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We shared hot chocolate, his plain, mine loaded with so many marshmallows and caramel that Stas looked at me with disgust. We walked slowly, shoulders brushing, and the night couldn’t be more perfect. By the time we reached the far end of the market, snow had settled in Stas’s hair, dusting his dark coat.

He looked… beautiful. Dangerous still. Stoic. The man who could break me with a look or steady me with a touch. But beautiful.

He stopped under a string of lights, golden bulbs hanging overhead like captured stars. And right above him, dangling from the wire, hung a sprig of mistletoe.

“Yuriy,” he said quietly.

“Hmm?”

He wasn’t smiling.

He wasn’t scowling either.

Just looking at me like he hadn’t meant to fall into this… whatever this was… but no longer had the strength to climb out.

“I’m glad this happened.” His eyes flicked to mine. “I’ve never felt this close to anyone before. You…get me. And you don’t mind the parts of me that are defective.”

“I love all of you,” I said before I could stop myself. “And there’s no part of you that’s defective. All of you works beautifully just the way you are, Stas, and if you doubt that, then maybe I’ve been doing a shitty job of showing you that. Do you know just now I was thinking how fucking hot you are?”

His breath hitched. For a full second, neither of us moved. Then he reached out, cupped my jaw with a gloved hand, and kissed me—slow, warm, careful. The kind of kiss that up until then I’d only heard about in songs.

When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine. “There’s a reason I brought you here,” he said, his tone almost apologetic.

“Wait—” I pulled back. “That wasn’t a confession before my assassination, was it? Because I’ve seen this sort of thing in movies all the time.”

Stas patted my cheek. “There’s someone you need to talk to.” He nodded past me.

I turned, following the direction of his gaze. Yelena and Zasha stood a few feet away, bundled in winter coats, hands linked, cheeks pink from the cold. The falling snow softened their outlines, like the universe was trying to turn this into a tender family moment. Too bad my heart didn’t get the memo.

I inhaled sharply, feeling as if a knife had been lodged beneath my ribs. A tug-of-war played out inside me. I wanted to hug my brother as much as I wanted to punch him in the fucking mouth.

This had been such a perfect date. Why did Stas have to ruin it?

“You two need to talk,” Stas said quietly. “He’s the closest family you’ve got, Yuriy.”

“Tell that to him.” The bitterness slipped out before I could leash it. I pulled my hand from Stas’s and turned to walk away.

“Yuriy, don’t go!” Zasha’s voice cracked, raw and small in the cold air.

My breath misted in front of me as I froze. Snowflakes gathered on my lashes. For a second, I didn’t turn, just let the sound of him hang there, pleading.

“Talk to him.” Stas bowed his head and kissed me softly. “Both of you need this more than you want to admit.”

Did I, though?

Stas stepped around me and offered Yelena his arm. “We’ll walk,” he said, giving us space. “Take your time.”

Yelena squeezed my forearm on her way past, her eyes soft. Then she and Stas moved down the path. Silence settled between Zasha and me. He stared into his coffee cup like it held the secrets of the universe. I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets and stared directly at him. Except for the time I broke his arm, all my life I’d sheltered and coddled him. If he could look me in the face and say those awful things he had, then he could find the courage to apologize. I’d be damned if I made it easy on him.

He let out a shaky breath and bowed his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

His eyes snapped up to mine, startled. In the past, I would’ve waved him off, told him it was fine, smoothed everything over like I always did, but not this time.

“You’re upset,” he said quietly.

“Not upset. Disappointed.”