Page 28 of Blade's Princess

I slip out of the office, keeping to the shadows as I make my way back to the exit route we planned. As I pass through the foyer, footsteps sound on the upper landing. I freeze, pressing myself against the wall.

"Hello? Is someone there?" A female voice calls out, young and entitled—one of Sophie's cousins. "I swear to God, if that's you trying to scare me again, Brittany, I'm telling Mom!"

I don't answer, don't breathe, my body completely still as the footsteps move to the top of the stairs. If she comes down, I'll have nowhere to hide. My hand moves to my knife instinctively.

"Hello?" she calls again, more uncertain this time. A long pause, then a dramatic sigh. "Whatever."

The footsteps retreat, but I wait until I hear a door close before moving again. Sweat beads on my forehead despite the cool air. Too close.

Moving quickly now, I exit through the side door, making sure it latches behind me. The lawn is clear, the guards still on their prescribed route on the far side of the property. I keep to the shadows, making my way back to where the van waits, engine idling softly.

The side door slides open as I approach, and I slip inside to find Max huddled in the back, Ghost's thermal spread beneathhim as a makeshift bed. The dog looks at me warily, but there's no growl, just exhausted acceptance.

I reach out carefully, letting him sniff my hand again before gently stroking his head. He allows it, leaning into the touch after a moment. "We got you, boy," I murmur. “You’re safe now.”

By the time we arrive at the clubhouse, it's close to 4 AM. The compound is quiet, most of the brothers asleep except for those on security detail. As we pull up to the main building, the front door opens, spilling warm light onto the gravel.

Sophie stands in the doorway, Angel beside her, both women wrapped in oversized hoodies against the night chill. Sophie's face is pale with worry, her hands clutched tightly together. She hasn't slept—I can see it in the shadows under her eyes, the tension in her slender frame.

When she spots the van, she rushes forward, bare feet on cold gravel, seemingly oblivious to the discomfort in her desperation to see Max.

"Did you find him? Is he okay?" Her voice breaks with fear and hope.

I step out of the van, moving to intercept her before she can see Max's condition without warning. "We got him.” I wrap my arms around her trembling body.

“Did she hurt him?” Her voice is frantic.

“That bitch—” I swallow a curse, not wanting to upset her further. “She didn’t beat him. He needs food and water, but he’s otherwise unharmed.”

Sophie nods against my chest, her fingers digging into my arms. "Let me see him. Please."

I guide her to the side of the van where Ghost is lifting Max out to set him gently on the ground. The moment Sophie sees the dog, a sound breaks from her throat—half sob, half cry of joy. Max's reaction is instant and transformative. His ears perkup, his tail begins to wag weakly, and a high whine escapes him as he struggles to move faster toward her.

Sophie drops to her knees on the gravel, arms outstretched. "Max! Oh, Max. That’s my good boy!” Tears stream unchecked down her face as the German Shepherd limps quickly to her, his whole body trembling with emotion.

I watch as Sophie buries her face in Max's neck, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The dog licks her cheeks, her forehead, her hands—anywhere he can reach—his tail now wagging furiously despite his weakened state.

Angel appears at my side, her eyes soft as she watches the reunion. "You did good," she says quietly.

I nod, unable to speak past the unexpected tightness in my throat. I've never been one for sentimentality, but seeing Sophie with Max hits me in places I thought were long dead.

“C’mon princess," I finally manage, my voice rougher than usual. “Let’s get him food and fresh water.”

Sophie looks up at me, her face streaked with tears but radiant with joy. "Thank you," she whispers, the words heavy with meaning. "Thank you for bringing him to me."

We get Max settled in our room on a bed of thick blankets. Sophie sits beside him on the floor, while I bring water and some leftover meat from dinner then watch as she carefully helps Max eat small bites.

I crouch down beside her, reaching out to stroke Max's head. The dog allows it, even pressing into my touch.

"No one's going to hurt you again.” The promise applies to both Max and Sophie—a vow I intend to keep by any and all means.

Chapter 12

Sophie

Warm, wet pleasure pulls me from sleep, my body responding with delicious tingles and sparks before my mind fully awakens. I arch my back, a soft gasp escaping my lips as I register what's happening—Blade's head is between my thighs, his mouth and tongue working magic that sends electric currents racing through my limbs.

The early morning light filters through the blinds, casting golden stripes across his broad shoulders. His hands grip my thighs firmly, keeping me open to him as he explores every sensitive fold with exquisite precision. Each stroke of his tongue draws me further from sleep and deeper into a haze of pleasure I'm still learning to navigate.

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