Page 34

Please let it be her.
It was.
I sank onto my knees by her side, my chest hollowing at the paleness of Bridget’s face and the large, purplish bruise on her forehead. A small trickle of blood dripped down the side of her face, turning pink when it mingled with the rain. She was unconscious and completely soaked through.
A snarling, protective beast rose in my chest with such ferocity it stunned me.
Viggo was as good as dead. If he hadn’t dragged his feet, if someone had fucking called me and told me Bridget was missing…
I forced myself to push the anger aside for now. I had more important things to focus on.
I checked her pulse, which was weak but steady. Thank God. I quickly scanned the rest of her for signs of injury. Normal breathing, no broken limbs, and no blood except for the cut on her forehead. Her helmet was askew, and dirt smeared her cheeks and clothes.
The beast in my chest snarled again, ready to rip not only Viggo but Nikolai to shreds for not protecting her, or at least being there for her.
He probably couldn’t have done anything to prevent Bridget from falling off her horse—judging by her helmet and position on the ground, that must’ve been what happened—but the beast didn’t care. All it knew was she was hurt, and for that, someone had to pay.
Later.
I needed to get her to the doctor first.
I cursed again when I realized I had no cell service. The storm must’ve knocked it out.
Standard medical advice said I shouldn’t move an injured person without professionals present, but I had no choice.
I scooped Bridget up in my arms and carried her to the cart, supporting her neck with one hand. We made it halfway when I heard a low groan.
My heart tripped again. “Princess, you awake?” I kept my voice even, not wanting to panic and scare her.
Bridget let out another groan, her eyes fluttering open. “Mr. Larsen? What are you doing? What happened?” She tried to twist her head to look around, but I stopped her with a firm squeeze on her thigh.
“You’re injured. Don’t move unless you absolutely have to.” We reached the cart, and I set her carefully in the passenger seat before I took the driver’s seat and turned on the engine. Relief flooded my veins, so thick it almost choked me.
She was okay. She might have a concussion, judging by the bruise, but she was conscious and talking and alive.
“Do you remember what happened?” I wanted to speed back to the palace, which had an in-house doctor, but I forced myself to drive slowly to minimize any bumps and jerky movements.
Bridget touched her forehead with a wince. “I was riding and…there was a branch. I didn’t see it until it was too late.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “My head hurts, and everything’s blurry.”
Dammit. Concussion for sure.
My hands strangled the wheel, which I pictured as Viggo’s neck. “We’ll be at the palace soon. For now, just relax and don’t force yourself to talk.”
Of course, she didn’t listen.
“How did you find me?” Bridget spoke slower than usual, and the faint note of pain in her voice made my stomach lurch.
“I looked.” I parked the cart near the back entrance. “You should fire your deputy security chief. He’s a moron. If I hadn’t found you, he’d still have his people searching the inside of the palace like—what?”
“How long did you look for me?” Bridget gave me a strange look, one that made my heart twist in the oddest way.
“Don’t remember,” I grunted. “Let’s get you inside. You’re soaked.”
“So are you.” She stayed in the cart. “Did you…you looked for me in the rain by yourself?”
“Like I said, Viggo is a moron. Inside, princess. You need that cut and bruise looked at. You probably have a concussion.”
“I’m okay.” But Bridget didn’t argue when I slipped my arm around her waist and her arm around my neck, letting her use me as a crutch as we walked inside.
Luckily, the doctor’s office wasn’t too far from the back entrance, and when she saw the state Bridget was in, she sprang into action.
While she patched Bridget’s forehead up and gave her a more thorough check for injuries, I dried off in the bathroom and waited in the hall. I didn’t trust myself not to look at Bridget’s bruise and cut and not lose my shit.
The sound of rapid footsteps filled the hall, and my lip peeled back in a snarl when I saw Nikolai running toward me, followed by Viggo and Elin. One of the staff must’ve alerted them when they saw me and Bridget.
Perfect. I needed to let off some steam.
“Is Bridget okay?” the prince asked, his face worried.
“For the most part. The doctor’s checking her out now.” I waited until Nikolai was inside the doctor’s office before I turned my attention to Viggo.
“You.” I grabbed the collar of Viggo’s shirt and lifted him until his feet dangled in the air. “I told you she was outside. Any damn person with common sense would know she was outside, yet you wasted an hour searching indoors while Bridget was unconscious in the rain.”
“Mr. Larsen!” Elin sounded scandalized. “This is the royal palace, not a dive bar where you brawl with other patrons. Put Viggo down.”
I ignored her and lowered my voice until only Viggo could hear me. “You better pray the princess isn’t seriously hurt.”
“Are you threatening me?” he sputtered.
“Yes.”