My blush deepened. “Oh, I… I wouldn’t want to disturb anyone.”

“You wouldn’t disturb us,” his grandmother interjected quickly, her tone decisive but kind. “Music belongs in this house again. And if it comes from you, I think it will be most welcome.”

Even Rai leaned closer, her eyes unexpectedly soft. “Brandon, you should. There’s no need to be shy.”

Kyle nodded in agreement. “If it makes you happy, then it matters.”

I tried to hide behind my tea, but the heat in my chest spread until it felt impossible not to smile. Their encouragement settled over me like a blanket, both terrifying and comforting.

“I suppose,” I murmured, unable to fight the spark of excitement that betrayed me again, “I could try.”

Beside me, Nikolai pressed a kiss against my temple, his voice low and proud. “You’ll be brilliant, lotus flower. I’ll sit with you the whole time.”

Nyx gave a quiet huff, as if she too approved of the idea.

And in that moment, surrounded by a family I never thought would be mine, I realized they weren’t just tolerating me, they were rooting for me.

The rest of breakfast carried on with easy conversation, but the thought lingered in the air like a soft melody waiting to be played. Every time my eyes flicked toward the hallway that led deeper into the estate, toward the music room they’d mentioned, my chest warmed with equal parts nerves and excitement.

And that was the way my piano lessons with Nikolai’s grandparents began gently, without pressure, but with a steady hand guiding me toward the keys. It started not as expectation, but as an invitation, and perhaps, a new rhythm I hadn’t known I’d been waiting for.

It had been two weeks since that breakfast. Two weeks since I admitted, with a flush on my cheeks, that I’d always wanted to learn piano. And in those two weeks, the rhythm of the estate had shifted ever so slightly.

The mornings no longer belonged only to tea and soft conversation. They now carried the sound of hesitant notes echoing through the halls. At first, it was awkward my fingers stiff, my posture unsure. But Nikolai’s grandparents were patient in a way I hadn’t expected. His grandmother guided me with a gentleness that soothed my nerves, and his grandfather, though sharp-eyed and precise, carried the kind of strictness that felt like care rather than burden.

“Don’t fight the keys,” his grandmother would say, her cool fingers pressing lightly over mine. “They’re not an enemy. They’re a conversation. Listen to what they say back.”

And slowly, I did.

Today, the sun was bright against the frosted windows as I sat at the polished piano in the music room. The instrument was older than me, but it gleamed with care, its ivory keys smooth beneath my fingertips. A page of simple sheet music rested on the stand, notes clear though they still blurred in my head.

Nikolai was sprawled on the velvet settee nearby, his long frame folded carelessly, head tipped back like he wasn’t paying attention. But I knew better. His eyes, half-lidded and sharp even in laziness, were fixed entirely on me. He pretended to be disinterested, but every time my fingers found the right sequence of notes, his mouth curled into the smallest, proudest smile.

Nyx lay at his feet, a silent shadow, her golden eyes shifting between me and the doorway as if guarding not just me, but the music itself.

“Good,” his grandfather’s voice cut through my wandering thoughts. “You’re rushing your left hand, but the right is beginning to flow.”

I glanced up, embarrassed. “I can’t seem to get them to move together.”

“That will come,” his grandmother soothed. “Play it again. Slowly this time. Don’t chase the melody let it come to you.”

So I did. My hands trembled less now, and though I stumbled, there were moments small, shining moments when the sound came together. When the notes hummed in harmony, filling the room with something fragile but alive.

Behind me, Nikolai exhaled a sound that was almost reverent. I didn’t dare look at him, but I felt it, the weight of his attention, the way his pride filled the room as tangibly as the music.

When I finished, hands falling from the keys, silence stretched. Then his grandfather nodded once, sharp and approving. “Again tomorrow. You have the ear for it, Brandon. All that remains is the discipline.”

Heat climbed my neck. “Thank you,” I murmured, uncertain how to meet that kind of praise.

His grandmother reached over, touching my shoulder with a light squeeze. “You play with heart. That cannot be taught it is given. We will refine the rest.”

I smiled then, small but genuine. And for the first time, I didn’t feel like an outsider being allowed to touch something sacred. I felt… part of it.

“Lotus flower,” Nikolai’s voice broke the moment, low and husky with sleep but full of amusement. I turned to find him sitting upright now, blue eyes sharp and wicked. “You’re showing off. Trying to seduce me with music, hm?”

I flushed. “Niko...”

He grinned, leaning forward with elbows on his knees. “It’s working.”

His grandparents both sighed in unison, and his grandmother muttered something about “that boy never changing,” but her eyes still softened with affection.

I laughed despite myself, shaking my head as I gathered the sheets of music. But inside, warmth spread through me because in this house of shadows and power, I was learning not just music, but belonging.

And if Nikolai wanted to believe every halting note was meant for him alone… maybe he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Chapter Text

Nikolai’s POV

The evening had settled over the mansion with the quiet weight of snow. Outside, the world had folded into silver and white, each breath of wind carrying soft whispers through the frozen pines. Inside, warmth bloomed from the hearth, a steady pulse of amber light that spilled across the dark furniture, softening even the edges of marble and steel that marked our home.

The air smelled faintly of cinnamon and tea leaves, the kind Bran always brewed when he wanted everyone to feel at ease. I sat back in one of the leather chairs near the fire, legs stretched out, one hand lazily holding my mug. I wasn’t really drinking. My eyes, as usual, were elsewhere , on him.

He was bundled in one of those oversized sweaters he loved so much, sleeves almost covering his fingers. His hair caught the firelight in faint honey tones, and his breath came out in little clouds every time he laughed softly at something my grandma said.

Everyone was here ,Mom and Dad seated close together on the couch my grandparents, both upright and regal even in their years and Nyx, sprawled across the thick fur rug like a shadow come alive. The fire cracked and hissed in rhythm, the only other sound in the room.

It was peace. The kind of peace that never truly lasted in this house. But tonight, I wanted to believe it could.

Bran’s laughter quieted after a while. I noticed his hands had tucked closer into his sleeves again that little tell of his that meant he was getting cold. The fire wasn’t close enough to reach him fully from where he sat. He hesitated for a moment, glancing toward the flames, then to Nyx, who had taken up half the space near the fireplace, her body coiled protectively in her makeshift nest of furs.

I watched as Bran stood, adjusting the hem of his sweater, his expression careful, polite like he didn’t want to disturb her.

Nyx’s ears flicked at the movement. Her eyes opened, molten gold against the glow of the fire.

Bran stopped a few feet away. He rubbed his arms, smiling at her with that hesitant kindness that made him so devastatingly human. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked softly, as if she understood.

And she did.

Nyx stretched her massive form, her claws flexing against the rug before she shifted, dragging one of the thick furs aside. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, she nudged it forward with her paw ,a deliberate gesture, an unspoken come closer.

Dad lowered his cup mid-sip. Mom’s brows lifted ever so slightly, a glimmer of surprise flickering in her usually composed eyes. My grandfather murmured something in Russian under his breath, low and impressed.

And I just… stared.

Nyx never invited anyone into her space. Her nest was sacred. Even grandma, who had raised her from a cub, kept a respectful distance from it. Nyx had allowed only me to curl up beside her warmth.

But Bran?
He took a slow step forward, his blue eyes wide and unsure, glancing at me as if silently asking if it was really okay. I couldn’t even manage words. I nodded once, maybe twice, because my throat had gone tight.

Nyx huffed, a sound that was halfway between a growl and a purr, and nudged him again.

Bran’s lips parted in disbelief before a small laugh slipped out. He moved closer, sinking to his knees beside her, his breath fogging in the golden light. Nyx lowered her head, pressing her nose briefly to his shoulder, and then unbelievably pulled him gently into the curve of her body.

“She’s territorial today,” Dad murmured, a lazy warning half-smile tugging at his lips.

Grandma's brow rose in mild astonishment. “She’s never done that before.”

Nyx purred ,an actual deep vibrating purr, and then began to scent him, rubbing her massive head against Brandon’s shoulder, then neck.Her tail curled protectively around him, the tip flicking lazily in satisfaction.

Brandon giggled, soft and surprised, trying not to fall over as her strength nearly pushed him into the blankets. “Nyx! That tickles...”

With soft surrender that was so uniquely his, he relaxed against her warmth. His fingers slipped into her fur, petting her slowly, reverently.

Bran’s expression softened, his lashes lowering as the tension bled out of him. He smiled faintly, tilting his head against her side, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re warmer than the fire, you know that?”

Nyx’s tail flicked, brushing lightly against his arm, and he laughed again a quiet, pure sound that hit me somewhere deep in the chest.

I couldn’t look away.

For years, Nyx had been the symbol of my world fierce, loyal, untouchable. She had guarded me through chaos, through blood and war and the kind of darkness that stained men forever. She didn’t bend. She didn’t yield.

Until now.

She had yielded to him.

My Bran.

The room had fallen into a hush that wasn’t awkward, just… awed. My grandma’s smile softened, faint but genuine, and my mother exchanged a look with her that said everything words didn’t need to.

I leaned back, feeling something warm and foreign spread through my chest pride, affection, disbelief, all tangled together.

Nyx shifted, wrapping her tail around Bran’s legs, her paw resting across his lap like a claim.

And Bran, radiant even in stillness, just melted further into her.

When he looked up, catching my gaze across the room, he smiled small, shy, a little sleepy and mouthed, she’s so soft.

I couldn’t help but laugh, low and quiet.

“You’ve bewitched her, lotus flower,” I murmured, not sure if I wanted him to hear it.

But he did. He always did.

He tilted his head, eyes glimmering in the firelight. “You sound jealous,” he teased, voice light and gentle.

“Terribly,” I said, honest and unashamed.

He laughed again, soft and melodic, before turning his attention back to Nyx, petting her head until her eyes drooped in contentment.

And in that golden, firelit calm with snow drifting beyond the windows, with laughter melting the cold edges of the room, I realized something I hadn’t before.

It wasn’t just that Bran had been accepted. It wasn’t even that he’d tamed Nyx, or softened my family’s rigid world.

It was that he belonged here.

Truly and completely.

Like the light that finds its way into dark corners without even trying.

“Comfortable?” I asked.

He nodded. “Too much,” he mumbled, leaning into me.

Nyx made a noise of protest when I brushed my fingers through Bran’s hair, as if telling me to be careful.

I smirked. “Relax, Nyx. He’s mine.”

She gave me a look that was unmistakably unimpressed one golden eye half-lidded, tail thumping once against the rug and I laughed quietly.

The fire cracked again, louder this time, and outside, the last bit of sunlight vanished behind the horizon. The room dimmed into a world of warm gold and deep amber. My family’s voices drifted back into quiet conversation, but I stayed there crouched beside Bran and Nyx, the two beings who somehow managed to calm every storm I’d ever carried.

For the first time in a long, long while, the night didn’t feel heavy. It didn’t feel dangerous or fleeting.

It felt like home.

Nyx made a low sound, one that vibrated like thunder through the quiet, and then pressed her head against his arm.After a long breath, she lifted her head, narrowed her eyes like she was evaluating her next move, and then without hesitation licked him.

Brandon flinched, startled, and wiped at his cheek, trying to look annoyed but failing miserably as laughter threatened to break through. “She’s definitely like someone I know,” he muttered, eyes sliding toward me.

The room erupted in laughter before he even finished the sentence.

I grinned, leaning forward in my chair. “Oh? And who would that be?” I asked, pretending innocence that fooled absolutely no one.

Brandon gave me that look soft, accusing, too fond for its own good and that was enough invitation for me.

Before he could back away, I bent down and kissed his temple once… then shamelessly licked the other cheek, slow and deliberate, just to watch his expression.

Brandon’s scandalized gasp was swallowed by everyone’s laughter. Nyx tilted her head, as if amused by the mimicry, and settled down again with a pleased noise that sounded suspiciously like approval.

Brandon glared at me, though the corners of his lips betrayed him. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” I murmured, sliding closer, “you married me.”

That earned another round of laughter softer this time, filled with the kind of warmth that only comes from love too strong to be hidden. I didn’t care that everyone was watching when I wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged him gently toward me.

He didn’t resist.

Nyx shifted to make room for us, her tail curling around Brandon’s side as if sealing her approval. I sank down beside them in her nest, the furs warm beneath us, the fire crackling softly. Brandon leaned against me, still flushed from embarrassment but smiling.

The conversation flowed easily after that bits of family chatter, gentle teasing from my grandparents about “taming wild creatures,” both feline and human. I let it wash over me, listening to their laughter mix with the fire’s rhythm.

Brandon’s head tipped against my shoulder, and I turned just enough to brush a kiss over his hair. Nyx’s breathing evened beside us, her massive frame curled protectively around our sides.

Brandon was absently running his fingers through Nyx’s fur, the sleek black coat gleaming like spilled ink in the firelight. Nyx, for her part, was entirely melted under his touch eyes half-lidded, chest rising and falling in deep, unguarded peace.

Brandon broke the quiet first, his voice curious, soft.“Can I ask something?”

Mom’s lips curved. “You may ask anything, dear.”

Brandon hesitated, his fingers stilling against Nyx’s neck. “How did you… how did you get her? I mean..” His tone faltered for a second, glancing up at my grandparents. “She’s extraordinary. I’ve never seen an animal like her.”

A faint chuckle escaped my grandpa. “Ah,” he said, leaning back, his eyes glinting with the kind of memory that’s half nostalgia, half reverence. “That one’s a story.”

Brandon perked up immediately, he always did at the promise of stories. I felt his body lean forward slightly, his hand still resting on Nyx’s fur.

Grandpa’s gaze slid toward me for a brief moment, then back to the flames. “It was many years ago… when our family went hunting in the Siberian woods. Your Nikolai was just a boy then, ten, maybe eleven. It was one of those winters when the snow came early and heavy.”

Even dad looked up at that, quiet, as if the memory pulled him in too.

Grandpa continued, his voice slow, rhythmic, like the crackle of the fire. “We were tracking an elk that day when Nyx’s mother found us first, a magnificent black panther, not native to those forests. We later realized she must’ve escaped from an illegal trade. She had cubs with her… but they were being hunted. Wild animals had cornered them near the ridge.”

Brandon’s breath caught. “Wild animals?”

Grandpa nodded. “Big ones. Hungry. We managed to drive them off, but not before they’d done their damage. Nyx’s mother was gravely injured. She… fought to the very last breath to protect her cubs. When we reached them, only one was still alive.”

He looked down at the great black creature now sprawled at our feet. “That one.”

Nyx gave a faint growl then not angry, just low, almost as if she understood her name being spoken in such a way. Brandon’s eyes softened, his hand moving with even more tenderness.

“She was small enough to fit in both palms,” my grandma murmured, her voice threaded with fondness. “Terrified, starved, but she bit Nikolai’s finger the first time he tried to feed her.”

That earned a round of quiet laughter. I smirked at the memory. “She still does, sometimes.”

Dad chuckled low. “She has always been particular.”

Grandpa’s gaze softened as he looked between us. “We didn’t intend for her to become what she is. But she grew fast, strong… and she never forgot how to fight. She trained herself alongside the guards, shadowing Nikolai wherever he went. She guards the estate better than any of us could.”

Brandon had gone very quiet by then. His eyes always too expressive for their own good, shimmered with something gentle, something achingly human.

He reached out slowly, his palm resting along the sleek curve of Nyx’s neck. “You’re incredible, aren’t you?” he whispered, so softly it felt like a secret. “You lost everything, and still learned how to protect.”

Nyx made a sound then a deep, resonant hum that vibrated through the air. Her tail flicked once before she pressed her head into Brandon’s palm.

I watched, mesmerized, as she melted under his touch. Her breathing slowed, eyes fluttering shut as if the warmth of his hand was the only comfort that mattered.

“She’s enjoying that,” mom said quietly, the corner of her mouth lifting. “She never lets anyone touch her like that.”

Dad nodded.“Not even the trainers.”

Brandon smiled, shyly, almost uncertain. “She’s soft… in her own way.”

I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me. “Like someone else I know,” I murmured near his ear.

He blushed, the pink spreading beautifully across his cheeks. But Nyx, utterly content, shifted closer and laid her head across Brandon’s lap. His fingers instinctively threaded through her fur again, slow and rhythmic.

The fire popped. Outside, snow drifted past the windows, heavy and soundless.

Bran was still petting Nyx, his fingers moving absently through her fur, like he hadn’t even realized how deeply he’d sunk into her space. Her breathing matched his now slow, heavy, perfectly calm. And somehow… that sight made something inside my chest stretch, warm and wide.

I leaned forward, unable to hold the buzz of excitement that rose in me.
“How about,” I said, grinning, “we go hunting.”

Bran blinked at me, wide-eyed, the firelight catching the gold in his lashes. “In this weather?” he asked, half-incredulous.

“Yes,” I said immediately, like it was the best idea I’d ever had. “This is the perfect kind of weather. Quiet. Cold. Fresh tracks in the snow. It’s beautiful out there this time of year.”

Dad chuckled low, already nodding. “He’s right. Fresh snow makes it easier to track. And it’s been a long time since the family went out together.”

Grandpa hummed in agreement. “A hunting trip… I like that.”

But before Bran could even answer, a loud, familiar voice echoed through the hall smug and unmistakable.
“Did someone mention hunting?”

Every head turned toward the entrance.

And there they were.

Killian Carson, leaning against the doorframe like he owned the damn place, wearing his usual grin sharp, lazy, dangerous in that way only he managed to pull off. Beside him, Gaz strode in with that effortless, devil-may-care confidence, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, eyes glinting with amusement.

Bran’s face lit up in surprised delight, while my face broke into a grin. “You two...” I didn’t even finish before I got up and strode toward them.

Killian’s grin widened. “Missed us already, cousin?”

Gareth gave a mock salute. “Try not to cry.”

I punched Killian in the shoulder just hard enough to make him stumble back half a step, and he laughed, throwing an arm around my shoulder in return.

Dad raised an amused brow. “We weren’t expecting you two...”

Killian shrugged, his grin never faltering. “we planned to travel together but Everyone else’s busy. Glyn’s off dazzling the art world, Kayden got trapped in a business deal with Dad, and Mom decided to stay behind. So… you get the best part of the Carson clan.”

Gareth lifted a hand. “You’re welcome.”

Laughter rolled around the room. Bran was still sitting in Nyx’s nest, Nyx herself sprawled across his lap like a living shadow.

Killian noticed nyx and said, " if isn't niko's murder cat..."
And then it happened.

The second Killian took a single step toward them, just a step, Nyx’s ears twitched. Her body went still, and the growl that came out of her throat was deep and resonant, like thunder crawling out of the earth.

It was the same one she used when anyone came too close to me as a kid, back when her shadow was bigger than mine and her teeth were my only line of defense.

But this time, she wasn’t guarding me.
She was guarding him.
My Bran sitting cross-legged inside her nest, wrapped in her warmth like he’d belong just there.

Killian froze mid-step, his eyebrows shooting up.
“Uh...what the hell, Niko? She’s growling at me like I just insulted her ancestors.”

I leaned back trying not to grin, though the amusement simmering in my chest was impossible to hide.
“Maybe you did.”

Nyx’s fur bristled, her gaze tracking Killian like a sniper’s scope. The growls didn’t stop until Bran reached up, fingers brushing against her jaw in that gentle, steady way of his.

“Nyx,” he murmured, voice soft enough to melt the ice on the windows. “He’s a friend. Kind of.”

The “kind of” earned a snort from Gaz.
Killian glared. “You’re all enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Oh, immensely,” I said, resting my chin on my knuckles.

Bran gave a small laugh, the sound so light it nearly tugged the smile out of me completely. He scratched behind Nyx’s ear, and that terrifying beast, that trained killer who’d once mauled a bear ,let out a purr.

I’d seen Nyx snap jaws off in training, but never this puppy play.

Killian blinked. “Are you seeing this?”

“She likes him,” I said simply, shrugging.

“ what? ‘Likes him’? Niko, she was about to murder me two seconds ago, and now she’s acting like a cuddly cat with your husband!”

“Sounds like good judgment to me,” I replied.

Killian lifted both hands in mock surrender. “This is personal betrayal. I used to give her treats!”

“She almost bit your fingers off,” Gaz reminded him helpfully.

“That was once!” Killian hissed.

Nyx shifted again, pressing her head to Bran’s lap as if asking for more attention. He obliged, fingers threading through her glossy fur, completely oblivious to the chaos his tenderness stirred. My chest warmed just watching it, the contrast of him and her. The gentlest soul taming the wildest creature I’d ever known.

Then Killian muttered something under his breath, “What’s she gonna do next, lick him?”

And as if summoned by sheer cosmic humor, Nyx leaned forward and licked Bran right across his cheek.

I laughed slow, shameless, unrepentant and leaned in close enough for him to feel my breath.

“Can’t have her stealing my moves, baby,” I murmured before licking the same cheek Nyx had claimed.

Bran gasped, swatting at me. “Niko!”

The whole room burst into laughter ,Gaz doubling over, Killian cursing through his grin.

I pressed another kiss to Bran’s temple, then slid down beside him in Nyx’s nest, ignoring her warning rumble. She relented after a second, letting me sit close enough that Bran was between us warm, safe, mine. Oh actually, ours.

The conversations around us picked back up again ,hunting plans, family jokes, the familiar rhythm of chaos that somehow always felt like home.

“So,” Killian said, stretching his legs out with a grin, “about that hunting trip…”

“Tomorrow morning,” dad said with a nod. “Before dawn. If you boys can wake up early.”

Gaz smirked. “Please. We were born ready.”

Killian leaned forward, rubbing his hands together like a kid handed his favorite toy. “This is going to be fun.”

I looked at Bran, his head tilted toward me, his expression a mix of amusement and mild disbelief.

He shook his head. “You’re all insane,” he murmured.

I grinned, leaning in closer. “You love that.”

His lips curved, soft and easy. “Unfortunately,” he whispered back.

And just like that, between the laughter, the firelight, and Nyx’s quiet purrs, the next event of our life settled itself neatly into place, a hunting trip in the snow, with family, chaos, and Brandon right in the middle of it all.

Chapter Text

Nikolai’s POV

The morning broke in silver.
Sunlight spilled through the windows, coating the floors in pale reflection, and the kind of cold that bit through bone pressed softly against the glass. Russia had its own way of reminding you who ruled here ,the cold, always the cold.

We didn’t go far for the hunt. The Sokolov grounds were endless, the forest beyond the mansion sprawling into a white wilderness that belonged to us as much as the blood in our veins did. You could walk for hours and never see another soul ,only tall trees bowing under snow, frozen streams catching the morning sun, and the echo of your own breath.

That was our hunting ground.
That was home.

By the time we arrived, the sky was a washed-out gray, carrying the promise of more snow. Everyone had layered up thick wool, fur collars, gloves stiff from the chill.

Bran stood beside me, a bright patch of warmth in all that frost. He was bundled in a heavy beige long coat that swallowed his frame, cheeks tinted pink from the cold. His breath came out in little clouds as he looked around, eyes wide, curious, and so achingly gentle that even the frost seemed to soften under his gaze.

Nyx prowled around him.
I swear she was smiling or her version of it anyway, the corner of her mouth curved slightly upward as she circled Bran, brushing against his leg now and then as if reminding him she was there.

Killian’s voice broke the quiet first.
“Well, would you look at that. Nyx’s not even pretending anymore. She’s basically giving Bran a guided tour.”

Gaz laughed, breath fogging in the air. “At this point, I think she’s considering leaving Niko for him.”

Bran narrowed his pretty eyes at both of them. “She’s just being friendly.”

“Friendly,” Killian repeated, mockingly thoughtful. “Right. Because every time anyone tried to go near her , she either growls or disappears. But you, Bran, are getting a whole royal escort through the woods.I feel like we’re intruding on something sacred.”

Gaz smirked. “At least she’s not growling at you this time,kill.”

“Yet,” Killian added, eyeing her warily.

Bran smiled, half hiding his face in his scarf. “She’s just excited, I think.”

Mom’s voice drifted in again, amused and teasing. “Excited, yes, but also proud. She wants to show you everything, sweetheart. You belong to her now too.She wouldn’t let anyone else this close.”

The whole group laughed softly, except me. I couldn’t laugh when the truth felt so loud in my chest.

He belonged to Nyx, yes.
But he belonged to me first.

Every time his gloved fingers brushed mine, every time his voice broke the silence with some soft comment, something primal in me reacted. The snow, the hunt, my family ,it all faded behind him.

This was supposed to be a simple morning hunt. But I wasn’t paying attention to the rifles or the path or the rules.
I was watching my lotus flower.
The way his breath fogged in the cold, the way his boots sank into the snow, how Nyx’s shadow followed his.

We reached the clearing not long after. The forest opened into a wide space bathed in white, sunlight filtering weakly through the clouds, scattering diamonds across the snow. Grandpa stopped and gestured for everyone to fan out.

“This will do,” he said, satisfaction in his tone.

The cold stung my cheeks as I took it in, the endless expanse of silver, the sound of branches cracking under ice, the faint breath of wind. It was beautiful. Deadly, but beautiful just like the people who ruled it.

Bran glanced at me, eyes wide in quiet awe. “It’s so beautiful,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” I said softly looking only at him. “It really is.”

Because how could I look at the world when my whole world was already standing beside me.

And It was all peaceful until nyx decided to commit homicide.
Which was when she suddenly froze, nose lifted to the air, and bolted into the trees without warning ,Brandon’s head snapped up so fast he nearly lost his balance.

“Nyx?” he called, voice muffled behind his scarf. He turned in a small circle, peering into the tree line. “Where’d she go? Is she going to be okay?”

“She’s fine,” I said, smiling faintly at the way his brows drew together. “She probably smelled something. She does that all the time.”

Bran frowned, eyes still scanning the distance. “But she just ran off. What if she gets hurt?”

Killian snorted. “Hurt? That beast? The only thing getting hurt out there is whatever she’s chasing.”

Bran gave him a small, worried look. “Still…”

“She’ll come back,” I promised, stepping closer so my shoulder brushed his. “She always does.”

And right on cue, the sound of crunching snow came from the forest.
Nyx emerged a moment later, head high, chest puffed out, dragging something limp and brown through the snow.

Bran froze.His breath caught.
“Oh my...” he whispered. “Is that?”

“Yep,” Gaz said with zero hesitation. “That’s a rabbit.”

Nyx stopped in front of Bran, tail wagging, and dropped it at his boots. The poor thing was still warm enough to steam against the snow.

Brandon looked from the rabbit to Nyx and back again, face twisting somewhere between horror and disbelief. “She...she killed it?”

Killian was already laughing. “Not just killed it. She gifted it. That’s true love, right there.”

“Love?” Bran squeaked. “She just murdered something!”

“It’s a compliment,” I said, biting down a laugh. “That’s how Nyx show affection.”

Bran blinked at me like I’d lost my mind. “By killing things?”

Killian grinned. “Welcome to the family, sunshine.”

Bran turned helplessly toward me again, scarf slipping down as his voice climbed a little higher. “What am I supposed to do? Say thank you?”

“Yes,” I said, dead serious.

He stared at me. “You’re kidding.”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

Killian cut in, smug. “You always look like you’re brooding, not kidding.”

I gave him a look. “Keep talking and you’ll be the next offering.”

Gaz laughed out loud. “Now that would be a sight.”

Bran still hadn’t moved. “She’s staring at me,” he whispered, as Nyx’s bright golden eyes fixed on him expectantly.

“She’s waiting,lotus.” I said, amusement curling in my voice. “If you don’t take it, she’ll think you didn’t like her gift.”

“So I have to...what...accept it?”

Killian doubled over. “Pick it up, King! Don’t break her heart!”

Bran shot me the most betrayed look imaginable. “Niko..”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “Just… pat her head and say thank you. That’s all she wants.”

He hesitated, then crouched gingerly, making a small noise of discomfort as he did.
“Nyx,” he murmured, voice soft and careful, “I appreciate it, but… maybe next time we can stick to sticks, yeah?”

Nyx wagged her tail harder, pressing her nose into his hand.
Bran exhaled, half horrified, half charmed.

Killian leaned toward me with a smirk. “You’re so whipped it’s embarrassing.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, though I was smiling too.

“Maybe she’s trying to feed him,” Killian said, amusement curling his voice. “You know, in case the Sokolovs forgot to provide breakfast.”

“She’s overachieving,” Gaz added dryly.

“I think she’s trying to marry him,” Killian countered.

I scowled at them both. “Keep talking, and I’ll feed you to her next.”

Mom laughed softly. “Boys, enough. Let Nyx have her moment. She’s just showing affection.”

Bran smiled nervously, brushing snow off his gloves. “Affection is one thing. But I’m really hoping she doesn’t expect me to return the favor.”

The air filled with quiet laughter even Grandpa looked amused, smoke curling from his pipe as he shook his head.
Brandon’s cheeks were pink from the cold and the embarrassment, his hands buried in Nyx’s fur like he’d given up on pretending to understand any of us.

It started as fun, Nyx proudly bringing Bran her first prey, everyone teasing, laughter echoing through the frozen trees.

But by the time she returned with her third “gift,” the forest had gone too still.

A snow hare this time, limp and perfectly intact, dropped neatly at Bran’s boots like a tribute to a king.

Bran’s face twisted somewhere between horror and heartbreak. “Oh no, Nyx… sweetheart, you didn’t have to...” He crouched, hands flailing helplessly as if unsure whether to touch the offering or not. “You really didn’t have to.”

Bran looked at me with wide, pleading eyes that said please make her stop killing things for me. I had to bite back a grin.

“She loves you,” I told him simply, walking over and brushing my gloved fingers against his arm. “It’s an honor, baby. She only does that for people she accepts as her own.”

“She’s accepted me three times since sunrise,” Bran whispered, horrified.

“Then she really loves you.”

Nyx purred low, pleased with herself, and pressed her huge head against his leg. He sighed, defeated, and bent down to stroke her fur anyway. His kindness always outweighed his disgust. Even covered in snow and blood, she looked like she’d just been blessed by him.

If anyone had told me years ago that this deadly creature would one day worship someone else more than me, I’d have laughed in their face. But watching her shadow Bran like his second heartbeat… it didn’t even bother me anymore.

It thrilled me.

Because Nyx had good instincts.
And if she’d chosen him, then my world is secured.

“She’s very proud of herself,” I said, crouching to scratch behind Nyx’s ear. She huffed happily, tail swishing like a metronome, clearly waiting for praise.

Bran, on the other hand, looked like he was reconsidering all his life choices. “Niko,” he said slowly, staring down at the blood-specked snow, “you need to tell your murder cat that I have seen enough dead things for one lifetime.”

Killian snorted. “Good luck with that. She’s on a roll.”

“I mean it,” Bran groaned. “If she brings me one more, I’m runningaway.”

Gaz leaned lazily against a tree, voice full of amusement. “You’d have to get past her first.”

Bran turned to me, pleading. “Niko, I’m serious.”

I was about to tease him again, maybe promise to “negotiate” with Nyx, when she lifted her head suddenly nose twitching, ears pricked and bolted straight back into the woods.

Bran’s eyes widened in sheer horror. “Oh no. No, no, not again.”

“Relax, lotus flower,” I started, barely hiding a grin. “She’ll..”

But Bran was already moving.

He spun on his heel, muttering something about not being emotionally prepared for a fourth murder, and began marching in the opposite direction his coat flapping, boots crunching in the snow.

“lotus!” I called, half laughing. “Where are you going?”

“Away from her!” he yelled back, not slowing down. “Before she decides to drag a moose next time!”

That set everyone off. Gaz was wheezing, Killian doubled over in laughter, and even Grandpa was chuckling quietly under his breath.

“Brandon, she just wants to impress you!” Mom called after him, laughter coloring her tone.

“I’d rather she didn’t!” Bran shouted, stumbling a bit as his boot sank into the snowdrift. “Tell her I’m flattered but no more corpses!”

And as if summoned by the sound of his voice, Nyx reappeared between the trees, a dark blur against the white, bounding toward him at full speed.

Bran turned, saw her, and made a sound that was somewhere between a yelp and a resigned groan. “Oh, come on!”

“She’s not going to hurt you!” I called, half choking on my laughter. “She just loves you!”

“Then tell her to show it like normal animal do!”

Nyx circled him like an overgrown puppy. She roared once, short and sharp, tail wagging furiously.

I couldn’t stop smiling ,the kind of aching, helpless smile that came from deep inside. Because even as Bran tried to appear annoyed, his hand automatically reached out to steady Nyx’s head when she nudged his side. Even in his dramatics, he was gentle.

Gaz leaned close to me, smiling softly. “He’s doomed, you know. First you, now the beast. He collects obsessions like magnets.”

I didn’t look at him. My eyes stayed on Bran red cheeks, wind-tossed hair, the quiet warmth that made even the snow look softer around him.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “We all do.”

Bran’s laughter echoed, that rare golden sound that carried like warmth through the cold air.

He was kneeling in the snow, his gloves already dusted white as he tried to push Nyx away. She’d decided that playtime involved nudging him until he fell backward, tail sweeping arcs across the powder as if she were a cub again.

“Nyx, no!” Bran half-laughed, half-protested, pressing a hand to her face. “You’re going to knock me over!”

Nyx rumbled deep in her throat not threatening, but amused and then gently bumped her head against his chest, pushing him backward into the snowbank.

Bran’s yelp echoed through the forest. “Niko!”

I laughed, couldn’t help it. The sight of my lethal panther sprawled over my lotus flower like a giant housecat was too ridiculous to take seriously.

“She’s showing affection,” Dad said softly, smiling. “That’s how she used to play with Niko too.”

Bran was laughing again now, trying to wiggle free as Nyx’s massive paw held him down. His cheeks were flushed, hair full of snow, eyes bright. When he finally sat up, Nyx nuzzled into his shoulder with a sound that was almost a purr.

Then a movement caught my eye.
A flash between the birch trunks. Low, quick.

Dad gestured slightly with his chin. “There.”

The laughter faded as instinct replaced it. The air seemed to shift colder, quieter, charged. Every Sokolov knew the sound of opportunity when it presented itself.

“Let’s go,” Grandpa said.

Nyx and Brandon stayed behind playing around each other.
Rest of us moved and spreading out through the clearing. The crunch of snow under boots, the faint metallic click of rifles. It was nothing serious, just the thrill of the chase.
A deer. A simple hunt.

Dad was ahead with his rifle, moving silent as the wind. Grandpa followed beside him, calm and collected, like he’d done this a thousand times before which he had. Killian and Gaz were bickering over who’d spotted the deer first, while I rolled my eyes and told them both to shut up before they scared everything away.

Dad moved. No words. Just the faint click of the rifle safety, the steady exhale, the echo of silence before the world broke again with the sharp, clean crack of the shot.

The deer dropped instantly. Clean kill.

Dad lowered his weapon with that quiet satisfaction he always carried. Grandpa clapped him on the shoulder.

It couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes.
Maybe twenty,When we returned to the clearing, where Nyx and Bran were.
The snow where they’d been was disturbed pawprints, bootprints, half-buried in white. The woods swallowed the trail beyond that, silence stretching too thick.

Something in my chest twisted.

“Where is he?” I asked.

Mom looked around, scanning the treeline. “He must have gone after Nyx. She probably wandered off again.”

My pulse was already hammering.
Nyx wouldn’t have let him out of her sight and he wouldn’t have gone far without calling for me.

“Brandon!” I called, voice cutting through the cold.
It bounced back, hollow. No answer.

Dad stepped closer. “Nikolai, easy. They’re fine. You know how Nyx is. If anything, she’s keeping him safe.”

But I couldn’t breathe right anymore.
Every instinct screamed no.

Because the forest was too quiet. The kind of quiet that pressed into your ears until you could hear your own heartbeat.

Then a sound broke.

A low, guttural growl ripped through the air. Not Nyx’s.
Deeper. Rougher.Predatory.

Every muscle in me locked.

“That’s not her,” I said, voice raw.

Dad’s eyes snapped toward the sound. “Stay calm.”

“Calm?” I turned on him, chest heaving. “Bran is out there, Dad. He’s out there...with that thing.”

Mom tried to steady her voice. “Nyx is with him. She won’t let anything touch him.”

“She’s not invincible!” I shouted, snow kicking under my boots as I started toward the trees. “He’s..he’s out there alone!”

Dad caught my arm. His grip was firm but gentle. “Nikolai, stop. We’ll find them faster if you don’t rush blind. Listen. Breathe.”

I wanted to listen. I wanted to believe him.
But all I could hear was that echo, that wrong sound ,somewhere deep in the forest.

The growl came again. Louder this time.
Followed by a sharp, desperate roar,Nyx’s roar.

The world narrowed to that single, terrible sound.

And before anyone could stop me, I was already running into the woods.

Chapter Text

Third person POV

The forest had quieted into that kind of hush that only existed after the first few hours of morning. Snowflakes drifted lazily through the air, soft and glittering, like the world had decided to breathe slower just to listen.

Brandon lingered at the edge of the clearing area along with Nyx where as the others had gone deeper into the forest. Their laughter still carried faintly through the birch trees. Kyle’s voice rose every now and then, clear and commanding as he gave instructions to Gareth about the tracks they had spotted earlier. Nikolai had gone with them, rifle slung casually across his shoulder, his head turning back once to give Bran that boyish grin that could melt even the frost.

“Stay close to Nyx, lotus flower,” he had said. “She listens to you.If anything happens, she’ll bring you straight to me.”

And then he was gone, following his dad and cousins toward the open stretch where the deer had fled.

Brandon exhaled softly, watching his breath form a pale mist. He rubbed his gloved hands together, trying to keep the cold from biting through. Nyx prowled around him in lazy circles, her black fur dusted with white flakes. She looked like a living shadow against all that silver.

He smiled faintly and crouched down, reaching out to scratch behind her ear. “You’re not planning to go catch another one of your… gifts, are you?”

Nyx blinked at him, tail swishing once, slow and deliberate. Her golden eyes gleamed with something suspiciously close to amusement.

“Oh no,” Bran muttered under his breath. “You’re thinking about it.”

She tilted her head, then padded off a few steps into the trees.

“Nyx?”

No answer. Only the soft crunch of her paws in the snow before she slipped out of sight.

Brandon straightened, his chest tightening with a strange unease. He looked around, half expecting her to reappear with another unfortunate rabbit or fox clamped between her teeth. But the forest stayed silent, and the longer he stood there, the heavier that silence felt.

He told himself not to panic. Nyx was a predator, strong and intelligent. She knew these woods better than anyone. Still, the cold seemed to press harder against him. The trees loomed taller, their trunks pale and ghostlike through the fog.

“Nyx, come on. That’s enough for today,” he called softly.

Something answered him.

And It wasn’t nyx.

The sound came from deeper within the trees a low, guttural growl that crawled under his skin. It was faint at first, almost mistaken for the groan of snow sliding from a branch, but it came again, rougher, sharper.

Brandon froze. His heart thudded once, hard enough to echo in his ears.

He scanned the tree line. Between the white and the gray, something moved. A shadow, sleek and silent. Then two eyes appeared pale, yellowish, and fixed directly on him.

A snow leopard.

Brandon’s breath caught in his throat. He had seen pictures before, read about them, but nothing could prepare him for the sheer, terrible beauty of the thing standing twenty feet away.

It didn’t make a sound this time only lowered its body slightly, tail twitching once.

Brandon stepped back, instinct taking over. The snow crunched beneath his boots. The leopard’s gaze sharpened, and then it moved a blur of motion, silent and fast.

Brandon turned and ran.

The air burned his lungs. Snow caught in his lashes and stung his eyes. He didn’t even know which direction he was going anymore he wanted to just get away. Away from the heavy sound of something massive following behind him, paws thudding rhythmically against the ground.

“Nyx!” he shouted, voice breaking. “Nyx, please!”

Branches clawed at his coat as he pushed through the underbrush. His foot caught on a hidden root, and he stumbled, catching himself on the frozen bark of a fallen tree. He could hear the creature closer now , that guttural snarl vibrating through the air.

He forced himself forward again, legs trembling from the effort. The forest tilted slightly in his vision. His boots hit a patch of uneven snow, and suddenly there was no ground beneath him.

And the world flipped, snow flying around him like shards of glass. He rolled down a small embankment, hitting the ground hard enough for the air to be punched out of his chest. The pain came after, sharp and deep, slicing through his arm.

Brandon groaned softly, blinking through the haze. Snow clung to his lashes, melting into tiny droplets that slid down his skin. For a moment, he didn’t move. Everything was spinning, the sky, the trees, the breath fogging out of his mouth.

When he finally tried to sit up, pain flared so violently that he nearly cried out. His left arm was bleeding. A long, ugly gash ran from his forearm to his wrist, and blood seeped through the fabric of his coat, staining the snow dark red.

Panic surged in his chest. He pressed his glove over the wound, but the warmth kept spilling between his fingers.

“Breathe,” he whispered to himself, voice shaking. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”

He tried to breathe through it, to steady himself, but his pulse kept racing, wild and unsteady, every beat pushing the blood harder through the torn skin. And then the fear crept in, not of the wound itself, but of what it meant.

He knew enough from stories Nikolai once told that the forest didn’t forgive weakness. That blood in the air was a call, a promise, a challenge.

And now his blood was everywhere.

He looked down, panic clawing up his chest. The red kept blooming against the white. It looked wrong, too vivid, too alive. And he knew that smell was a beacon.

“Oh god…” he whispered, eyes darting around.

The snow leopard’s growl came again. Closer this time.

Brandon’s heart lurched. He pushed himself backward, crawling toward the shelter of a fallen log, leaving a trail of red in the snow. His body was trembling so hard that he could barely coordinate his movements.

The sound of something enormous moving through the trees. He dared a glance over the edge of the log.

It was there.

The leopard padded down the slope, its fur dusted with frost, eyes locked on him. Each step was soundless, almost elegant. Its tail flicked once, twice, before it lowered its head, muscles tightening.

Brandon swallowed, chest heaving. He reached instinctively for his phone, only to remember it was in his bag which he had left near the clearing area.

The world had never felt so wide. Or so quiet.

He tried to think of Nikolai, of the others, of anything that would help him stay calm. His thoughts came scattered, half-formed. He pictured Niko’s face when he left, that easy grin, the warmth in his eyes. He wanted that warmth now.

“Nyx,” he whispered again, softer this time. “Please, come back.”

His body went rigid. His hand clamped instinctively around the bleeding arm, as if hiding it could stop what was already done. He tried to crawl backward but there was nowhere left to go. His chest rose and fell fast, his pulse thundering in his ears.

“Please…” he breathed, voice barely more than a whisper, though he wasn’t sure who he was pleading to.

The leopard’s muscles tensed. Its gaze locked on his throat.
And then it lunged.

The world blurred into motion,white and gold and teeth, and before Brandon could even think, a massive black shape crashed into the leopard midleap. The sound tore through the silence, claws meeting claws, teeth clashing, snow exploding beneath their weight.

Nyx.

She slammed into the leopard with a force that sent both animals rolling through the snow. Her snarl wasn’t the playful sound Brandon had grown used to, it was guttural, furious, primal. The kind that made the air vibrate.

Brandon stumbled backward, heart pounding so violently it hurt. He could barely comprehend what he was seeing, the blur of fur and fangs, the shriek of a leopard’s pain as Nyx’s claws found their mark. Then the leopard retaliated, its paw catching her shoulder deep enough to slice through fur and draw blood.

Nyx roared.

--- --- ---

On the other hand, Nikolai ran through woods like a mad man.

He could hear voices calling his name, his dad's, Killian’s but they were distant, muffled beneath the roaring in his head.

There was only one thought, one image, one sound left in him: his lotusflower.

He forced himself through the undergrowth, the heavy smell of pine and cold earth thick in the air. He tripped, stumbled, caught himself against a birch trunk slick with frost. The scent hit him before he saw it, copper metallic,warm blood cutting through the clean bite of snow.

“Bran…” His voice was hoarse.

The trees broke open into a narrow glade, the ground uneven where the slope dipped and gathered shadows. Snow lay in churned patches, streaked with red. Feathers of white fur , not Nyx’s, were scattered across the ground.

And then he saw them.

Nyx was crouched low, her sides heaving. Her black coat glistened wet, patches of red streaking her flank. In front of her, lay the snow leopard , its body still twitching in the throes of dying. The air smelled of iron and wildness.

And in the middle of it all, Bran knelt in the snow.

He had both arms wrapped around Nyx’s neck, his face buried in her fur. His coat was torn at the sleeve, the fabric darkened where blood seeped from a deep cut along his arm. His fingers shook as he pressed them against her side, trying to stem the bleeding there.

“Bran!” Nikolai’s voice cracked, raw with panic.

Nyx’s head shot up instantly, her pupils blown wide. She growled ,not loud, but deep, warning. Her entire body went rigid as Nikolai took another step forward.

For a heartbeat, he froze too.

She wasn’t seeing him, not yet. Her instincts were still wild, stuck in the fight. She had Bran half-curled against her chest like he was something she had to protect with her last breath which she had. Her tail flicked sharply, her breathing ragged.

Bran stirred weakly at the sound of his voice, lifting his head. There was snow in his hair, melting slowly down his temples. His face was pale, but when he saw niko, he breathed in relief.

“Niko… you found us.”

Nikolai’s heart cracked clean in half.

He dropped to his knees, ignoring the way the cold burned through his trousers. “Don’t move, baby. Don’t...don’t move.”

“She’s hurt,” Bran whispered, his voice breaking on the word. “I.. I tried to stop the bleeding. She fought..”

“I know,” Nikolai said, his throat thick. “I know she did.”

Nyx’s eyes flicked between them, confusion warring with exhaustion. When Nikolai reached out, she bared her teeth in a low warning. Her body tensed again, claws flexing against the snow.

“It’s me, Nyx,” he said quietly, switching to the language he had used with her since he was a child. “It’s Niko. You did good, girl. You did so good.”

Her ears twitched. Her breathing slowed a little, though she didn’t relax fully. The trust was there deep, buried beneath the panic and pain but instinct was still stronger.

Bran pressed his face against her fur again, whispering softly, trying to soothe her, and for a moment, it worked.

Nikolai swallowed hard, inching closer. The smell of blood was heavy now, Bran’s and Nyx’s mixing, sharp in the frozen air. His gloved hand trembled as he reached out and touched Bran’s cheek.

“You’re bleeding too,” he said, voice shaking.

“It’s nothing,” Bran murmured, his eyes still fixed on Nyx. “Ju...just help her, please.”

Behind him, the rest of the group broke through the trees. The crackle of movement made Nyx jerk her head up again, her growl deepening. The sound was weaker than before but still enough to make everyone stop in their tracks.

“Easy,” Kyle said quietly, lowering his rifle. “Let Nikolai handle it.”

Niko leaned in a little closer, enough that Nyx could catch his scent fully. The moment she did, the tension in her shoulders faltered, her growl fading into a low, rasping whine. She blinked once, twice, and then lowered her head, pressing her nose weakly against Bran’s arm.

“That’s it,” Nikolai murmured. “Good girl… that’s it.”

He placed a hand on her neck, just above Bran’s. The fur was sticky with blood, warm beneath his palm. Her breathing shuddered, uneven.

“Stay with me,” niko whispered to nyx.

Nyx blinked again, her eyes glassy now. Her body swayed slightly, strength draining fast. Bran made a soft sound half plea, half sob and tightened his arms around her.

“Don’t,” Bran whispered. “Please don’t.. you’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

When Nyx exhaled next, it came out as a soft rumble, almost a purr, as if she was trying to reassure him instead. Then her body slumped forward, heavy and still.

For a second, everything went silent even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

Bran’s hands fluttered uselessly against her fur, his voice breaking as he said her name again and again. Nikolai caught him before he could crumble with her, pulling him close, pressing his forehead to his temple.

“She’s alive,” he murmured, even though his own voice trembled. “She’s breathing. She is okay.”

He didn’t know if it was true.
He just needed Bran to believe it.

“ She’s breathing,” Killian said quietly after checking her side. His voice was calm, but even he couldn’t hide the relief. “We need to move. Now.”

Brandon didn’t seem to hear him. His lips were parted, whispering fragments that barely held sound. “Nyx.."

“Bran,” Nikolai touched his shoulder carefully, afraid to startle him. “Baby, look at me.”

Brandon’s gaze flicked up. His eyes looked wide and glassy, pupils blown. “She’s hurt, Niko. Sh..she was trying...”

“I know,” Nikolai murmured. His thumb brushed the snow off Brandon’s cheek, the motion trembling with restraint. “She’s strong. She’ll make it. But we have to get you both back, alright?”

Nyx gave a faint growl when Killian moved closer again with the carrier blanket. It was weak, her body twitching as though she’d fight again if anyone touched her boy.

Nikolai leaned closer to her, his voice soft. “Easy, girl. You did good. You kept him safe.”

The panther’s golden eyes blinked once, slow and heavy, as if acknowledging his words before sliding half-shut.

"Niko.."Brandon’s breathing hitched. Panic was setting in, raw and physical. His chest rose too fast, shoulders shaking as if his body was trying to outrun the fear.

“Let them help her,” Nikolai said quickly, his chest aching with how small that plea sounded. “They’re just gonna carrying her. You’ll see her again in a few minutes. I promise, lotus flower. I promise.”

Brandon blinked rapidly, a tear sliding down despite his nod. “She’s going tobe okay,” he whispered again, like it was the only thing keeping him conscious.

“I know, baby. I know.”

When Killian and Gareth carefully lifted Nyx, Nikolai pulled Brandon to his chest, arms wrapping tight around him as if to shield him from everything else.

The moment he stood, Brandon winced. Nikolai’s gaze darted down,blood still oozed sluggishly from the gash along his arm, soaking through his sleeve.

“Shit,” Nikolai muttered under his breath, shifting him higher against his chest. “You’re bleeding through.”

Brandon tried to speak but his voice cracked halfway. “It’s not..worse…”

“Worse?” Nikolai’s voice came out low and hoarse. “You think there’s anything in this world worse than losing you?”

The words hung between them for a second soft, broken, unguarded.

Brandon’s eyes flickered, his lashes trembling as if he wanted to answer but couldn’t find the strength. His head dropped against Nikolai’s shoulder, breaths shallow and uneven.
when his arm shifted and pain flashed across his face.

“Hey!easy.” Nikolai stopped walking for a moment, tightening his hold. “I’ve got you. Don’t move.”

“I’m sorry,” Brandon whispered suddenly.

Nikolai frowned. “For what?”

“For…For making you..worry like that.”

Something in Nikolai’s chest cracked open. “Don’t you ever apologize to me,” he said, voice shaking despite the effort to keep it steady. “You scared the life out of me, lotus. I thought..” He stopped himself, throat working. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Brandon’s fingers, cold and trembling, brushed weakly at the collar of his coat. “You didn’t.”

Nikolai closed his eyes for a second, breathing through the rush of emotion. “No,” he whispered. “I didn’t. I won’t.”

They moved again. The trees began to thin, faint shapes of the mansion’s boundary walls appearing through the blur of snow.

From behind them came Killian’s voice. “We’re close. Just a few minutes more.”

“Told the staff to prep the infirmary,” Kyle called back. “And keep the heat ready. Both of them are freezing.”

Brandon made a soft sound something between a sigh and a whimper and Nikolai instantly lowered his head closer.

“What’s wrong?”

“Cold,” he mumbled weakly.

Nikolai’s grip tightened. “I know. Hold on, baby. Almost home.”

The world narrowed to that one word,home. The sound of his boots crunching on snow. The faint rasp of Brandon’s breath against his neck.

But then, just before the mansion came into full view, Brandon’s hand slipped from Nikolai’s coat.

“Bran?”

No answer.

Nikolai’s heart lurched violently as he stopped dead, shifting Brandon in his arms. His face was pale, eyes fluttering half-shut.

“Bran, hey! look at me.”

Brandon’s lashes lifted slightly, pupils unfocused. “’M… tired,” he whispered.

Nikolai swallowed hard. “No, no, you stay with me. You don’t close your eyes until we’re inside. You hear me?”

Brandon’s lips curved faintly. “You… always talk too much…”

The laugh that tore from Nikolai was wet and broken. “Yeah? Then don’t give me a reason to stop.”

He started walking faster, his voice low and desperate against Brandon’s hair. “Just a little more, baby. We’re almost there. You’ll see Nyx again in a bit. She’s strong..she’s waiting for you.”