Page 138 of His Prince

Emotions shouldn’t be this strong. I never want to feel this way again.

“I can’t…I need air…,” I whisper, my dad pulling me into his arms.

“I know, son. I know how you feel. I do. It will pass, but right now, focus on him. Focus on one breath at a time.”

“I can’t,” I gasp and hold on to him tighter. “I can’t.”

“You can. You’re stronger than you know. You’re so strong, Angelo.”

I don’t believe it. I should have been stronger. I should have planned all of it better, but the minute I saw Mikhail tied up, hisface bruised and bloody, Daniil and that woman looking far too sinister, I couldn’t even think. I just put bullets in them.

It’s something I’ll have to cope with later. Taking the life of another.

Right now, I have no regrets. They hurt him.

He was so fucking hurt. The pain in his voice, in his eyes.

I gasp, straining to inhale, but my lungs contract, and I find myself suffocating.

“I have a sedative,” George says from somewhere in the room. I can’t see past my tears. “If he needs it.”

“He needs Mikhail,” my dad says for me because I can’t bring myself to speak. I’m shutting down.

Murmurs move through the room, but I can’t hear them. I’m curled up on my father’s lap, trying to find some sort of comfort from his presence. But it’s hard. I can’t glean enough.

I can’t.

It’s not possible. At this moment, I’m nothing more than flesh and bones, a whimpering mess of nothing. I’m nothing without him.

“I want to see him.”

“I don’t know if you should,” George says, but I insist, pushing up so I’m sitting upright, and I point at him. “I want to fucking see him.”

I want to curl into his side and listen to him breathe. I know his lungs are barely pulling in air. But it’s just enough to give me hope.

He’s alive, but barely.

He may not make it.

“Please.” It’s just a whisper, but it’s enough. George inclines his chin and helps me up. My dad drapes his arm around me, pulling me into his chest. I know he’s trying to comfort me, but nothing can. Nothing.

I’m distraught and broken. Daniil and that woman wanted to hurt me and they have.

They succeeded even in death.

“He’s right up here,” my dad says softly as I cling to him, stumbling over my own two feet.

After we escaped the warehouse, smoke and flames following us into the shipyard, we brought Mikhail to the hospital for emergency surgery. The surgeon was suggested by Vera. She knows someone who has always been discreet and the police weren’t called. After that, it’s all been a blur. I’ve just waited. And waited.

The doctor came out, his face grim.

They did all they could, and there was nothing else to be done, except wait.

So we did. We waited two days, and he still didn’t wake up.

We finally transported him home, along with Casey and Gael, who are still recovering.

And now I’m waiting again.

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