18. -17-
Nina
Dorian forced me to do it. Despite my prolonged efforts to persuade him to cooperate, he refused.
His biggest advantage was that he quickly realized I had no intention of hurting him, so he could reject every offer I made.
I even mentioned his brother, but he laughed at my proposal to help him get out of prison.
What else could I have done?
Serum was my only chance. I bought it on the dark web for an absurd amount of money.
It was illegal, experimental, and abandoned after human trials went horribly wrong.
But without it, I had no chance of forcing Dorian to say yes.
So, even when I was apprehensive about using it, I injected it into his system.
“We should have beaten him into it,” Lucas mumbled, watching Dorian sit on the bed with a stupid smile. He was in another dimension. His eyes were glassy, and he spoke quietly in incoherent sentences. “What if he never returns to normal? Zyon will skin us alive.”
“Not Zyon,” Dorian finally reacted to our conversation after my failed attempts to make him at least look at me. “Malin will turn your worst nightmares into reality.”
He chuckled as if he already saw our fate, his dreamy expression and slow movements making my entire being cramp with guilt and shame. But if I wished to get this done without breaking his bones or shooting him, it had to be this way.
Desperate times, desperate measures. Right?
“Don’t listen to him,” I said to Lucas in a firm voice, refusing to submit to catastrophic scenarios. “We have work to do.”
I grabbed Dorian’s cuffed hands and pulled him up.
Surprisingly, he offered no resistance. He wavered, the stupid grin remaining on his absurdly adorable face, looking more drunk than drugged.
One of the side effects of the serum was unpredictable aggression, but nothing suggested he would have that problem.
Still, I kept my gun on my hip, and a knife was attached to my thigh, just in case he lost his mind and attempted to kill us with his bare hands.
Fuck! Why couldn’t I at least cut those hands with a small blade? Draw a little blood to scare him?
Maybe then he would’ve taken me seriously. But no! I couldn’t just slash or beat someone I cared for. So I poisoned him with a forbidden substance instead.
Jesus Christ, what was I thinking?
“You have such pretty eyes,” Dorian’s soft voice interrupted my growing panic attack, glancing at me as if I were the most beautiful thing in the entire world. “It’ll be a waste to close them forever.”
My chest tightened, and the bitter taste on my tongue almost made me gag, but knowing he hadn’t lost his spirit made me optimistic.
“You’re on your way to looking into those eyes forever, baby.”
“I would kiss you if you weren’t a fucking psycho.” He shook his head, disappointment reflecting on his face.
“You will kiss the bride.” I took his hand and led him out of the room, hearing him mumble.
“What a blast.”
While I had waited for the serum to kick in about twenty minutes ago, Lucas prepared everything we needed to formalize the marriage. We’d handle witnesses and rings later.
I stood Dorian before the old wooden desk in the ancient library on the first floor, which smelled like mold and was full of dust. The tiny desks in the opposite corners were lit by heavy brass lamps, their pale glow chasing the darkness away.
The shelves full of books, spiders, and their webs threw ominous shadows on the floor, underlining the scary atmosphere and the forced act we were about to perform.
The moon tried to see inside too, but the heavy violet curtains were closed.
We had a frightening privacy in something that should have been the best day of our lives.
“Make it quick,” I whispered toward Lucas as he approached; his empty eyes, which usually expressed so many emotions, gave me chills.
He hated this. We were both against coerced acts, but he understood the danger I would face if we failed.
And to my luck, he was willing to cross his own boundaries to help me. I owed him my life.
Lucas granted my request and delivered the fastest wedding ceremony in history.
Dressed in his dark outfit and wearing a mask, he held a single sheet of paper with quickly scribbled notes.
He didn’t waste time on formalities, and before I could take a deep breath, he turned to me with the most important question.
“Do you take this man to be your husband, for better, for worse—even though you already know this is the worst idea ever—until death will redeem you?”
My eyes widened, and a throaty laugh spilled from Dorian’s mouth. He slowly turned to Lucas, nodding in agreement.
“I like you.” He chuckled and gave him a thumbs-up. Lucas rolled his eyes and gave me an expectant look.
“I do?” I exhaled, accidentally making it sound like a question.
“Are you asking me?” he groaned. “Because then, the answer is no.”
“I do,” I confirmed sternly, flashing him a cold look while Dorian continued to laugh as if he knew how terribly this would end.
“Now you, Dorian Zhumagulov.” Lucas drifted his attention to him. “Do you take this unknown woman to be your wife, to stand beside her through crimes, chaos, and the inevitable bloodbath, until one of you ends up in the grave?”
One corner of my mouth lifted in a half-smile at Lucas’s sarcastic words. He couldn’t help it. He needed to show his disapproval somehow.
“Before I answer.” Dorian raised his hand groggily, but it wavered, and he grabbed the edge of the desk.
I supported him so he didn’t fall, frowning at him.
“Did we skip the part about objections? Because I certainly have some.” He grimaced, blinking rapidly.
“And I’m sure somewhere there has to be a question about entering the marriage willingly. ”
I opened my mouth to direct his mind elsewhere and get this over with, but my best friend lost the last remains of his patience and pulled out a gun.
“Answer the fucking question, or I’ll shoot you,” he threatened, yet it only made Dorian laugh more.
“Please, do it.” He grinned, clasping his hands in a pleading gesture. “I can’t wait to sit at the Devil’s table, drinking whiskey, and explaining how I got there. He would not fucking believe it!”
“Terrific,” I sighed, letting go of Dorian’s elbow. He barely balanced on his wobbly legs, staring into the barrel of the gun like some invisible force pulled him toward it.
“I’ll fucking shoot you!” Lucas yelled, clearly overwhelmed by this entire situation and the inevitable aftermath that awaited us.
“Shoot,” Dorian challenged him, but I slapped the back of his head. He turned to me, his eyes wide in surprise.
“Answer the question, handsome,” I said sweetly, pulling out my gun. “Or your hands will bleed.”
Lucas gave me a confused glance, but I ignored him and focused on my warning. I pressed the gun against Dorian’s wrist, his smile slowly fading.
“You wouldn’t, ma vilaine,” he whispered, giving me the most adorable puppy eyes I had ever seen. I literally felt like the biggest bitch on planet Earth.
“I would if you don’t cooperate.” I touched his cheek, brushing my gloved fingertips down to his jaw. “Answer the question.”
“Fine,” he pouted, his thick brows knitting above his glassy eyes. “I do.”
“Finally,” Lucas grumbled, balling up the paper with notes and tossing it on the desk. “I will need your signatures, lovebirds.”
I snatched the pen from his hand, writing my full name on the dotted line. Dorian sulked at me, looking like a four-year-old who was denied his favorite toy. I gave him the pen, smiling encouragingly, my index finger pointing at the line.
“Sign it,” I prompted, sensing a weird nervousness in the pit of my stomach. It went too well for my liking. Despite the initial trouble, it was quick and smooth. Something was about to fuck up.
Just when that thought crossed my mind, the explosion echoed downstairs. I flinched in fright, but before I could react, I was hauled into Lucas’s chest.
“They’re here,” he yelled, his terrifying words followed by Dorian’s excited laughter.
“They’re here!” he echoed, clapping his hands like a clown. He stuck his tongue out at me, and a joyful chuckle flew from his mouth.
“Fuck,” I hissed, distinguishing the quiet footsteps.
“Come.” Lucas tugged on my arm, pulling me to the last room. “I need you to trust me.”
“I trust you with my life,” I said without hesitation as the footsteps approached us. Smoke crawled across the floor like a poisonous snake, and dust fell on me from the ceiling.
“Then, God, help us.”