Then the little girl looked up at me and her mouth dropped open. I tucked my head farther into my collar to not scare her anymore just as the little girl asked Zoya, “Is he a monster, K’alishvili?”

My stomach fell and I saw Zoya tense. “No, baby,” Zoya replied softly. “He’s a warrior, big and strong. He has fought his whole life and sometimes got hurt. That’s why he wears scars. They show how brave he has been.” Zoya glanced up to me. My muscles tensed at the look of pure love written on her face, at the words coming from her mouth.

Turning back to the little girl, she said, “Valentin has moved to this area with me so he can protect us all and keep us safe. You see how big and strong he is?” The little girl nodded, her brown eyes wide. “Well, that’s so he can fight off the bad people.”

“Like the scary monsters that live under my bed? Those bad people?”

Zoya laughed and nodded her head. “Yes, just like those. And Valentin always wins, because he has a pure heart.”

The little girl looked up at me again, but this time in awe, this time seeing someone else other than a monster.

All because of my Zoya.

The little girl gave me a huge smile, then turned round and ran across the road to her waiting mother.

As Zoya stood, she threaded her hand in mine, and silently led us down the pier. The old wood of the floorboards creaked under my weight. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore grew louder. We reached the end of the pier and gazed out to sea.

I closed my eyes, feeling Zoya’s hand in mine. As soon as I was met with darkness, images of my sister infiltrated my mind. The dread that always accompanied them took hold. I slowly breathed in the salty air, pushing the dread aside. We were going to get her back. She just had to hold on a while longer. And she would. Inessa was strong.

Opening my eyes, I looked down at Zoya, who was staring out to sea. Inessa was strong, just like my little Georgian kotyonok.

As if feeling my stare, Zoya glanced up at me and smiled. My heart almost cracked. When her hand tightened in mine, I looked at her hand and remembered savoring that moment in the chamber, convinced that I would never be able to hold her hand again.

“What are you thinking about?” Zoya enquired.

Pulling her into my chest, I pushed back her long windblown hair from her face and said, “You.” I lifted our joined hands. “Us, like this. Out here. Free.”

Zoya laid her head on my chest, and I held her close. “Those people…” I trailed off and shook my head. “The way they treat you. You are their printsessa.”

“No,” she argued, but I shook my head in disagreement. She was. She was beautiful, she was loved, and best of all, she was mine.

Zoya lifted her head. With those huge dark eyes, she stared up at me with nothing but love. Reaching up her hands, she pulled back the collar of my coat and smiled. “That’s better. Now I can see you.”

Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to her lips and tilted my head toward the sun. The warm rays immediately heated my face. I smiled.

Here I was, my hand in Zoya’s, sun on my face, and free.

I was happy.

I never imagined I could be happy. But it was Zoya. It was all Zoya. My kotyonok, the thief of my heart, my little Georgian.

Here I was, the monster that she saved.

The one she searched the dark woods for.

The one she believed deserved to be loved.