2. Alena

Kristof is here.

I've not seen him in months.

Every time he's here, he consumes me. I want to spend all my time in his presence just listening to him talk, listening to all his stories, and hoping he'll look my way just once. Every time he's near, my heart skips a beat and my mind runs with the constant want to be seen by him as if there's nothing else worth my time. He doesn't even notice me, not in the way I want him to.

All those desires and more rose to insane levels last year when he saved me from Mikhail and stole my first kiss on my eighteenth birthday.

But then he leaves.

He always leaves as work for my father calls him away, and it's like light is stolen from my life. My world is darker and quieter, with nothing to distract me but the stories I pour all my attention into. I tell myself that each time I see him is the last time, and I hope that time apart will quell the storm of emotions he creates inside me. I force myself to dream of these things, trying to stamp out the fantasy that he will save me from this life and my impending doom. Sometimes, I'm successful and wake up certain that my feelings have faded.

And then he comes back. One whiff of his leather jacket, one glimpse of those incredibly sexy arm tattoos, and every desire I have for my godfather comes roaring back to life inside me.

It's not normal. But my life isn't normal, not by a long shot.

My hurried steps carry me through the house, each foot lighter since I crashed into Kristof and realized he was in the house. Here to see my father, that's the only reason for these snatched visits, but all it took was that one touch for me to forget all sense. If I weren't desperately seeking out my best friend and trusted maid, Katja, I probably would have stayed there and stared at him until something took him away.

The solid line of his body I felt from our collision lingers against my skin, and his musk of leather and oil teases my nose with each panted breath. He's really here. Kristof is here, and excitement bubbles inside me like fizz, and all the feelings I've carefully locked up in his absence come bursting forth.

It's overwhelming, and I can't keep the grin from my face when I reach the art room. Stumbling inside, I close the door and lock it behind me, then slump against the wood, my heart hammering. Every quiet dream and fantasy of him rescuing me from this prison of a house and my looming wedding floods to the front of my mind. Clutching my book to my chest, I sigh softly and then yelp when something soft thumps against my shoulder.

"Alena!"

My eyes snap open in time to catch the cushion Katja launched at me. She's seated by one of the easels, another cushion clasped in her lap, and she fixes me with a pointed stare.

"Katja! I'm sorry, I—" Darting forward, I drop to my knees on the hardwood floor and shove the cushion back into her lap as I laugh. "Kristof is here. I ran into him. Literally."

"Oh, God." Katja groans and rolls her eyes with a smile. She has spent many nights listening to me go on and on about him. Katja is my only friend, my only light in a house where I'm little more than a chess piece being shunted about for the good of the family.

"I'm sorry. I just…" Rocking back onto my ankles, I sigh and glance past Katja to the windows that show the rolling beauty of the back gardens illuminated by hundreds of small garden lights. "He was so… so him."

"Remember two weeks ago when you were so over him and determined to focus on Mikhail?" Katja pointed out, prodding me lightly in the chest. "When you were going to be the good little wife?"

I groan low and throw myself backward, lying flat on the floor. "Past me had no idea he was going to turn up here. He smelled so fucking good, and he touched my arm and I— there was a second when I was staring up at him, and all I could think about was that kiss."

One hand went to the pendant around my neck, a gift from Kristof on the same night he kissed me. I haven't taken it off since, and it serves as a reminder that someone here saw worth in me, even if it was fleeting.

"It's been nearly a year," Katja pointed out gently.

"I know." Sighing, I close my eyes. "He's barely spoken a word to me since, not even coming to see me. I mean he has been busy?—"

"But," Katja cut in, "we agreed that it's not healthy for you to obsess over him for so long."

I sit up slowly and eye Katja, who wears her most serious face. A beat of silence passes, and then we both burst out laughing and clutch at each other.

"For a second, I thought you were serious." I laugh, leaning against her.

"I tried my best, I really did." She giggles.

"Damn. Every time I think my crush is fading, he always appears."

"How was he?" Katja clutches her cushion tighter, her eyes wide.

"He was… as handsome as ever. His hair is all fluffy on top of his head, and his beard has just the right amount of silver through it." I sigh dreamily, then straighten immediately as an unwanted thought blasts through my mind. "You don't think he's here for the wedding, do you?" Getting married off was bad enough, but I don't think I could do it in front of him. That would be torture.

"No." Katja toys with some of the fringes on her cushion. "I overheard some of the other staff talking. He's here to update about whatever he's been doing in Russia."

"Ahh, that's why his accent was so thick and sexy." Giggling to myself, I cross my legs and swivel to face Katja. "I wish everything weren't so awful and busy so I could see him."

"You just want another kiss," Katja teases, and I giggle because it"s true. She sees right through me, not that I'm trying to hide it from her.

"Maybe…"

"You want him to sweep in like your dreams and whisk you away from this cold palace and terrible wedding." There's a sing-song note to Katja's words, and even as I smile, warmth beads my cheeks.

"That's just a silly dream." I sigh. "But maybe. So many times, I thought about running away, but I never thought Mara was serious about grounding me until the Wedding."

"As punishments go, this is extreme," Katja agrees. "Especially for telling the truth."

"It's so stupid." I push at my cushion as annoyance swells. "It's not like I can even go anywhere, anyway."

"Your mother is…" Katja pauses, seeking out the right word, and I nudge her gently.

"A bitch? An asshole? A pizda?"

"Your words, not mine." She laughs lightly, and I turn around, draping myself over her knee and settling into the cushion.

With Kristof on my mind, I clean forgot why we were even meeting here until I'm lying down, staring at the ceiling and wishing for freedom.

"Did your brother make good?"

Katja nods down at me with a wide smile. Then she pulls two cards from her pocket. Bolting upright, I snatch them from her and stare at the two fake IDs. It was a terrible risk, asking Katja's brother for this, given that he works for my father. But unlike all the other trolls on his payroll, Alexei is young like us. He still has life in his veins.

"Oh, my God," I breathe out slowly, skimming my fingertips over the picture of me next to a fake name and date of birth. "He actually did it."

"Yup," Katja declares proudly. "Everything is all set."

For weeks, we've been planning this. One crazy night to ourselves where we can sneak out and do whatever we want, be whoever we want before the cell door of marriage clangs shut behind me and I spend the rest of eternity married to a psychopath.

It'll be one night where we can be ourselves—or in my case, discover who that is—before everything changes.

"I'm so excited." Katja giggles. Her life here is just as secluded as mine, and she bounces slightly where she sits. "Do you think we'll meet anyone cool? I'd love to meet a cute boy."

"Like you're not all smitten with Petar," I tease. Katja immediately shoves me, her cheeks flaring red.

"I'm not! And even if I was, he's like… a proper man."

"He's a guard."

"Exactly. He does things. He's lived, and I'm just…" She pauses.

I lift my gaze from the IDs and nudge her knee gently. "Because you're a virgin?"

"Exactly," Katja says. "I want… Well, it would be cool if I could get some experience, y'know? So Petar doesn't think I'm useless."

"I don't think anyone who likes you could think that," I say firmly. "Maybe we will get lucky. I sure as hell don't want to lose my virginity to Mikhail." A cold shudder ripples through me and I pass the IDs back to Katja. If Mikhail's forceful attempt at a kiss was anything to go by, I wouldn't have a choice about my virginity where he was concerned. Not unless we do this. Sneak out, have a good time, and if the opportunity arises, then have our first times.

"Maybe that'll be a deal breaker." Katja chuckles. "If you can find someone tonight and lose it, then maybe Mikhail will not want to get married. Free you from this."

"Oh, God, Mara would kill me." The idea appeals, though, and I climb to my feet, brushing my hands down my skirt. "I just want someone who won't know me and will treat me nice. An experience I'm in control of, y'know?"

Katja also climbs to her feet and adjusts her uniform. Then she gathers the cushions and begins to return them to the chairs.

"Okay, so. If your father is going to be busy with that meeting, that might work in our favor. All we have to do is find a way to call a taxi, but I have a plan for that."

"A plan?" Moving to the window seat, I settle down and press a hand against the cold glass, cuddling my book to my chest. We're so close to this night, so close to an amazing time, yet now that we're hours away, nerves curl in my gut. Is it nerves from getting caught? Or because Kristof is here and isn't factored into the plan?

"Petar," Katja says and sits next to me, cracking open a water bottle. "I think he'll let me borrow his phone. Then I can call a taxi and have it meet us outside."

"Ahh, Petar. The one you don't have a crush on?" I tease lightly.

"Hey! At least he's not my godfather."

"Touché." I chuckle, then a deep sigh rises from my chest. "I really need this, Katja. I need something to give me life. Otherwise, I'm going to wither away. I hate it here, I hate this life, I hate everything. I just want…" Trailing off, words fail me.

Katja takes my hand and pats my knuckles. "Trust me. We've been careful. We've been thoughtful. We're going to go out there and have the best time ever. We'll be wild and–and sexy and bold and free, and then when we come back, we'll have this good little secret to hold."

"What if we don't come back?" I glance at Katja as her brow lifts.

"Alena…"

"I mean it, what if we don't come back?"

"You know we have to."

She says what I'm thinking without really saying it. No matter what happens, even if we decide to stay out and run away, my father would find us. He's the Pakhan, and nothing hides from him, not for long.

"I know," I relent softly. "It's a nice dream, though."

"Nicer than Kristof?" Katja teases, trying to lift my spirits.

"Maybe."

Katja quickly dissolves into hyping up our plan, talking about all the fun we can get up to, but despite my attempts to focus on that, her mention of Kristof has my mind wandering right back to my handsome godfather.

No matter how hard I've tried to derail that, I"ve yearned for him for a year. He claimed me the moment he kissed me. That rough, hard kiss has ruined me for anyone else, and even as we toy with the idea of finding men tonight, the truth in my heart is clear. No one else will compare. He's ruined me for everyone else, yet he's the one man I can't have.

Somehow, I need to find someone who can make me forget him.