Page 62 of The Mafia Bloodline
That earned a laugh from Ivan. “He wasn’t joking, either.”
I groaned, sinking back into the pillows. “Wonderful. I’m pregnant, confined, and apparently under guard.”
“Welcome to the Dragic family,” Ivan said dryly.
Despite myself, I smiled. It was strange for all the danger, for all the insanity that came with their world, I didn’t feel like an outsider anymore. Between Sorcha, Layla, the changelings, and these infuriatingly protective men, I’d found something that looked suspiciously like home.
Still, my chest ached for Volken. I could feel him faintly through the bond, it is distant, muted, but there. The hum of his presence like a heartbeat under the surface of my thoughts. He was worried. Tired. Angry, mostly at himself.
“Tell him I’m okay,” I said softly. “Tell him to rest.”
Gideon nodded. “I will.”
“Promise?”
He hesitated…then, with a rare softness, said, “On my life.”
That was the thing about these men.
They didn’t make promises lightly.
And as the doctor entered the room a few minutes later, checking monitors and murmuring reassurances, I let my eyesclose again as the faint pulse of Volken’s bond in the back of my mind the only thing keeping the fear away.
He’d be back at nightfall, and until then, I’d rest because I understood what he meant when he said our child is everything.
It wasn’t just his vow anymore. It was mine too.
The room had settled into a soft hum of quiet, the rhythmic beeping of the monitor, the faint hiss of air conditioning, the muted voices from the hallway.
Sleep came slowly, pulling me under in fits and starts. I drifted somewhere between waking and dreaming, lulled by the steady thrum of my baby’s heartbeat echoing in my mind. For the first time in days, the air didn’t feel heavy with fear just warmth and exhaustion.
Until the noise started.
At first, I thought it was just part of my half-sleep a dull, distant sound, like someone dragging metal along concrete. But then came a thud, sharp and real, followed by another, heavier one. Voices rose in the hallway too low to make out at first, then rising in pitch.
A growl and it didn’t sound human.
My eyes snapped open just as the monitor beside me began to stutter, matching my racing heart.
“Gideon?” I called, my voice hoarse.
No answer.
I tried to sit up, but the IV pulled taut, tangling around my wrist. Panic surged through me as I heard the unmistakable sound of scuffling boots on tile, a body slamming into a wall.
Then came the sound that shattered the world.
CRACK!
The window exploded inward in a hail of glass and cold air. I screamed as shards flew across the bed, glittering like knives under the fluorescent lights. The curtains snapped violently, and the force of the blast threw my tray table to the floor, scattering medical supplies everywhere.
A dark shape landed on the edge of the window frame, it was tall, broad, eyes glinting a sickly gold.
Ademon.
My pulse spiked so hard I thought I might pass out.
Before I could move, Gideon burst through the door, his weapon already drawn. His usually calm face was hard as steel, his eyes glowing faintly, his fangs bared. “Runa, stay down!”
