Page 140 of My Dark Horse Prince

The pain’s like a lightning strike, which I suppose is fitting.

“In a moment that pain will recede,” he says. “Or at least, it’ll go down a little bit. I imagine that like us, pain is an old friend to you.”

He extends his hand.

Mikhail places the phone in it.

He crouches down this time, his ice-blue eyes impassive, unconcerned. “Your boyfriend has the ability to heal anything that just happened. That means you have thirty minutes to get your friend here, or you’re going to be in a wheelchair for life.”

His finger hovers over the call keys.

“Tell me her number, and Grigoriy can fix your leg. The pain will go away.”

But they’re right.

I’m no stranger to pain.

In fact, more than anyone else, I’m uniquely suited to ignore it. Pain has been my most constant companion for more than a decade. If they think I’m going to trade my pain for my friend’s, they don’t know me at all.

My body’s a weak meat-sack, but my will is strong.

“Go to hell. I’m sure they have a room reserved for you.”

“If she’s not motivated enough yet,” Mikhail says, “we can motivate her more.”

Motivate.

So they plan to torture me?

I’m not afraid. Eventually, after enough ‘motivation’ hasn’t worked, they’ll kill me. It’ll all be over, but my friends will have no idea what’s going on. They need to be warned, and Grigoriy deserves to know what happened to me.

“I’ll call her,” I say.

Only, the numbers I rattle off aren’t Kristiana’s.

Boris’s index finger hovers over the talk button. “Nothing funny, hear me? You tell her that we have you. You tell her where to come, and you tell her she has to come alone.”

I nod.

“Do you think she’ll do it?”

I breathe through a wave of nausea. The worst injuries always cause your entire body to turn on you. “She’s my oldest friend,” I say. “I’d come for her.”

Boris laughs. “And yet you’re calling her right now.”

“I didn’t say I’d tell her to come. You just told me to call her.”

He rolls his eyes and hits talk.

“Hello?”

“Kristiana,” I say as clearly as I can. “It’s me, Mirdza.” I hold my breath, desperately hoping that she doesn’t say anything stupid.

“Thank goodness you’re calling,” my sister says.

“The men you were worried about have taken me after all, just like Aleksandr thought they might,” I say. “But you’re the one they want, Kris. Not me.” I wait for her to process that, and silently pray that she gets why I’m calling her.

“Okay.”

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