Pulling back from pressing kisses on Kisa’s stomach, my eyes met my wife’s. “I love you, solnyshko,” I whispered, unable to express all I felt inside. “Thank you. Thank you for loving me so much. For understanding me like no one else.”
A cry broke from Kisa’s throat, and she held me so close. We seemed to stay that way for a lifetime; I never wanted to move. Then I heard movement near the front door and I knew the byki were here.
With a final kiss to my hair, Kisa guided me backward and cupped my face. “You need to go and get Zaal, Luka. You need to give Talia and him the chance to love as deeply as we do.”
My eyes closed and I nodded. My hand lightly pressed over Kisa’s stomach, and I rose to my feet. I stood looking at the back room, the room that held my weapons. I’d never gone into a fight without them before. But I also didn’t want Kisa seeing that side of me. I wasn’t sure she wanted to see me battle-ready. I didn’t want her upset. Especially now.
Kisa stood and kissed me on my cheek. “Go, baby. Go be the man you need to be.”
I had no idea how she did that, how she could so perfectly read my mind.
Kisa urged me to move with her hand, and I stepped forward.
* * *
My heart thudded as I walked to the back room. My head was spinning with the news.
I was going to be a father. Kisa was carrying our child.
A feeling of deep peace washed through me at the thought of seeing my love full with our baby. And my heart felt free. Free now that Kisa had accepted the man I was. She’d accepted all of me.
Completely.
Without judgment.
I was free.
Walking into the back room, I began undressing. Throwing my stifling shirt and dress pants to the floor, I moved to the closet and opened the wide doors. Only three things were waiting behind this wood—my black sweatpants, my dark gray hooded sweatshirt, and my bladed knuckle-dusters. The three things that defined the man I’d fought so hard to hide. The man I’d been since I was fourteen, and the man I could no longer deny.
Reaching for the hangers, I removed the pants and slid them on my legs. I removed the hooded sweatshirt and slipped it over my arms, zipping up the front.
My head looked up at the final items left in the empty closet. My fingers tensed and my blood pumped with excitement. Adrenaline merged with the anticipation of the fight, with anticipation of the kill, of bringing death to Jakhua.
Lifting my clenching hands, I pulled out the cold pieces of steel and ran my fingers over the sharp pointed blades. With breath held, I slowly slid the knuckle-dusters over my fingers and breathed. My eyes closed as my fingers curled into fists and the sense of being home coursed through my veins.
I walked back toward the living room when I caught sight of me in the mirror hanging on the wall. I stopped dead and stared at the man looking back at me.
This was the man I knew—Raze.
This was the man I held in my heart. This was me, the fighter, the one who maims. Slaughters. Kills.
Opening the door, I walked down the hallway and into the living room. Kisa was sitting on the couch. When I entered the room, her lips parted.
I stood still and watched her with wary eyes. Kisa got to her feet, looking beautiful in her black shirt and tight jeans. Her long brown hair fell over her shoulders, and her blue eyes captured me.
She stood before me, her sweet scent washing over me. A smile pulled on her pink lips. Her hands reached out and smoothed down over my gray sweater. Her hands moved down to my hands and over the spikes of my knuckle-dusters.
She huffed a laugh. Her bottom lip trembled.
“Solnyshko?” I whispered, not wanting to see her cry.
She flicked her eyes up to mine, and said, “I didn’t realize until this very moment how much I’ve missed you looking like this.”
My chest tightened. Kisa stepped closer again until she was flush to my chest. Her hands lifted and ran through my hair. “The man that with just one look I knew was my soul mate brought back to life … miraculously brought back to me.”
I lifted my hands to wrap around her waist, and her head tilted to the side. Her fingers ran under my eyes. “All you’re missing are the smudges of eye black.”
I shook my head. “I’m not trying to hide who I am anymore. I know I’m Luka Tolstoi.”
Kisa nodded, fighting her tears, but her hands lifted to my neck and she placed my dark hood over my head. “No,” she whispered, and ran her finger softly down my cheek. “Like this, you’re Raze.”
“Kisa,” I rasped, my throat now tight.
“Shh,” she soothed. “Go. Go and stop Jakhua. Go and bring Zaal back to Talia, back to us all. He belongs here. With us.” I stared at Kisa, unmoving. Then her hand took mine and she pressed it against her stomach. “And fight for us. Stop Jakhua for the safety of our child. For our little family, you have a reason to come back to us now, lyubov moya.”