Page 30 of Dragon Bodyguard
Suddenly she thought she felt a gun pressed to the back of her head, letting out a soft yelp as she got to her feet, spinning around to face the empty space behind her.
She was shaking again.
There were people after her. Had her father known? Had he received any kind of threats? Was that why she was there? Had he brought her with him to try and keep her safe, keep her out of the grasp of whoever was doing this? Dmitri’s home was famously a fortress. Especially after the breach. Was that why she’d been invited? But then, why hadn’t he told her to stay in the house?
She turned her eyes on the men around the table, all of them staring at her, taken aback at her outburst.
One of her hands was pressed hard over her heart.
Would she ever feel safe again?
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I think I should go lie down… I mean, I should retire… for the night.” She knew she was mumbling, but her head felt foggy and strange. Shock, slow-moving, returning like some bad dream. “Would you mind if I request that Misha sees me to my room?” she asked Dmitri, who shook his head with a reassuring smile.
She could have sworn Misha looked grateful, but also that he could tell she wasn’t faking it. He met her at Ilya’s end of the table, reaching out for her to help steady her and when she could grasp at his lower arms, she looked up at him.
With him close, she could finally recognize what she was really experiencing. It was shock, but more than that there was fear. A deep, resounding emotion that felt like tar. Cold and thick. Slithering around within. She’d never experienced fear like that. Fearing for her freedom.
The prospect of being forced into a mating bond was as grim as anything else. How would it even work? How could a forced bond be binding? The details were always so fuzzy, and her kin too bound by tradition. Once a bond was forged it could never be broken. But, surely, if one mate was coerced by another…
No. It would probably not make even a lick of a difference.
Even with her being shiftless.
Which seemed ridiculous.
And would she even be safe as part of the Volkov family? Wouldn’t they use her and discard her the way she heard they did most of those within their orbit? There seemed to be little loyalty between those dragons. A dysfunctional branch of an otherwise healthy tree of prominent families. Perhaps it was the bitterness of not rising to the rank of ruling head that had Stepan Volkov remain one of the more volatile of his ilk.
Cold sweat was appearing on her brow. She let Misha wrap an arm around her waist, supporting her out of the room.
“Don’t let them take me,” was all she could think to say, leaning her head against his chest. “Please.”
“Okay, let’s go sit down,” he said, gently guiding her through a doorway and into a room she recognized.
The library—with all its deep blue—had a calming effect. As though she believed that nothing bad could happen in such a secluded, quiet space. Who would even know she was there? Only Misha. And she could trust him to watch out for her, the way he’d stepped between her and those men… The thought made her shudder.
Those men. With their guns and their bullets. Blank-faced, their services bought and paid for. Coming for her.
Misha helped her into one of the armchairs, walking over to a chest of drawers and the decanter of alcohol it hosted. Whiskey, she deduced. She didn’t mind whisky.
“No gin?” she asked.
His cheek creased in a smile, but he didn’t look at her and he didn’t stop pouring the amber liquid into the glass he’d chosen.
No gin.
“You look a bit better,” he said, kneeling in front of her and handing her the glass. She took it, nodding.
“I feel a bit better.” In fact, she felt a bit silly for coming so close to a meltdown. “I don’t know what came over me,” she mumbled, glass to her lips
He watched her as she swallowed and lowered the glass to her lap.
“Some day, huh?” he asked.
She nodded.
Images appeared in her head again. Of the crash. His hands over his head that had made her duck down, too. His protectiveness that had placed itself like a shield around her. How she hadn’t understood what was happening until he had forced her to pay attention. How he’d steadied her as they made a dash through that forested area. How he’d made sure Mrs. Barley drew her a bath.
It all felt like an age ago.
