Strong hands grab my waist.They yank me up a split second before I bust my nose.Planting me on my feet, they spin me around.
Looking at Nicholas, I gape at him like a dying fish.“I can’tmarry him.”
“The alternative is death, Arienna.You don’t want that.”
I shudder.“That just drives my point home!It’s between him and death?How can I marry someone like that?How did you –” I swallow as my eyes scan the scars on his face.
A coldness washesover his features.“Richie is nothing likeStephanie.If he wasn’t forced into this position, he wouldn’t be marrying you.But he found a way to save you.And him.”He pauses.“And all of his people.”
“What?”My eyes search his, begging for something Icanhold on to in the chaos of my mind.
“Richard is fighting for change,” he murmurs.“Good change that will hopefully see us at peace – a life we have not known for generations, for thousands of years.He has sacrificed so much to get us here, and all he needs now is you.You have to marry him, Arienna.For us.For peace.”
My mouth floundersfor oxygen Ican’tseem to grab.I know it’sflowing through my lungs.I know Iamstill breathing.But that part of my bodyfeelsforeignand tight and wrong.
Peace?My marriagewillcreate peace?
Howcanhe throw that on me!Howcanhe think thatevenmore expectations andtheoverwhelming weight of responsibilitywillbe a good thing!
“I need Fabia,” I croak.
“She’s unavailable.”
“But she’s my maid of honour!She needs to be here.I need her here.”My hands twist in my skirt.I suck in a ragged breath, trying to calm the panic drowning out all thought and rationality.“I need her –”
“Not to be that guy,” Ajax cutsin, “but we’re running out of time.So if you could have your panic attack while changinginto this masterpiece of a dress, that’dbe great.”
I gulp.
Grabbing my hand, Nicholasgivesit a small squeeze.“You’re going to be fine,” hesays, looking me in the eye.“And if you everthink you won’t be, just look at me, okay?I’ll be standing right behind Richard, so you’ll be able to compare my facewithhis and know you got the right brother.”
My laughcomesout flustered and weak.Thatwas a horrible joke, but a good brownie always laughsat one’s joke.
And Iama good brownie.
And good browniesalways aim forpeace.
But… but…
“I need to talk to Fabia.”
He staresat me for a long moment.My breaths come out faster and faster.My hands grow clammier.Ushering me over to a chair, hesitsme down andgivesmy hand another squeeze.“Okay.I’ll go get her.You wait here and take deep breaths, okay?”
I nod as I struggle to do as he requests.A big breath in.And out.In.And out.
Oh gods.WhatamI doing?
I’m noteven drunk this time, so Ican’tblame my bad decisions on the usual.
Thisisall on me.Sober, horny, no-standards me.
Squeezing, my eyes shut, I dig my fingers into my lap.
No, no.I stillhavestandards.
I’d rather die with my mother’s vagina on mine thanmarry someone whoeatschildren.
So Ican’tmarry him.
