Page 19 of His Prince (Unexpectedly Twisted #2)

17

ANGEL

“ W here’s Mikhail?” I ask as dinner rolls around and he hasn’t made an appearance. His absence is stabbing at my heart and I hate this for me.

I hate that I let him in and felt something.

And he’s ghosted me.

This is why I can’t ever hope, it’s why I can’t ever let myself fall again.

It only leads to me getting hurt.

“I’ll murder him,” Casey says when he catches me sniffling near the stove.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” he hisses and then huffs in annoyance when Bane slides up next to me, nuzzling into me and biting down on my ear.

“Would you like me to show you something that will make you feel better?”

I glance at him through watery eyes and nod, setting the spoon down and leaving Casey to take over.

“Don’t worry, Casey-boo, I’ll take care of my Angel.”

Casey glowers at him, and Bane giggles. “He always turns me on when he frowns at me like that. But, sadly, he wants nothing to do with me. I’ve tried and was turned down.”

“How did you try?” I ask as Bane walks me down the hallway toward the guest rooms.

“I snuck into his room naked. He was not impressed. Said there was too much blood on me, but I know that’s not true.” He giggles and then waggles his eyebrows. “There’s never enough blood.”

Bane’s antics have my lips turning up at the corners. Of course he’s managed to make me smile. He’s ridiculous.

“What is it?” I ask as he locks me in a room and scrambles around on the floor, his fingers digging into the boards. Something suddenly pops, a small door opening, and he grins at me.

“Wanna see where this goes?”

I stare down into the hole, darkness glaring back at me, and then I meet Bane’s excited gaze.

“Have you been down here?”

“Duh! It’s the coolest one. Wanna see?”

I glance around, wondering if perhaps Mikhail is watching me from a camera hidden in the room.

“Yeah, show me.”

Bane hops down, turning on a flashlight he had tucked in his torn jeans, and helps me into the tunnel, giggling wildly.

“There are so many different ones around here. In the walls, under the floors, but this one is fucking cool. Oh, and remind me to show you the box I found. I think you’ll be very interested to see what’s inside.”

He bounds off, and I have to nearly jog to keep up with him, my arms brushing the sides of the dirt walls.

“Bane! Wait up,” I say as I trip over something on the ground.

Bane slows down for a moment before bouncing on his feet. “Hurry up. No time to waste. ”

When I finally get close enough to reach out and touch him, he links his hand with mine and pulls me forward.

A moment later, Bane stops abruptly and then points to the ground.

“What is it?” I ask, and Bane waggles his eyebrows.

“An oubliette.”

“What?”

“A secret dungeon.”

“Why would that be here?”

“Because Mikhail obviously has a dark side. I’ve been begging your dad for one of these for ages. You put people in here and leave them to die.”

“You know I don’t approve of any of that.”

“Yes, but it’s such fun. Look.”

Bane flashes his light downward and just as he does, a low groan rises up from the darkness and Bane screams.

“Mikhail?” I ask, my heart thrumming in my ears. Between Bane screaming loudly and the fear that’s ripping through me, I’m slightly off-kilter. I blink and then feel someone nearly crawling up my back.

“Bane, stop it,” I hiss, swatting at him until he finally pries himself off of me, and then I grab his flashlight.

“Fuck, sorry, but I was not expecting someone to be down there,” he says, laughing wildly. “That made me pee my pants a little,” he adds as we both walk to the edge of the oubliette and look down.

And as the flashlight winks in the darkness, I see Mikhail there, in a small three-by-three-foot space, his face smeared with blood and dirt, his hair completely matted down, his lips cracked dry. My mouth opens and closes, unsure of what to do, what to say.

“What are you doing down there?” Bane asks with a waggle of his fingers .

“Came here for a nap,” Mikhail murmurs dryly, and Bane giggles maniacally.

“He’s funny.”

I nudge Bane to get him to be quiet; this is no laughing matter. My husband fell down a hole and is bleeding. “We need to get him out. He’s hurt. Go back and get the guys. Tell them it’s an emergency.”

Bane bounces on his toes and then glances at the flashlight in my hand. “I’ll need that. Don’t want to end up in one of those, too. Then we’ll just die in here.”

“God, Bane,” I reply and then lower myself to the ground, stones and damp dirt seeping through my pants as I move as close to the edge as I can. I want to do this while I can still see because pretty soon it’s just gonna be the two of us engulfed in the dark.

“I’ll be back as fast as Superman can fly,” Bane says excitedly and then he’s gone, disappearing through the tunnel, darkness consuming Mikhail and me like a veil.

“Mikhail?”

“Yes, husband?”

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” It’s a silly question, but I need to know. I need him to be okay.

“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 my right, 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.”

“I do. You’re my husband. In sickness and in health.”

His wet lashes flutter slightly and then he looks away, letting me wash him in silence.

When I’m happy that he’s clean, I help him out and wrap him in a towel before leading him to the bed, tucking him in despite his grumbles.

“I’m fine. I need to get back to work.”

“Not until George clears you.”

He leans back against the pillow, and I stand up to move, clad only in a towel wrapped around my waist, but he reaches out and grabs on to my wrist, holding me in place.

“Stay, sólnyshko.”

I feel my bottom lip wobble and I pull it between my teeth, keeping the emotion at bay. I will not cry. I fucking won’t.

Thankfully, George appears seconds later, striding in with a very serious look on his face.

“Got hit on the head again? You must be more careful.”

Mikhail glowers at him, and when I try to move so that George can have better access to him, Mikhail’s grip on me tightens.

George’s eyes narrow slightly, but he says nothing else, just begins the examination while I’m held in place by Mikhail, his fingers tightening on my wrist. One by one, I peel them away and link my hand with his, and he seems to relax slightly, my thumb stroking over the back of his hand.

“You should refrain from getting hit in the head again this week.”

“He didn’t plan it, George. Someone was in the tunnel with him.”

Mikhail says something in Russian, and I frown.

“I’d really prefer it if you’d speak in English so I can know what you’re saying.”

George looks at me just as Bane stumbles into the room, completely covered in filth and waggling something around in his hand.

“Oh, hi there, handsome.”

George ignores him, but I can make out a slight clench of his jaw.

“Anyways, I found something when I went back into the murder tunnel.”

He holds out his hand, and it’s then that we see it .

“It’s a dying rose. It was just lying there on the ground, and I definitely didn’t see this the first ten times I went down there.”

Mikhail stares at it, his face paling, his hand squeezing mine so tightly it hurts.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” I ask, leaning toward him.

“Take that out of here. Take it the fuck out.”

Bane stares at it and then places it behind his back. “I will if I can get your number.”

George peers over his shoulder at him. “Never.”

Bane sighs and then inches closer to him. “I mean, anything else you’d like? Anal? Blow jobs? A nice handy? I’d also settle for a spanking…”

“Bane,” I chastise. “Enough.”

He shrinks back and looks almost sheepish. “It was worth a shot.”

And then he tears from the room, leaving Mikhail staring after him. He’s regained some color in his cheeks but I can feel how cold his skin is against mine.

I want to crawl in next to him and warm him, wrap my arms around him, and just let him sink into me.

But I don’t. I have to remember that’s not what this is.

“You’re fine. Just stay away from dark tunnels,” George says.

“I need to speak with you, Georgiy.”

I know when I’m being dismissed. His hand slips from mine and he stands up, wobbling slightly, but moving to the closet to get dressed. Of course, George says nothing, just waits for me to leave so they can converse without me in earshot.

I don’t like it, but I know where I stand in this house.

I’m nothing.

I pull on some clothes and slide out of the room, moving outside to the garden to find solace in the plants, the trees, the insects that are noisily buzzing away. And even though I’m not totally alone, Casey discreetly following behind me, I pretend I am.

It’s just me in this world .

I have no one. Not really.

I lose myself in the garden until the sun sets and Casey moves closer, trying to get me to go inside, but I’m not ready yet. I’m not wanted there.

I sniffle and swipe at my eyes, biting down on my lip to keep myself from crying.

I’m always fucking crying. I wish I were tougher, like my brother or my dad.

I wish I were anyone else at this moment.

“Where is he?” Mikhail’s voice grumps from the far end of the yard and just the sound of it has my heart thumping excitedly in my chest.

No, I need to be upset. I need to be angry about being unloved and dismissed.

But as soon as he nears, I peer up at him as his hand reaches out and touches my cheek, his thumb brushing softly against it.

“Sólnyshko, come inside. It’s late and getting cold.”

“I’m busy,” I say even though my head tucks into his palm. “And you should be resting.”

“I would be if you were where you needed to be.”

“I would have been inside if you’d asked me to stay.”

His hand falls from me and his lips turn down into a frown. “There are things that don’t concern you.”

“We’re married. It all concerns me.”

His eye twitches and his hands slip into the pockets of his slacks.

“I know where I stand,” I say and turn around, deciding I’ll sleep out here tonight. Suddenly, I’m spun around and lifted into his arms.

“Mikhail!” I cry out, but he’s already striding forward. I can do nothing but wrap my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist, and hold on. “You’re injured.”

“You need to come inside,” he replies, not even short on breath as he moves. He’s so strong, even when he’s hurt. “And I know how stubborn you are when you’re angry at me.”

“I am mad. Very mad.”

He stops moving, and I glance down at him, his lips so impossibly close. I want to kiss them. I want to taste him.

“So mad,” I whisper, and the air seems to crackle between us.

My fingers slip into his hair and curl tightly, making him grunt.

“Oh, shoot, you’re hurt.”

“You can’t hurt me,” he replies and then continues walking until we’re in our room, my feet firmly on the floor. Mikhail reaches out and starts divesting me of my clothes until I’m completely naked, and I shouldn’t let him do this.

I shouldn’t, but I do.

“Get in bed,” he orders, and I glance down at my dirty hands and back up at him.

“But I’m filthy.”

His eyes twinkle and then his hands are on me again, picking me up and tossing me backward. I land with a loud oomph and then watch as he prowls toward me.

“Mikhail, you need to rest.”

“I’ll rest when you do.”

I gasp when his body covers mine, not touching me, not touching me nearly enough.

“Don’t be mad at me, sólnyshko. I just needed to discuss what happened with Georgiy. I don’t trust anyone but him.”

“You can trust me,” I say, and his eyes shutter slightly.

“I can’t, my little devil. I trust no one.”

And then he rolls off me and faces the ceiling, his hands above his head, the shirt he buttoned up haphazardly straining against his chest.

“Why don’t you trust? What happened to you?”

He doesn’t answer, just continues to stare up at nothing.

“You can tell me.”

“I can’t. ”

“I don’t even know you. You know everything about me, and I know nothing about you. I was so stupid to marry you.”

Mikhail’s head turns toward me and his nostrils flare.

“And yet it’s too late. You’re mine.”

“I wish I weren’t.”

He rolls over with a wince, his body now right against mine, his hand hovering above my neck.

“You can wish all you want, but you’re here with me. Get used to it.”

I reach out and grab his hand bringing it to my neck, feeling his fingers settle against my throat.

They squeeze gently, his thumb brushing against my Adam’s apple.

“I can feel your heart beating. For me.”

“It’s beating to keep me alive. It’s what it does.”

His nose lowers to my cheek, dragging it up over my skin. “I can feel the way it races for me.”

I can’t even deny it. My pulse is thrumming the closer he gets to me. His body shifts on top of mine, and my fingers move to the buttons on his shirt, slowly peeling the fabric from his chest.

“Are we touching now, my little Angel?”

“If you are then so am I,” I reply and then let my fingers drag down his chest, feeling the rough hair beneath my palms, his muscles flexing as he arches up further, giving me access to his abdomen and the waist of his pants. My fingers curl into the fabric around his waist and I tug, pulling him closer to me, further on top of my body.

I want him closer.

I’m so mad, but I want him near.

Mikhail’s chest heaves, long inhaled breaths in, only to be pushed out as I work his pants open, my hand sliding in and cupping his hard cock.

His nostrils flare, the tendons in his neck pushing out from his skin. I lean up and bite down on his throat, making him grunt, his cock hardening in my hand. My tongue drags up his neck to his cheek and I arch upward, biting down on the lobe of his ear, his breath hitting my skin as he pushes closer. His chest is on mine, his hands curling around my back and holding me to him.

I want him naked and pressed up against me.

I want him to completely own me.

I let my hands drag up his back, and we hold each other—his body on mine, almost suffocating me, our hearts beating in tandem—until he finally pushes up and off of me. I make a sound to protest, but I watch as he shucks the rest of his clothes, fully exposing himself to me. He’s so fucking hot, I almost lose the ability to breathe.

“What do you think, sólnyshko? Do you like what you see?”

“Yes,” I breathe, and his lips curve up at the corners.

“Do you know what I thought about when I was stuck in that hole?”

“What?” I ask as he stalks over to me, his pupils blown out, his cock straining toward me.

“I regretted never kissing you properly.”