The city was as vibrant as Mila remembered it, in deep contrast with the silence of the woods.

"You have thirty minutes," said Erik while parking the car in front of Dasha's apartment building. Their apartment building.

"Fine, that will do," answered Mila untying her seatbelt.

It had been six hours of wild driving till they reached London. Erik had indeed formidable instincts but that didn't stop Mila from panicking from the speed he was driving with. They also didn't talk for almost the whole seven hours. They actually didn't talk since he left his mark on her abdomen in a very sensual way and walked away letting her aching and longing for his touch.

She shouldn't have mocked his stupid ritual, which turned out to be one of the most mind-blowing things she had ever seen.

After he left, she spent hours looking at her belly in the mirror, at the smooth skin and the abnormal tattoo in the shape of flames that stretched from her belly button to the base of her sternum. It was oddly beautiful and it felt different. She felt different, a bit stronger, faster, more alert.

When she saw him the next morning she felt a mixture of anger and awkwardness; he seemed however not to care and was acting more nonchalant than before. His mood was slightly different, but, somehow better. He smiled more, and it appeared brighter. Or was it just that she found him now even more handsome than before?

Remembering the past two days, she could not hold his gaze for longer than thirty seconds without blushing.

Dasha occupied the other part of her mind that was not ambushed by awkward shyness. She had to reach Dasha. Dasha was likely in danger and she had been the one that brought her in that situation. If what the wolf people said was true, the guy from the club was likely after her. 

"You know it would be much easier if you give me my phone back."

"No, I don't think so." It was the only thing he said, without even looking at her.

"What are you doing?" asked Mila when she noticed he opened his door too.

"Coming with you," he said simply.

"No way. Who the fuck can I say you are?"

"I don't know. You have a few minutes to think of something. Michael will stay in the car; be grateful for that," he said, opening the door of the building for her.

"Why did he come in the first place? It's not like the fifty kg heavy Dasha is life-threatening?" Mila huffed annoyed. It was going to be a very strange conversation. 

"After you..." he said ignoring her reluctance.

Mila knocked at the apartment door. It was two pm on a Saturday. Dasha should be home. She prayed for her to be.

"I told you I am going to pay next week," screamed Dasha from behind a locked door.

"Fuck..." muttered Mila to herself, realizing that without her, Dasha could barely afford the rent.

"Dasha, open up, it's me."

They heard the key moving in the lock and the door swinging open.

"Mila?" The surprise on Dasha's face was utter and undisguised. "I thought something happened to you. I couldn't believe you just left..."

"I ...uh..." Mila was not sure what to say.

"And who is that?" said Dasha giving Erik a double look. "You ran off with a hot ass boyfriend?? Fuck me! I didn't think you have it in you. But that means nothing happened to you; you just left me. Bitch! Was I not even worth a phone call?" Dasha just vomited the words without thinking.

"No, he is not my boyfriend. He is my boss of sorts. It's complicated... Can we come in?"

"Boss... Yeah..." Dasha gestured for them to enter. "Do you want a coffee?" Her voice was skeptical and reluctant and she was not leaving Erik out of sight.

"No, thanks," said Erik.

"I don't have anything else to offer."

"It's ok, we just came to make sure you are well," said Mila. 

"Aha... And what exactly are you doing for him? What's your business about, Erik?" Dasha's tone was ambiguous. It sounded like she wasn't trusting anything they said. 

"He's a mobster," answered Mila fast.

"Oh... That is unexpected... And explains some stuff..." Dasha's eyes opened in surprise. But hen she relaxed a bit. That made sense and she believed it. 

"I help them when they get injured. Angel, the boy that we met that evening, is working for him. They needed someone to help them with... stuff. I was more or less compelled to work for them, but it became... convenient. I am sorry I didn't say anything; they didn't trust me to get in contact with someone from outside till today."

Dasha's eyes went wet with tears.

"I thought you left me... you too... like everyone does..."

Mila just hugged her in silence and whispered into her ear "I never would..."

"Ok, this changes things... So tell me, Erik, where are you from?" Dasha redirected her attention to him with a change in attitude.

"I was born in southern Germany, near the cloister of Andechs, a long time ago," he answered politely, and apparently truthful.

"A German mafioso... that is ... unusual."

"Don't outlaws come in all shapes and colors?" he replied with a brilliant smile that dazzled Dasha completely.

"Definitely. And your shape is definitely... exquisite..." she said holding his gaze.

Mila couldn't help feeling a stinge. She noticed she didn't like Dasha interacting with him like that. The pretty, charming, and flirty Dasha...

"I'll go make some coffee," said Dasha heading to the kitchen.

"I'll come with you," said Mila, ignoring Erik's frown.

"Mila, behave. Please." He put a hand over hers.

Mila was dumbfounded by the gesture and how natural it felt.

In the corner of her eye, she noticed a slight frown on Dasha's face when she placed the tray with coffee on the table and she saw the gesture. That subtlety made Mila retract her hand.

All three took a cup of coffee and drank. It made the situation less awkward.

"Erik owes me money. He didn't pay me so far. I want you to give her what you owe me. It has to be about five thousand pounds," said Mila looking him dead in the eyes with the courage only desperate people have.

"I... will send Daria the money," he said simply after the initial surprise passed.

"Daria? How did you know her full name?" asked Mila.

"I did some research... Actually, Angel did. We don't like to... take... ri..." Erik brought his hands to his temples letting the coffee mug fall and shatter on the floor. It looked like he was grabbed by sudden, massive pain."Mila...run..." he said with a last flicker of power before collapsing on the floor.

"Erik?!" Mila leaned over him to feel his pulse.

"He is not dead. He cannot be killed, or not that easy, though the amount he swallowed can knock off a bear," said Dasha.

"What did you do?" asked Mila looking at her astonished.

"Don't you want to escape? That's the message I got. Though he is totally different than I pictured him... No monster at all, or maybe only in the ways you would actually want a man to be."

"What now?" asked Mila, while she was fighting the millions of feelings in her chest.

She technically could flee, and be free, but as she looked at Erik laying there, close to powerless and so unlike him. A piece of her felt like it might not be the right thing to do after all.

"Come, we have to hurry! His immune system is crazy, he will be up in ten minutes. Take your clothes off first and wear these," said Dasha pulling a pair of jeans and a T-shirt out of the closet.

They exited the building on the back door where two taxis were already waiting. Dasha packed her clothes in the first car and they entered the second.

The man took off at full speed as soon as they closed the door. After half an hour of extremely fast driving, he pulled over in front of the entrance of a hotel, seemingly very fancy hotel.

"What are we doing here?" she asked Dasha.

"Hiding. Come on."

Dasha moved at ease through the lobby and dragged Mila to the elevator.

"Presidential suite?" said Mila frowning. Something was not right, couldn't be right. Maybe she should not have accompanied Dasha blindly without questioning anything.

The feeling proved to be right because after Dasha closed the door of the suite behind them, Mila's eyes met sparkling blue irises, those extraordinarily colored yet frightening eyes she could not forget. They were just the same as in her memory and in her dream, and so was the rest of him... beautiful and frightening.

"Hello, little doe. I have waited so long to see you again."

Her body froze entirely. That was not good. That was not good at all.

"Daria, come here," he said in a calm tone. Dasha obeyed instantly.

"Dasha? You are working for him?" Mila concluded all the decisions she took that day had been the wrong ones. She tried to assess the amount of trouble she was in. It looked like a lot of trouble.

"A girl needs to survive. I am sorry, Mila. He said he would kill me if I don't. You said you will not hurt her..." said Dasha with teary eyes looking at him.

"No, not right now. I need her. You on the other hand I do not need anymore..." he said calmly but his eyes lit up as claws appeared on his fingers.

Dasha's eyes widened in horror.

She couldn't help it; regardless of what just happened, facts that she was not even sure how to process, Dasha was her friend, and she couldn't let her die.

Instinctively she dug her fingernails into the snowflake-shaped mark. They were indeed connected. He flinched and she ran to a window and opened it.

"Let her go, or I will jump."

His expression was surprised and intrigued. Many other emotions that were rather hard to decipher were gathered in it. 

"Dasha, go... If he wants me alive he will not harm you," she said looking at her.

That was true. He growled and came slowly towards Mila extending one hand.

Dasha was out the door when Mila put her hand into his and felt the shiver creeping up her arm extending from the mark.

He pulled her away from the window in one swift move and slammed it shut.

"Take your clothes off and take a shower; you reek of him and it irritates me."

"Why would I do that?" asked Mila smirking.

"Because you don't want me to slit your friend's throat."

His answer was glacial and simple; he didn't care nor did he pretend to.

"I don't have other clothes."

"You do. I prepared some for you in the bathroom. You have ten minutes; be quick."

"I like to take my time while bathing." Mila spat the repark. He wanted her alive, so she had some leverage. 

"Not this time. Now we need to hurry. I don't want Erik to find us, because it will result in major casualties. So ten minutes or I will come and drag you out. I will enjoy it, you will not," he said simply pointing to the bathroom.

"You are Kiril, right?"

"I am. I see my reputation precedes me. I can only imagine the infamies he told you about me," he said smirking.

Oh shit...

"Shower. Now," he said with shimmering eyes.

Mila found herself again having to obey a strange, much too dangerous, powerful, and obscure creature. 

As the water ran over her in the sumptuous shower she touched the mark on her abdomen and thought about the trouble she was in and the trouble she was going to be in if Erik found her. He would certainly be angry. 

However, everything she saw Erik so far, showed that he was many things but not evil; she was certain of that, but about Kiril, she was not sure.

"Find me. Be angry but find me...".

She slipped into the elegant, red velvet dress and the scandalous underwear that lay ready for her in the bathroom. Those were certainly the most beautiful clothes she had ever worn, gifted by the most dangerous and level creature she had ever seen. Mila was afraid and in her fear, she touched again the mark. The skin on her abdomen was glowing hot. She hoped it wasn't her fantasy. 

"You look better now. I don't know why Erik let you wander around dressed like a tramp," said Kiril while his eyes were wandering over her body.

"Erik didn't care how I looked."

"I doubt that."

"What now?" asked Mila with a bored gesture.

He didn't answer just took her hand abruptly and lead her out of the room and of the hotel to a black SUV that was waiting for them in the garage.

"Get in," he said opening the door for her.

I am so screwed...  It was quite obvious that she couldn't outrun him and she seemed pretty shrewd to be tricked. 

"Where are we going?"

"To run some errands..." Kiril smiled to himself, brushing a strand of his long silver blonde hair behind his ear. Half of it was braided the other half ket lose in natural waves. His ears were pierced and bejeweled and his clothes, which sat perfectly on his toned yet not bulky body,  look elegant and expensive. 

"What do you want from me?" We are certainly not having a tea party. 

"Empires rise when there is blood on the streets. And you, you are a brilliant digression that I will try to use to my advantage." He was so nonchalant in his answers it made Mila's pulse raise in annoyance. 

"To your advantage to do what?" asked Mila.

"To get everything I wished for and more."

"And what would that be?"

"Has nobody taught you to never reveal your deepest desires to anybody, or else they will be used against you?" He smiled theatrically at the end. 

"But is it not sad to not be able to share that with anybody?" spat Mila, happy that she actually managed a comeback.

"Stop talking. Your voice irritates me," answered Kiril and turned his gaze to the street.