A flash of fear darted down my spine. Hold them. I couldn’t. The past few months had been torturous. Day by day, the conditioning grew stronger again rather than fading.
I’d hoped it would disappear the more I ignored it, but it was the exact opposite—crushing me from the inside out.
“No. I can love them from afar.” I dropped my hand to link with her fingers, tensing a little as her grip threaded with mine. The familiar, unforgiving orders radiated up my arm, coercing with commands to hurt her.
“They’re yours, Roan. You have to hold them. They need to see their father.”
I swallowed hard, looking over at the twin bassinets. The babies were barely visible in bundled up blankets. They wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t made Zel my handler.
Not a day passed that I didn’t thank my f**king genius plan at giving her power over me.
If I hadn’t, she’d be dead.
After the incident in May, I’d had two more episodes. Two more times where she had to leave the realm of my equal and assert command over me. I’d told her how to say it, what tone of voice to use.
“Take your f**king hands off me, Operative Fox. Stand down this instant.” She cried every time she had to yell it, but at least she was alive. I didn’t begrudge her the power over me. It was the only way to love her and not chain myself twenty-four seven. Sleeping with handcuffs was bad enough.
“Maybe when they’re older, dobycha. Don’t make me. Not tonight.”
Her eyes flashed and the strength I loved about her tensed her body. “Tonight, Roan. It’s important.”
I wanted to scream at her not to push. This was one instant where I didn’t want her help. I needed time. Time to get my head straight and hope to God I had control. I stupidly hoped I could wait till the twins could speak and teach them the command to stop me.
That way my family became my handlers and they would all be safe from me.
I’m a f**king Rottweiler on a leash.
“Don’t.” I glared at her. “Leave me alone. Let me keep them safe the only way I know how.”
Her jaw clenched.
I leaned forward, encroaching on her space. “Think for a moment. You want me to hold two very innocent, very tiny human beings. You want me to touch new life while barely containing the violence of my past.” I jerked a hand through my longish hair. “You should know not to ask for miracles, Zel. Every night you try to push me to snuggle. To see if I have the strength to sleep with you in my arms.”
I leaned further, breathing hard. “Tell me what happens. Tell me how successful I am at holding you tenderly and sweet.”
Her gaze skittered from mine, sadness mixing with anger. “I don’t need to tell you what happens. We both know you’re getting worse instead of getting better. But…” She plucked the bedspread, eyebrows drawing together. Finally she looked back into my eyes. “If it’s getting worse don’t you think you should hold them now? In case you can’t at all?”
I hated that I’d lumped her with half a life. Half a man who could f**k her but never make love to her. A man who wanted nothing more than to give her everything all while my past tried to steal her future. I feared every day that she’d grow to hate me for my shortcomings.
I shook my head. “No.”
Zel clutched the covers. “Don’t be scared. You can do this.” She played the card that always made me bend to her will. “I trust you.”
It was an aphrodisiac to me. Gaining her trust. Doing things to justify that trust.
“You’re destined to kill me, aren’t you?” I groaned, dragging a hand over my face. She’d won and she knew it.
She smiled softly, her beautiful lips distracting me. “Not killing you—making you live.”
“Fine,” I snapped. “But be prepared to stop me if I can’t control it. I can’t handle the thought of hurting them.”
She nodded. “You have my word. I’ll watch you like an over protective mother.”
Ever so slowly, I drifted toward the two small cots. I looked upon two tiny raisin-like faces. One pink hat. One blue.
So tiny. So small.
Vasily and Vera.
Named after my brother and mother. I’d asked Zel if she wanted to call our daughter Clara, but her face had tightened and tears glossed her eyes. She said Clara was unique, and no one could live up to her name.
But then her gaze had come alive and she offered me the world. She proposed to call them after my lost family, I had to walk out of the room and hide my suddenly burning eyes. I’d turned into a f**king sap. I wanted to buy her every f**king jewel on the planet to show how much the gesture meant to me. I still hadn’t told her about my lineage, or that the twins were now twenty-fifth in line to an obscure royal family who would never be recognised again.
Zel sat higher in bed, watching me. “Hold them. They’re yours, Roan.”
She could’ve fooled me. Both had dark hair, no red in sight. Vera had vibrant green eyes like her mother, while Vasily had ice blue just like his namesake. A small piece of me wrapped up in so much of Hazel.
I wonder if Clara looked so tiny when she was born.
My heart spasmed at the thought of the little girl who I missed with every part of me.
“Roan.”
My eyes darted to Zel; my heart thumped like a crazed animal.
She sat higher in bed, face strained from the delivery and what I was about to do. “You won’t hurt them. Believe in yourself.”
But I will hurt them.
I was too big, too unpredictable. Some days I was fine—able to contain myself. Others, I was a f**king menace and spent the day running on the beach or hiding in the shower with a razor blade.
I loved my perfect world, but I was exhausted for trying to be just as perfect. No matter how hard I tried, I would never fit in.
“Operative Fox, you will hold your son right now,” Hazel commanded in the voice she knew would give me no choice.
Obey. Obey. Obey.
“Goddammit, Hazel.” I glared, hating her for a brief moment for using the power against me. “You broke your vow, dobycha. I don’t appreciate being made to do something that might end up destroying me.”
Her shoulders slumped but eyes flashed with green fire. “I’m doing it for your own good.”
My limbs were no longer mine to control. They’d been given an order and I had no choice but to move forward and obey. Damn her. Damn me. Damn everything.
I rolled my shoulders, trying to dispel my anger. I loved her for wanting to help, but I was pissed.