Page 123 of Deviant Need

He presses his mouth to mine and devours me. I pour everything I’m feeling into it, trying to show him how much he means to me, how completely he owns every part of me.

My hands come up to cradle his head, and I wrap my arms around him, pulling him as close as I can manage without making my injuries worse. When he pulls back, his hand comes up to rub my chin, his thumb gentle against my skin.

“The nurse said we can take you home in a few days,” he says and licks his lips. “They just need you to be able to walk around and handle basic stuff before they’ll let you leave.”

“Sounds good,” I murmur and run my palm over his buzzcut, the short hair rough under my hand.

“I asked for help,” he says out of nowhere.

“Help?”

“With the drugs. The benzos. You know how long I’ve been stuck on them, how many times I tried to quit and couldn’t. I finally asked for help, and they’re giving me meds to manage the withdrawals. It’s fucking awful, and I’ve been snapping at everyone who isn’t you, but I’m doing it.”

My throat tightens. “I’m proud of you.”

He looks at me with sad eyes and leans down to press his lips against my forehead.

“Can I ask you what happened during the stabbing? What Roman said to you and what he did⁠—”

“No,” he says, cutting me off before I can finish.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I slide my hand down to lace with his and hold on tight. Pushing him won’t work, and I know it. I wish he would tell me what happened, but he thinks staying quiet protects me somehow. So I’ll be patient and wait until he’s ready, even if not knowing tears me apart.

Chapter 29

Daniil

We pull up to the estate gates and the family crest stares back at me, the black metal wolf with the skeleton key in its mouth. The driver pulls through, and we wind up the long driveway toward the white mansion with its black roof and massive modern windows. Behind it there’s a pool that connects to what used to be the guest house, and I can see our childhood home in the distance.

Lina wants us here for safety. It makes sense given everything that’s happened. It’s just a prettier version of being locked up, but whatever. I’m too exhausted to care.

Mikhail gets out and comes around to my side, helping me out and grabbing my elbow to steer me toward the entrance. “We moved everything from the apartment. Haven’t unpacked yet though,” he says, glancing over at me as we step through the door.

Lina’s sitting on the couch with her phone. She looks up when we walk in and gestures to the couch facing her. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you the truth about what happened when you were young. We kept it from you because we thought we were protecting you. I know that sounds selfish, but we believed it was the right choice at the time.”

We head to the couch, and Mikhail helps me down before sitting beside me. Once we’re both settled, he nods at her to continue.

She takes a breath, then looks at us. “When Roman came to America, he took New York from the Nozares family. Everyone knows that story. He had to be ruthless to secure the territory before bringing us over, so he took out every single one of them. During that time, he started hearing rumors that Santiago had gotten some whore pregnant. She was German, and Santiago sent her back home.”

My brain is trying to process what she’s saying, and I nod.

She clears her throat and sighs. “Roman searched for information about this woman because he wanted to know if there were loose ends Santiago might use against us later. He tracked her to Germany and went there to see for himself. The place was a disaster, littered with trash and animals, falling apart at the seams. The woman, Mia, your biological mother, was a drug addict. No one knows if Santiago was aware of that when he sent her away. Roman cleared out the entire place and killed everyone there.”

She takes a breath before continuing. “When Roman was about to leave, he heard crying coming from underneath the floorboards. He had to search the whole house for the source, and it took him forever because the sound was muffled, echoing through the walls. He finally found you under the floor in the back room, crying, covered in dirt. You were so little and malnourished that he said it would have been a mercy to kill you, but he didn’t do it. Instead he took you and faked your death. Sent them pictures of a dead toddler from police evidence to make it believable. I had just miscarried twins a few months before, so he brought you to me.”

She swallows. “But you were in such bad shape that we had to take you to the hospital immediately. You spent a month there fighting infections while I visited every day. You had cuts and burns and bruises all over your body, faded black ones, yellow ones, fresh ones everywhere. Scabs and open wounds that kept getting infected. You almost died in the first week at the hospital. It was horrific, Daniil. We took you in, changed your name, gave you the Avrorin name, and raised you as ours. That’s the entire story.”

I don’t know what to do with any of this. My brain refuses to grasp or understand any of that. All of that happened to me?

Mikhail pulls out his phone and scrolls to the questions I prepared. “Does Santiago know he’s his son and that he’s alive?”

“No,” she says, tapping her fingers against her knee. “The attack wasn’t connected to this. They were just trying to sabotage our operations. I got reports that Mateo Nozares was there though, no one knows why. We’re setting up peace negotiations with them now thanks to Yulian. No more attacks. They accepted because Roman is dead.”

Mikhail and I exchange a look.

“Did Danya have anything with him when you found him?” Mikhail asks, reading another question.

“No. Just the elephant.”