𝑅𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑃ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑥 ✔︎ || 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑑

58

WARNING: (not sex this time you horny hoes) This is a sad chapter and today is Christmas and I don't want to ruin the day so here's a heads up!

~ phoenix ~

Mikhail grabbed my hand, tugging me towards an adorable cottage on the far end of the village.

With a giggle, I followed, towing Ilya along with me but as we approached the door, he suddenly stopped. Looking up at him with furrowed brows, I tugged impatiently at his arm.

He smiled down at me softly. "You go. I need to speak to some people and then I'll pick you up, okay?"

Raising a brow, I countered, "What happened to being by my side twenty four seven?"

Chuckling, Ilya pressed a kiss to my forehead. "These people are family. I trust them with my life," he grinned before cheekily adding, "which means you."

Family? Like literally? Then, I realised his cheesiness.

Unable to resist a smile, I punched his chest lightly before reaching up to kiss his cheek.

Behind me, Mikhail made a retching sound and we laughed. Impatiently, the little boy pulled me in.

As we entered, I was immediately enveloped by warmth. The fire in the grate roared, its flames disappearing up the chimney.

"Do you, um," Mikhail began unsurely.

"Yes..." I encouraged, smiling broadly.

"Baby. Do you want see baby?" he burst at last with a proud grin.

Aw! Ruffling his hair, I answered, "I would love to see a baby!"

Excitedly, he grabbed my arm and led me up some stairs. We arrived at a small box room that was painted a soft pink. At the centre of the room was a cot. Hesitantly, I approached.

I had little experience with babies - come to think of it, my only experience was with little Ryder at home. That thought brought a painful ache to my chest. My dad and Ryder were expecting me to come back this September. I wonder if Mom would have told them...

A tug at my hand brought me back to the cozy room. Following Mikhail, I slowly creeped forward, spying into the cradle.

I gasped. The baby girl was beautiful. Her bright eyes were immediately drawn to my face, widening with curiosity. Wisps of dark hair curled around her chubby face, shining amber in the light from the window.

"Carry," her brother said suddenly.

Reluctantly, I shook my head. "I don't think so, Mikhail. Your mother isn't here and she might cry..."

The boy's excited grin fell.

Crouching, I looked into the bars of the cot. "Why don't you tell me her name, instead?"

"Viktoria," he replied mimicking my actions.

Little Viktoria gurgled happily as she grabbed her toes.

"How old are you, Mikhail?" I asked, unable to tear my eyes away from the baby girl.

"шесть," he grinned.