The Darkest Temptation

That night, I got married in Paris with a raven on my finger. Though, in my heart, I knew this man had never been my Nevermore.
He was my forever.

“Dazhe ocean ne mog razdelit’ nas,” I breathed beneath the possessive pressure of his thumb on my lips. Even the sea couldn’t keep us apart.
He smiled. “Not even hell, kotyonok.”

He ran his thumb across my lips. “Ty byla sozdana dlya menya.” You were made for me.

“The next time I fuck you, I need to know you’re mine. And I need you tonight.”

He made a noise of satisfaction. “Ya byl tyoim pervym I ya budu tvoim poslednim.” I was your first, and I will be your last.

“Ya lyublyu tebya. Tak sil’no chto ne mogu dumat’ kogda ty daleko ot menya.” I love you. So much I can’t think when you’re away from me.

“Ty svela menya s uma. I teper tebye nuzhno razbiratsa s posledstviyami.” You made me crazy. And now you have to deal with the consequences.

“Those all sound great,” he cut me off, “but I’ve had four months”—his eyes darkened as if the time had been worse than prison—“to think about this, and I know what I want.”
“And you want a wife,” I said slowly.
“I could buy a wife from a catalog if I wanted to,” he returned harshly. “I want you. And if I can’t have you as my captive, I want the next best thing.”

Ronan lay me on a gurney, and a nurse rushed me into an OR room. When a surgeon tried to stop Ronan from entering, he pulled out his pistol and pointed it at the doctor’s head.
“Yesli ona umret, ty tozhe umresh’,” he growled. If she dies, you die too.

“Then let me make it clear for you,” he said, the shadows in his eyes flashing. “You would survive without me. You would move on.” His tone roughened. “I can’t imagine a world where you and all your fucking yellow doesn’t exist. So if you die, you’ll take me with you. Your sacrifice would mean nothing, kotyonok. NOTHING.”