Page 143 of His Prince

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Page 143 of His Prince

“You look so thin,” Mikhail says softly when he’s done drinking.

My fingers brush against his lips, ignoring his comment.

“Yeah, that’s because he wouldn’t leave your side,” Diablo grumbles. “Almost died himself.”

Mikhail’s eyes flash to mine, and I feel my cheeks pinken. “Always take care of yourself. For me, yes?” he says, and I nod, feeling my eyes water once more.

“Okay, I will.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, of course, I promise.”

George finishes his examination with good news, speaking softly to Mikhail in Russian, but then placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing softly.

“He will be fine, but take it easy. He still needs to heal, and youdo as well. And no solid foods for a few more days. I’ll be back to check on him tonight.”

I nod, trying to stifle my tears. I’m suddenly exhausted and rejuvenated and so fucking hungry. For the first time in weeks, I want to live. I want to keep going.

Just as I think that, Ivan appears, his glasses crooked, his cheeks a little red.

“Oh good. Not dead.”

Casey glowers at him, and I can’t help but let out a relieved laugh.

“He is. He’s fine. He’s going to be fine.”

Ivan nods and then meanders out of the room without a backward glance. But I don’t even care because Mikhail is alive and staring up at me.

He’s bruised and battered, but he’s well. He’ll heal.

We have all the time in the world.

“Tell me everything that’s happened while I’ve been asleep,” Mikhail says gently, and I lean into him, nuzzling him carefully and letting him wrap his arms around me tightly.

And I tell him everything I can think of until he falls asleep once more.

33

MIKHAIL

Three weeks later…

“You’re supposed to stay in bed.”

“I’m fucking tired of staying in bed. I’ve been in bed for a month. My muscles are prolapsing.”

Georgiy lets out a small huff. “You mean atrophying.”

“That’s what I meant?”

Georgiy opens his mouth to reply, but I narrow my gaze at him, shutting him up. “Don’t you fucking say a word. I don’t fucking care. I’m just weak, a woman at this point. And where the hell is Angel?”

“In the garden,” Nina says as she appears next to me, sniffing loudly. “You need a bath. You stink. And do not say women are weak. We are much stronger than you.”

I glower at her, but then eat my words. She’s right. I’ve never met a stronger person than her.

“Fine, I concede. I do need a bath. I was just going to head there when Georgiy stopped me.”




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