Page 67 of The Mafia Bloodline
His fury was instant and feral.He bared his fangs, low growl vibrating through his chest. “I let this happen, I fuckin let this happen?”
“Volken…”
He rounded on the nearest changeling guard outside the door, his voice a whip. “You were supposed to protect her! There’s glass on the bed! On her…”
“Volken!” I snapped, reaching for his wrist. “Stop it. I’m fine. It’s over.”
He turned back to me, still trembling with rage, but his eyes softened the moment they met mine. He came closer, cupping my face in his blood-stained hands. “I thought I lost you,” he whispered.
“You didn’t.” My voice was small, the adrenaline fading. “You found me.”
His lips crushed against mine, a desperate kiss, tasting of smoke and blood and relief. I kissed him back, clinging to him, needing the reminder that he was real.
When we finally pulled apart, the air between us was thick with tension and exhaustion. I swallowed hard. “Take me home.”
His eyes flicked open, startled. “What?”
“I said take me home. I’m not staying here another minute.”
His brows drew together, sharp. “You’re not leaving this room. Not after…”
“I said I’m fine.”
“Runa!”
“Volken.” My tone was steady, though my hands shook. “I want to go home. Please. I’ll be safer there than in a hospital crawling with demons.”
He exhaled harshly, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not thinking clearly. You were attacked; you’re still shaking…”
“Then you stay with me.” I tried to swing my legs off the bed. “Problem solved.”
The instant my feet touched the floor, pain lanced through my abdomen, white-hot and sudden. My breath caught.
“Runa?”
I froze, clutching my stomach. “I…it’s fine. I just moved too fast.”
But it wasn’t. The pain came again, deeper this time, radiating through my back, sharp enough to make me gasp.
Volken was on me in an instant, his hands catching me as my knees buckled. “No. No, no, no…what’s happening?”
“I…I think…” The words broke off into a cry as another wave hit.
He scooped me up in his arms, shouting for the doctor, his voice cracking with fear. “Get the doctor in here! Now!”
The changelings rushed in, the doctor right behind them, still pale from the earlier attack. He pushed Volken back immediately. “Out of my way!”
Volken didn’t move. “She’s in pain. Do something!”
The doctor’s voice was steady, professional, but I saw the flicker of concern in his eyes as he checked me. “She’s contracting. The stress must have triggered early labour.”
“What?” Volken’s voice dropped an octave, more a growl than speech.
The doctor looked up at him grimly. “The baby is trying to come. It’s too soon. If we don’t act now, both she and the child are at risk.”
Volken’s face went still, too still. I’d never seen that kind of terror in him before. He went utterly silent for a long second, then his body started to shake.
“No.” He backed up a step, eyes wild. “No, you fix it. You fix her.”
