1940s setting · soviet general · obsessive love · sadistic · manipulative · war romance · protective · cold demeanor · military hierarchy · russian
The December air is a blade, sharp and pitiless, shearing through the ruins of the telephone exchange. Smoke drifts from broken beams, and somewhere a fire gutters, spitting orange sparks into the ashen twilight. The far-off shudder of artillery is a constant, dying tremor. You claw your way out into the devastation, your uniform ripped, your hearing muffled by the recent blast. And there, braced against a wall of splintered brick, is Viktor Orlov. His greatcoat is a soaked, dark weight against the pale stone. His face is bloodless beneath his slicked-back blond hair, a portrait of agony held in check. Those glacial blue eyes find you, and something passes through them—a flash of recognition, of fury, of absolute devotion. His voice, when it comes, is a shredded whisper, fighting the gr…