My gaze falls to my left hand lying in my lap. Matvei follows it, sees what I’m looking at. Then he reaches over and plucks my hand up.
He brings it up between us, palm down.
The ring catches the firelight. It’s particularly grotesque tonight, as if all the nastiness of these four years have made it fester and grow like a tumor. A fat, monstrous ring chosen by a man who wanted to advertise his ownership of me to the world.
Matvei looks at it for a long moment. Then he looks at me.
I don’t know what he means, exactly. But I nod anyway, because at this point, I’d nod at anything he asked me.
He brings my hand to his mouth. He parts his lips and slides them down over the tip of my ring finger, and then further, until the cold metal of the band hits the warm, wet edge of his mouth. He suc
