Page 81 of His Prince
“Nothing’s broken,” he replies, his voice much too far away. I wish I could see him, wish there was something other than this heavy blackness all around us. Then I hear it, the flick of a lighter and then the shadows of Mikhail’s face appear. He reaches and drags a cigarette up to his mouth. It’s tightly packed in there, but he manages to slide it between his lips and lights it.
“How did you end up down here?” I ask, the scent of smoke drifting up to meet me. All I can see now is the shape of his face in the light of the orange glow of the cigarette.
“I was exploring one of the many tunnels Bane discovered and someone was down there. Waiting for me.”
Chills move across my skin and I shift closer to the wall to myright, facing the tunnel once more—not that I’ll see anyone looming there. I can’t see anything but Mikhail ten feet in the ground.
“Whoever it was hit me over the head and dragged me down here. When I woke up…well, it’s a good thing you found me.”
“I thought you were avoiding me.” Guilt settles in the middle of my chest, warring with the fear that is settling somewhere in the pit of my stomach. I suddenly feel nauseous, my head swimming.
“No,” he says grumpily. “I was just planning my funeral. All alone down here.”
I let out a huff of laughter and then watch the orange glow between his lips as he inhales it.
“Did you know about this place?”
“No. I know nothing of these secret passageways. I don’t know who created them, but it wasn’t me.”
“Oh…that’s not good.”
“It’s not. Whoever made these…they did it secretly.”
Just as he says that, Bane appears with Gael, Felix, and Casey in tow.
Casey tugs me to my feet, wrapping me in his arms and holding me tightly while Gael and Felix get to work putting a makeshift rope ladder down the oubliette. Moments later, Mikhail appears, blood seeping from the wound on his head, his shirt torn, his arms scratched to pieces.
Not that he seems to feel it. He just stubs out his cigarette and pulls out another, lighting it up with a slight tremble in his hand.
“Glad you’re okay, boss,” Felix says, but Mikhail’s eyes settle on me, his lips turned down when he sees me pressed up against Casey.
Without another thought, I let go of Casey and move toward him, gingerly grabbing his arm and leading him forward. I notice a slight limp in his step and I glance back at the men who are following us.
“Have George come to our room.”
“I’m fine.”
“You are not. You will do as you’re told,” I hiss, and he grumbles under his breath, something in Russian.
We continue to move down the tunnel, my steps slower than normal because Mikhail seems to be slightly wilting.
“Almost there, Mikhail,” I whisper, knowing he won’t want to seem weak in front of his men.
“I’m fine,” he says, dragging his arm back slightly and forcing our hands together. His fingers link with mine, and I swallow back the emotion welling up within me.
He’s holding my hand.
My husband is holding onto me.
I blink back tears as we make it to the exit, his hand leaving mine as we all climb back into the house, dirt sprinkling the floors. Nina makes an appearance, a frown on her face, tsking at us as she drags a vacuum across the floor, but she goes ignored.
I’m more concerned about Mikhail. My arm moves around his waist as I lead him straight to our room where I pull the cigarette from his lips and start to peel the clothes from him. He lets me strip him down, his body leaning against the counter until he’s completely naked.
And then he steps into the shower, listing against the wall, his chin meeting his chest. The water spills down him, blood and dirt moving off his pale skin and down the drain. He makes no move to wash himself, just stands there, eyes closed, chest moving up and down steadily.
Without another thought, I peel my clothes off and step in beside him, grabbing some soap and gently taking his hand in mine, rubbing the bar up and down his skin, gently so as not to aggravate his scrapes.
“You don’t need to do this.”