Page 25 of Dark Prince

The collision is forceful enough to cause the attacker to drop his blade, which hits the floor with a clatter. Relief washes through me, but the fight’s not over. Once the attacker’s advantage is neutralized, Grigori slams his fist hard into the assailant’s jaw. Another punch connects with his stomach, and that’s all the man can take. He drops to his knees, and Grigori quickly restrains him.

“Get in here, you idiots!”

Two guards rush into the room, restrain the attacker with zip ties, and carry him out.

“I’ll deal with him later,” Grigori says matter-of-factly.

Once the intruder is dragged out of the room, Grigori turns his full attention to me. His approach is quick but measured, his concern evident in the set of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze. The adrenaline that had fueled my survival instincts just moments ago begins to wane, leaving behind a cocktail of emotions—relief, shock, and an unsettling realization of how close I came to real harm or possibly death.

“Are you all right?” Grigori asks, his voice carrying a depth of genuine concern. He scans me for any signs of injury, his presence a comforting solidity in the wake of unexpected chaos.

I nod, still trying to process what just happened while dealing with the aftereffects of the adrenaline surge. “Y-yes, I think so,” I manage to say, my voice steadier than I feel. The reassurance that I'm physically unharmed does little to quell the internal turmoil, fear, and vulnerability that lingers.

He glances at my arm, and I suddenly notice a red slash mark. I barely register it, the adrenaline still in charge of my reactions.

“You’re hurt,” Grigori says.

“It’s nothing. Really. I don’t even feel it.”

He snorts, “Not right now, you don’t. Luk is not going to like this—not one bit.”

Chapter 14

Luk

Anger courses through me as I march down the hallway, each step heavy with self-inflicted fury simmering within. How could I have allowed myself to become so ensnared in the trivial aspects of my work, isolating myself in my study, far from where I truly needed to be? The fact that I wasn't there for Maura when she needed me ignites a storm of self-criticism within me.

Catching sight of Grigori stationed near Maura's door brings a momentary pause to the raging storm within. Deciding to put him on watch, to alert me the moment Maura emerged from her room, now strikes me as the best single piece of foresight in a fog of errors. The wave of relief at this realization is tangible, momentarily cutting through the anger.

The chilling “what ifs” loom ominously, threatening to pull me into a vortex of grim possibilities I refuse to entertain fully. I forcibly dismiss these thoughts, focusing instead on the present relief, thankful for Grigori's vigilance in my absence.

I walk quickly, my gaze scanning him for any signs of injury. He's unscathed, thank God. Without wasting a moment, I demand, “I need to see Maura.”

Grigori hesitates, a flicker of protest crossing his features, but I'm already moving past him, propelled by the need to see her with my own eyes and to confirm she's safe. I push open the bedroom door, my heart hammering in my chest with fear and urgency.

“Luk, I don’t know if that is a good idea,” I hear him say as I enter the room.

The sight that greets me is one of relief and tension in equal measure. Maura is there, and so is Elena, a scene that's comforting yet fraught with unspoken questions. “Are you okay?” is the first question I manage, and it tumbles out on its own, laced with concern that is resonating deep within me, a vulnerability I'm not accustomed to revealing.

Elena stands when I enter. She approaches me, placing a hand gently but firmly against my chest, a silent command for restraint. “Pause, Luk,” she says, her directive resonating with empathy and authority.

I comply with Elena's request, my body calming under her tender touch. I stand there, my gaze instinctively searching Maura, taking in every detail of her physical state. She's visibly shaken, a vulnerability in her eyes that I've seldom seen. It strikes a chord within me, causing a deep, aching sadness. Worse still, I notice the tension in her body seems to be amplified by my presence, a realization that cuts deeper than any physical wound ever could.

My eyes catch sight of the bandage on her arm. A visceral rage surges within me at the thought of her being hurt, an emotion so potent it feels like it could consume me from the inside out.

Elena seems to sense the growing storm within me. With gentle but insistent guidance, she leads me away from Maura and out into the hallway. The space feels colder and emptier without Maura’s presence, and I ache to be near her.

“She was hurt, but it's just a flesh wound that won’t require stitches,” Elena explains with an undercurrent of serious concern once we're outside of the room. “Right now, what Maura needs is calm, something that you are unable to provide given your current state.”

The words sting, but I know she’s right. The simmering anger inside me begins to subside.

“Stay with her, please. Get her anything she needs,” I instruct, my voice steadier. I am warmly grateful for Elena's unwavering support.

Elena nods, her determination clear. “Of course. I'll keep you updated,” she assures me before slipping back into the room and closing the heavy door that once again separates me from Maura.

I stare at the door for a moment longer, reciting a silent vow to do better, to be what Maura needs in the wake of this ordeal. I turn to Grigori, finding a sense of purpose in taking back control. “Double the security,” I command, the need for action to ensure this never happens again taking precedence.

Grigori meets my purposeful gaze, his expression solemnly agreeing. “Already done. More men are on their way; they’ll be here within the hour,” he responds.