Page 106 of Deviant Need

“You can’t,” he says, and I don’t know if he means I can’t marry her or I can’t pass out.

His hands reach out for me, but he stops himself, pulling back to make sure no one sees him touching me.

“We can figure something out. He didn’t say right now, so we have some time to find a way out. Right?”

“Nyet, Danya. He said next week. He wants me to meet her tonight and then marry her.”

He takes a step back, then another, then turns around and looks over to where our father stands across the room. He is watching us, his brows pulled together, our mother next to him looking worried. He looks like he wants to murder me for walking away from him, then barks something at her and she nods, walking off somewhere.

“I’m going to snap,” I say, my hands shaking. “I can feel it. I’m going to do something bad.”

“No, listen.” Daniil turns back to me, his voice urgent. “We just pretend for tonight, and then we leave. We’ll figure it out, go somewhere they can’t find us. I don’t care where, just away from here.”

“You would do that?”

“I would do anything for you. We can run away together. I love you. I’m not letting you marry her.”

Sucking in a breath, I nod. I can pretend.

I can pretend for tonight and smile at people I don’t give a fuck about. I’ve done it my whole life. We can run off together, we can go be us somewhere he won’t find us. We can be free to be together. I’ll think of that whenever something happens tonight, hold onto it like a lifeline.

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay,” he echoes. His hand brushes against mine for just a second before he pulls away.

“Excuse me.”

A girl with strawberry blonde hair in a red dress approaches us. Tommy O’Shea stands behind her, and my father is right there too, gripping his glass so tight his knuckles have gone white. He shoots me that look, the one that says don’t you dare embarrass me, and I force myself to straighten up even though my legs feel unsteady.

“My dad wanted me to come talk to you.” She clears her throat, her cheeks flushing pink. “This is so awkward, but he said we’re supposed to marry tomorrow.”

Tomorrow?

The word registers slowly, like my brain can’t quite process what she just said.

“Tomorrow?” I stare at her, waiting for her to laugh or say she’s joking.

“Yes.” She fidgets with the strap of her dress. “He wants us to marry tomorrow instead of a week from now. Says there’s no point waiting when the agreement’s already made. Everything’s been arranged.”

Fuck.

The air gets sucked straight out of my lungs, and I can’t pull it back in. Daniil looks at me in panic, his hazel eyes going wide, and he opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but nothing comes out. He stares down at the floor instead, his jaw clenching so hard I can see the muscle jumping beneath his skin.

Tomorrow. Not next week. Tomorrow.

Something inside me explodes.

“Yeah, I’m not doing that,” I blurt, and my voice comes out louder than I meant it to. Heads start turning our direction. “Run off to your father and tell him the arranged marriage bullshit isn’t working out. I’m not marrying you. I’m in love with someone else, and you’re not him.”

The words hang in the air, and everything stops. The music keeps playing, but every conversation around us dies. People stop mid-sentence and turn to stare.

What did I just do?

I just fucked up.

So badly.

My heart is racing, pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.