To Wear The Devil’s Ring

"Ready, nevesta moya," he said, voice low and smooth.

Bride. His bride.

Nadya accepted his hand with a withering glare, hating the warmth that sparked from his skin to hers.

The priest began the ceremony, voice solemn, rehearsed.

Alexei didn't say a word until prompted, his gaze fixed on her like she was the only thing in the world, and not in a romantic way.

Nadya kept her eyes on the crucifix behind him, teeth clenched, nausea stirring low in her belly.

Every word the priest spoke was a nail in her coffin, hammered in slowly.

When it was time for the vows, Alexei turned to her.

"I vow to stand beside you," he started, lips twitching, like they were sharing a joke. "So long as loyalty is kept."

She didn't blink.

"I vow to stand beside you," Nadya answered, voice steady, "so long as justice is served."

The priest raised a brow but said nothing. He pronounced them man and wife.

"You may now kiss the bride."

She took a step back before the priest even finished the sentence, but Alexei caught her wrist.

"No," she hissed, low enough for only him to hear. "Don't."

His lips quirked. "Don't be shy now."

And before she could stop him, he yanked her forward, one hand sliding around her waist.

The kiss landed, hot, claiming, cruel.

The world tilted, nausea and heat warring in her chest.

He pulled away just as quickly, face unreadable except for the dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Well, nevesta," he murmured for her ears only, "if I didn't know better, I'd say you wanted more."

"In your dreams," she spat.

"I've had better," he murmured, lips brushing her ear. "Though none ended with my bride panting in front of a priest."

She sucked in a sharp breath, fury tightening her fists.

She turned to storm down the steps, but his fingers wrapped around her wrist, iron-tight.

"Where do you think you're going?"

She yanked, but he didn't budge.

"I have things to see to," she snapped.

He laughed coldly. "You don't seem to understand. You're a Romanov now. Nothing comes before the family."

Her stomach twisted. "What do you mean?"

"You're coming with me," he said. "We have a function. Time to introduce my beautiful wife."

"A what?" Her blood iced. "That wasn't part of the deal. I came here to—"

"To marry me," he cut in smoothly. "You did."

"Then we're done for today," Nadya hissed.

His grip tightened as she opened her mouth again. "Yes, we're done talking about it. Now let's go."

"Alexei, you can't be serious."

Panic clawed at her ribs. 

"You think parading me in front of your family is smart?"

A flicker in his gaze. "Afraid someone will recognize you? Any reason you should feel this way?"

She froze.

He smirked. "Didn't think so."

Keep calm. Keep the mask on. Get through tonight, then figure out your next move.

And then he dragged her down the aisle. She stumbled behind him, dress trailing, heart in freefall.

The car ride was a blur. She sat stiff, hands clenched in her lap, trying to form a plan. This wasn't what she expected.

She thought he'd keep her hidden as a trophy, leverage, pawn. Not paraded before his inner circle.

"This is reckless," she said sharply. "You can't parade me around. You don't know who might—"

"Exactly," he cut in. "I don't know. And I don't like unknowns."

Her nails bit into her palms. "You're putting me at risk."

He turned slightly, eyes gleaming. "If you're mine, you're protected. Unless you're hiding something."

She looked away, heart pounding. If anyone here recognized her—if they connected the dots—it'd all burn before she could strike.

~*~*~*~

The car pulled up to a palatial estate. Lights glittered from every window. Music and laughter spilt out. She didn't move.

Alexei yanked the door open and offered his hand.

She ignored it and stepped out herself.

She stood at the base of the marble steps. Maybe if she pretended to faint?

Alexei didn't give her a chance to finish the thought.

He pulled her forward. Guards bowed. Doors opened. She stepped inside and was swallowed whole.

People turned. Faces watched. A sea of strangers with power in their veins and secrets in their smiles.

She was still in her wedding dress.

Alexei kept her close, an arm like iron around her waist. They wove through the crowd, greeting in Russian, eyes following her like ghosts.

She tried to keep her chin high.

Then they reached her.

An old woman stood at the centre, hair pinned in silver coils, lips pursed into a permanent frown. Power radiated from her like heat. 

Alexei smiled.

"Babushka," he said, voice loud. "Look who I brought you."

The woman turned slowly, gaze shifting from Alexei to Nadya.

Silence fell.

"This is my wife," Alexei said, loud and clear. "Nadya Romanov."

Gasps.

Stares.

The old woman looked her over, as if inspecting prey—ice water down Nadya's spine.

Then, finally, the matriarch spoke.

"She's underdressed."

It landed like a slap.

How was one underdressed in a wedding gown?

"And she looks hungry," Anastasia continued, eyes narrowing. "I hate hungry girls. They're desperate."

Nadya's lips parted, but the old woman lifted one bony hand.

Silence.

Nadya held it, jaw clenched.

"But she's beautiful," Grandmama added, voice begrudging. "And if I know my grandson…" Her gaze shifted to Alexei. "He wouldn't marry someone useless."

A pause.

"Do you speak Russian, girl?" she asked, cocking her head.

Nadya straightened. "Enough to know when I'm being insulted."

A beat. Then the old woman barked a brittle laugh.

"At least she has a spine. I'm too old for another whimpering bride brought in on her back."

"Another?" Nadya's gaze flicked to Alexei.

He, of course, ignored her.

"She's clever," Grandmama continued, but her voice dropped low. "But she feels... familiar."

Her eyes narrowed, studying Nadya's face longer than necessary.

Nadya swallowed. No. No, don't look too hard.

"Well," the matriarch said at last, turning away, "we will speak later, you and I."

The room breathed again.

Nadya nodded faintly.

She'd passed the first test.

But the night wasn't over.

The introductions came like waves, some warm, most cold, all dangerous.

Alexei kept her tight at his side, hand firm at her lower back. Possessive. Claiming.

She was in a den of sharks.

Alexei raised a glass toward a tall, lean man with a wolf's smile. "My uncle, Lev Romanov."

Lev's grin gleamed and held no warmth.

"So," he purred, reaching for her hand but stopping short of kissing it, "you're the one who caught the devil. Impressive."

Nadya smiled sharply. "He didn't fight that hard."

Lev's eyes sparkled. "Oh, I like her."

Before Nadya could respond, Alexei shifted, nodding toward a woman whose cheekbones cut the light like shards of glass.

"This is Irina, my cousin," Alexei said. Mid-thirties, dressed in silk, every movement commanding. Irina enveloped Nadya in a hug that was both sisterly and suffocating.

Her breath ghosted near Nadya's ear. "I hope you're smarter than you look. He chews up girls like you."

Nadya pulled back just enough, lips curving into a confident smirk. "Good thing I'm poison."

Irina's eyes flickered. "We'll see."

Before Nadya could brace herself for what came next, someone she'd already been introduced to called for Alexei. 

"Stay here." He said, patting her arm gently. 

"I am standing here," she said calmly, glaring at him as he walked away. 

Nadya snagged a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and almost downed the whole thing in one gulp. 

"Hey. New wife."

She turned to find a bright-eyed young man leaning casually against the grand piano.

He looked about twenty-four, eyes glittering with mischief—and vodka.

"You're gorgeous," he said, smiling brightly. "If he dumps you, call me."

Nadya blinked, then laughed—a burst of disbelief. She hadn't expected anyone to flirt so openly in this den of vipers.

Across the room, Alexei's head turned like a weapon locking on a target.

He crossed the room in long strides, the crowd parting around him.

"Hey, Lyosha," the young man teased. "Not jealous I'm bonding with your wife?"

Alexei's jaw tightened. "Fuck off, Matvei."

Matvei? she noted silently. So that's who he is.

Matvei just laughed. "Relax, old man. We're just introducing ourselves."

Alexei moved to swat him aside, but a call snagged Matvei's attention.

"Be right there!" He shouted back, staggering off with a lopsided grin.

Alexei's gaze snapped back to Nadya.

Her eyes followed Matvei's retreat, curiosity stirring. How did someone like that get raised in this household?

Without a word, Alexei reached out, possessively grabbing her wrist and pulling her close. His voice dropped to a growl in her ear.

Stay away from him," Alexei said, low and lethal. "He doesn't know how to behave around things that don't belong to him."

She blinked. "Things?"

"Don't let the smile fool you. He's all impulse. No loyalty."

She smirked. "So if I cheated, at least it'd be fun."

His grip tightened. "Watch it."

She tried to pull away. He didn't let go.

Another figure approached.

"This is my aunt, Mila," he said, voice still cold. 

Nadya looked at the woman. Red lips. Diamond necklace. Thick perfume that clung to Nadya's skin like smoke. 

Her touch was light, her words were not.

"Don't trust any of us," she whispered, pressing kisses to both of Nadya's cheeks. "Especially not him."

 She didn't nod toward Alexei. She didn't need to.