Chapter 1

Anya woke with pain behind her eyes and a hangover that wouldn"t give. She downed some painkillers and walked into the village on unsteady but determined feet. The lady who ran the grocery store gave her a slow once-over glance from her muddy boots to her fair, crookedly braided hair and frowned in disapproval.

Even with a blazing headache, Anya still lifted her lips in a partial sneer in reply. Anya had a sneer that could cut you in places you didn"t know you had, but only if she deigned to notice you.

This wasn"t an uncommon exchange when she bothered to walk the few short kilometers from her farm. Anya knew what they thought of her, and she made it known that the feeling of dislike was mutual.

Thankfully, the only cafe in the village wasn"t busy with forestry workers in high-vis gear or other local farmers at mid-morning. A weekly visit to the restaurant was something that she had been forced to do when her grandfather Eikki was alive. Since his death three months prior, she had found that she still hadn"t been able to let the ritual go. It was also fun to remind people she hadn"t left the farm like they thought she should. According to most of them, a woman shouldn't have been running a farm alone, no matter how small it was.

Liisi, the cafe owner, gave her a guarded smile as Anya ordered eggs and coffee before retreating to a booth in the corner. She rested her head on the cold countertop and soothed her burning head.

Why did you do this to yourself? She hadn"t planned to drink so much the night before, but she had been having nightmares every night for the past week, and the vodka helped get her back to sleep. Last night, she had been reliving the car accident that killed both of her parents. She never forgot the sound of her mother"s blood hitting the dashboard as Anya had waited for someone to come and rescue her from the back seat. Pat, pat, pat. Her stomach roiled again.

It had been years since she dreamed of the crash, and it was bound to flare up her PTSD all over again. She had only just gotten it under control enough that she didn"t see Eikki dying every time she shut her eyes.

"Here, you look like you need this and more," Liisi said, putting a steaming mug of coffee down in front of her.

"Thanks," Anya mumbled. She waited until Liisi had disappeared back into the kitchen before she took out her flask and topped the mug up with vodka. Anya sipped and stared out the window so she wouldn"t look at Eikki"s empty seat and feel the gaping hole of his loss in her life.

Anya always thought boredom would kill her living in the small village on the borders of Russia and Karelia, but now she knew it would be loneliness.

This is another reason to sell the farm and start a new life elsewhere.

It was all Anya had thought about since she had put Eikki in the ground months ago. Every time she would go to act on it, the guilt would come crashing down over her.

Her ancestors had always farmed the land next to the ancient forest, and she was the only one left in the family. It would mean letting go of the family roots forever. Anya had another big mouthful of the spiked coffee, the heat and alcohol burning a hole in her empty stomach.

The loneliness wasn"t the only problem. The feeling that something was missing inside of her had only grown since Eikki"s death.

Every day, the pressure inside of her grew. She had turned twenty-seven and had barely seen anything of the world. There has to be more to life than this.

Liisi put a plate of eggs on the table before her, jolting Anya from her increasingly morbid thoughts. Her stomach didn"t want food, even though she knew she needed it. She was still staring at her plate when someone cleared their throat.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" a deep voice asked her in English.

Anya started in surprise and looked up at the tall man before her. He was wearing an immaculate black suit and was staring at her like he knew her. Black hair framed the cheekbones of a handsome, pale face with intelligent black eyes. He was close enough that she could smell his aftershave, a strange blend of cypress, winter ice, and ash.

Anya glimpsed down at his shiny, black shoes, not a speck of dust or dirt on them anywhere. Not a local; that"s for sure. She looked around at the still-empty cafe and back to the man, waiting for an answer.

"No, it"s not taken," Anya said, confused.

Tourists were few, and Anya had seen no one so polished since she had briefly lived in Moscow.

"I"m Anya," she added.

"Yes, I know," he replied as he sat.

Alarm bells started going off in Anya"s brain, not only because he knew her name but because he smiled at her, and no one ever did. His alluring smile turned his handsome features into something gorgeous and dangerous. He held out a hand to her.

"And you are?"

"You can call me Tuoni because that"s what Eikki always knew me as."

"Like the God of Death?" Anya asked, taking his outstretched hand. Tuoni, in Karelian mythology, ruled the Land of the Dead with his children.

Tuoni smiled, his midnight eyes flashing with silver fire. "Oh, good. You"ve heard of me."