White Betrayals

~Nariya Patel~

A soft shiver runs down my spine as I gaze through dimmed vision into the darkened room. The only light comes from outside, filtering through a frosted window, casting a curtained glow. I stretch, relaxing my body for a moment before a deep grumble from my stomach urges me to rise. Rolling to my side, I notice the window, now seemingly smaller, frosted with a thin layer of ice. I watch, transfixed, as my hazy mind struggles to understand this new environment. Slowly, my eyes adjust to the altered furnishings, and I realize with a start that I am in an unfamiliar place.

"St. Elmo," I mutter to myself as I rub my face and glance at my trembling fingers. The room feels unusually cold, a stark contrast to the previous day. And yet, here I am, clad only in my pajamas, surprisingly comfortable. "Ah, yes, I remember," I continue my internal monologue, scanning the room now that my eyes have adjusted to the dim light. "Yesterday, exhaustion took hold, and sleep came swiftly."

On the bedside table, a proxy phone sits charging, its bright screen illuminating the time: 4:15 am made my eyes squint. Setting it back down, I notice a remote neatly placed beside it. Ah, the heater control for this cabin, I realize, understanding the contrast between the frigid outdoors and the cozy warmth within. "Oh," I whisper, grateful for the blast of heat.

A sigh escapes my lips as I consider the late winter sunrise and the blizzard raging outside. The warmth of the sun feels like a distant memory, and I find myself wondering about the sudden change in weather. "But it was so nice just yesterday," I think to myself, a sense of wonder and curiosity mixing with the chill in the air.

The tug of hunger proves too strong, and I rise, slipping my feet into the warm slippers that have been provided. As I look around, I realize that Alexie must have prepared everything while I slept—a thoughtful gesture. True to his considerate nature, a wrapped sandwich awaits me by the window. I take it, unwrapping it to find cold-cured meat, perfect for such chilly mornings. Munching greedily, I make my way to the frost-covered window, which rattles slightly from the wind outside, battling to keep the cabin warm. Despite the heaters, the cold seems relentless.

Like a curious cat drawn to silliness, regardless of circumstance, I found myself irresistibly drawn to the frosted window. I began to doodle—first, my beloved cat, Nyx, then playful portraits of Handler and Mao, followed by familiar faces from the cafe. I drew a high-ponytail girl with a broad smile next to Nyx and a grumpy face for Alexie. Laughing at my creations, especially the spot-on depiction of Alexie, I shook my head and reached out to wipe the window clean. Suddenly, my heart skipped a beat, and I took a startled step back. In that fleeting moment of wiping the window, I had glimpsed a dark figure lurking at the edge of the forest, a stark silhouette against the white blizzard. But when I leaned in for a closer look, there was nothing to be seen.

By now, with the sandwich devoured and my heart still pounding, I glanced back at my tussled bed. I contemplated returning to sleep, as there seemed little else to do at this hour. Yet the memory of that shadowy figure, perhaps a figment of my imagination, spurred me on. I sprinted towards my lover's room, my toes curling as I came to an abrupt stop outside his door. I hesitated, wondering if it was appropriate to disturb him at such an odd hour. I raised my hand to knock, but stopped midway when I noticed that the door was ajar.

Pushing it open gently, I stepped into a room better lit than mine, thanks to a soft night light. I immediately spotted the broad, naked shoulders of Alexie, sleeping soundly on his stomach, his body rising and falling with each slow breath. I took cautious steps towards him, for this was one of the rare occasions I had seen him sleep so peacefully. As I drew closer, I noticed his strategic positioning—a testament to his training. His back was twisted in such a way that he could quickly roll off the bed if confronted with danger, and his hands, casually placed under the pillow, likely gripped some form of weapon.

Intrigued and slightly amused by his preparedness, I moved closer to the bed, bending down to tug lightly on the pillow. My fingers brushed against the cold metal of a .45 caliber pistol, strategically placed in his hands. 'The safety's probably off', I thought to myself, my eyes trailing over the man I had fallen for. "You'd never guess, looking at him now," I mused, taking in his perfectly sculpted features—a face and body that could challenge a Greek god. "That he could be a cold-blooded manipulator, capable of doing anything to get what he wants for himself and those he cares about."

My fingers trailed lightly over his features—those thick brows, the long lashes, a carefully crafted nose, and those supple lips... Lips that, despite their innocent appearance in sleep, I knew could utter the most lewd things. "Pervert," I muttered under my breath, a flush rising to my cheeks as memories surfaced.

A deep, rumbling chuckle vibrated in his throat, and I knew he'd been awake since I entered the room. "And here I thought you wanted to drag me to your bed," he said, emphasizing the word 'your' with a hint of amusement.

His eyes fluttered open, and I felt a flush rise to my neck. I straightened up instinctively as he shifted, turning his body at an angle he knew would affect me. And it did. He wasn't just half-naked, as I had initially thought, but entirely so. The poor comforter did little to hide his hardened, flexing muscles, trailing down from his pectorals to the chain of his abs and the fuzz of dark hair that led to an unknown, intriguing place. The comforter also failed to conceal his obvious arousal, tenting the covers. His gaze darkened as it fell on me, a slight tug at the corner of his lips before he turned away, still smiling to himself.

Despite the enticing display, I refused to give in to his teasing. Turning away, I mumbled, "I only came because it had gotten cold."

Through my peripheral vision, I saw him reach for the remote and reply, "Yes, it seems the heater is at its limit." He paused, a thoughtful expression on his face, before adding, "Wanna cuddle?"

That was exactly why I had come, but faced with his playful confidence, I felt too embarrassed to admit it. "Sure," I muttered, my voice low. "If you say so."

I moved to pull back the comforter, but before my fingers even touched the fabric, Alexie's voice stopped me. "Stop," he said, and I turned to look at him, my brows raised in question. "Grab my clothes from the dresser there," he instructed, pointing to a wardrobe right next to me. Biting my lip, I hurried to retrieve his boxer briefs and pants, tossing them in his direction. He caught them in one fluid motion.

As I waited for him to get dressed, my gaze fell on the mirror next to the wardrobe, and I caught sight of my own reflection. Panicked, I started to say, "Alex, I think I have some allergic reaction or something—" But his laughter interrupted me, and I trailed off, a flush rising to my head as realization dawned. "Oh," I muttered, understanding the true cause of blisters on my skin.

Still chuckling, Alexie bent over, clutching his stomach. Embarrassed, I picked up whatever was within reach and threw it at him, which he casually caught with ease, placing the items on the bedside table or on the floor thanks to his tall stature. Our game continued, with my angry mumbles and his shameless snickers, until I grabbed his Bvlgari Black perfume bottle and unthinkingly threw it. My eyes widened a second later as realization hit, and I held my breath, hoping he would catch it. He did, raising his brows at my scared expression.

"What happened, moonpie?" he asked, his voice warm with amusement.

I sighed, offering an excuse. "Oh, I got scared that the glass shards might hurt you."

He placed the bottle on the table and stretched, snaking his arms around my waist and pulling me closer with his body weight. I struggled, protesting, "Alex!"

Twisting us both along with his own rhythm, he maneuvered so that he was half on top of me, pushing me back onto the bed alongside him. I flushed, looking away and turning slightly from him, worried that he might add to the marks on my neck and collarbone. Instead, I felt soft kisses flutter across my skin.

"I'm sorry, moonpie," he murmured between kisses. "I didn't mean to exert you so."

I pouted but soon relaxed into his comforting scent, drifting back into a slumber. As my tired eyes caught sight of the perfume bottle on the bedside table, I whispered drowsily, "When did you start wearing that scent?"

He kissed my eyelids gently, encouraging me to close my weary eyes. "Since we came here," he replied. "Can't have people recognizing me through my scent. Why? Don't you like it?"

"No..." I mumbled sleepily, snuggling closer to the crook of his neck. "But I like your scent the best." I placed a light kiss on his collarbone before sleep overtook my tired body.

~Alexie Ivanov~

I lightly kissed her hair, smiling at her honesty. "Seriously, if you'd rather be honest like this than throw yourself at me, I don't mind," I muttered, my voice soft.

My eyes trailed down, taking in the dim light and the contrast of the hickeys I had left on her skin—a beautiful picture that I couldn't help but feel proud of creating. I had never expected my control to falter to this level, and realization hit me that my animalistic instincts had no restraint when it came to her. Something shifted within me, a deep desire stirring. The demon I had kept shackled cried out, yearning to claim her entirely as my own. 'Oh how I wish to paint her entirely in my colors.'

Startled by the intensity of my own uncontrolled urges, I flinched back, reminding myself once again of my purpose in her life and the promises we had made to each other. I sighed, my eyes following the trajectory of the dim light filtering in through the window. There was more going on in this quaint town than met the eye—the sweet townsfolk, the calmness of the mountainous scenery. This tranquility, for some reason, had irked me since our arrival. I had tried to dismiss it as my habitual alertness, but something was amiss. Subtle signs had started to appear yesterday, and although Nari was yet to notice, I knew she had to be prepared. The girl I had trained was skilled, but she was still unprepared for the weighty decision of taking another human life.

I rubbed my face, contemplating the inevitable. Was there another way out of this situation? Perhaps it would be better to leave everything and everyone behind and start fresh, where no one knew us. But when I imagined a future with Nari, a sweet little family, I remembered something crucial. Neither of us would want our past to haunt our future—the crimes of parents should not be passed down to their children.

'For now,' I thought, snuggling closer to her, 'I want to enjoy the peaceful time I have with her.'

An alarm beep startles me awake, and I crack my shoulders, suddenly panicked at the absence of Nari's warmth beside me. But before my anxiety can escalate, her tiny head peeks out from behind the bathroom door, a toothbrush sticking out of her mouth as she mumbles something incomprehensible: "Imukupeerliii."

Letting out another sigh, I force myself out of the cozy warmth of the bed, donning a t-shirt and a jumper. The heater is still blasting, but it seems the relentless cold of winter has finally gotten the better of it. I peek out the window and notice that, although the blizzard has long since ceased, the entirety of the earth is covered in a blank sheet of white snow.

Noticing her presence beside me, I snuggled her closer. "You need to be careful not to get sick," I said, my voice concerned.

"Why, wouldn't you get sick?" she replied, rolling her eyes.

I smirked. "Well, I'm more used to the cold, and you've spent most of your life in the South."

"You shifted to the South when you were a kid!" she pointed out.

Tussling her hair playfully, I laughed. "Yeah, but I was a kid who had traveled to many places."

"Hey!" she screamed as I got up to head to the washroom, shutting the door behind me. My laughter echoed, and I shook my head, amused by our playful banter.

When I emerged from the washroom, I found Nari all bundled up next to the fireplace in the drawing room. Moving closer to her, she called out, "Come have some breakfast. We've woken up way early. I don't think the Evernest would be up by now." She beckoned me over and offered a plate of bread and ham sandwiches.

"I see you found the stuff I bought yesterday," I commented as I took the plate and snuggled closer to her.

"Yeah... I don't remember much of yesterday," she admitted.

"Hmm..." I replied between chews. "Well, you passed out before dinner, so I went into town quickly and brought some provisions."

"I see," she said, and then added under her breath, "Also, aren't you hiding something from me...?" She snuggled closer, her tone playful but her eyes curious.

A sigh escaped my lips. The cat was out of the bag, not that I had done a great job of hiding it. "Yes, I noticed those bugs when we came back yesterday. Don't worry, I've hacked them, and right now, they're probably playing a soft snoring lullaby for the listener."

Worry laced her doe eyes as she looked at me. "Does that mean...?"

"Um-hmm," I muttered. "Our cabin and luggage were searched."

"But I didn't notice anything amiss?" she asked, concerned.

"Well, whoever did it was no amateur," I replied, gulping down the sandwich and the hot coffee Nari had prepared. "But they missed something."

"What?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in curiosity.

Turning sideways to face her, I asked, "What do you know about my habits regarding the placement of my items?"

"Oh," she shrugged casually, "you're an organizational freak."

I narrowed my eyes at her choice of words, but her playful demeanor softened my annoyance. "It's not OCD that makes me do that," I explained. "When you see someone's room and notice that everything is kept in pristine order, like a sequence, your brain assumes that everything in that person's room will be in perfect order. So, when a snooper comes around, their brain, conditioned to believe that logic, tends to put everything back in order."

"Even when they might not have been in order originally," she concluded, her eyes lighting up with understanding.

"Correct," I replied with a proud smile.

"What was the item that was out of order?" she inquired, her curiosity piqued.

"The bible in my nightstand drawer," I said. "It's a pretty inconspicuous item, but people often hide many unholy things within the religious pages. I was sure that if someone came snooping, they would turn the pages of that bible, so I had kept it slightly askew at an angle of thirty degrees. But they fell for it." I continued, "And then there were the obvious bugs all over the cabin, installed just yesterday."

As her initial excitement died down, realization began to show on her delicate features. She looked down, her voice soft as she said, "So that means the Evernst might be—" She couldn't bring herself to finish the thought.

Sipping my coffee, I gazed ahead, my expression serious. "Possibly," I acknowledged. "We need to be extra careful today, especially near the mines. I didn't like those men from yesterday."

"Yeah," she scratched her head, confusion and worry mixing in her eyes. "There was something about them... especially the last one..."

"I noticed something peculiar yesterday," I continued. "After we came back, you fell into a deep slumber, and Mr. Evernest brought supper over to the cabin. But..." I paused, gauging her reaction before continuing. "It was laced with drugs. It seems that the lovely people around us have shifted their viewpoint about us since we came back. Something or someone has turned them against us..."

The silence stretched as I didn't need to confirm her fears. But soon enough, her eyes lit up with determination. "It doesn't matter who's in our way," she asserted. "We need what we need, even if—" She choked on the last bit, her voice catching.

I pulled her closer, offering reassurance. "Don't worry, moonpie. I'll protect you."

"Hmm," she murmured, kissing me lightly before replying, "And I you. So, they want to poison us, do they? Don't worry." She jumped off the couch and ran towards her room, returning with a rice cooker in her arms and several bags. "I had prepared just in case, never thought we would actually need it," she explained, setting the rice cooker on the table with an optimistic smile. She pulled out rice and various condiments from the bags, muttering to herself, "We can cook onigiri or even Oyakodon..." I understood that the girl standing before me was prepared for any blizzard—or challenge—that awaited us.