His lips brush my ear again. Bile rises in my throat.
“Course, babe. Coming right up.”
I swallow hard, preparing my melting muscles for action.
Focus, Cass.
The second his attention shifts to the bartender, I shove my empty glass across the counter. It crashes to the floor, crystal exploding and scattering in glittering pieces.
Using the distraction, I kick off my chair and stumble toward the room’s center. A hand contacts my waist, but I lurch sideways, avoiding the grasping obstacle.
My head spins freely, the world becoming a darkening kaleidoscope of movement. But somehow, my body knows exactly which direction to go.
Forward.
Toward the darkness in the corner booth.
Toward the only safe haven I can think of.
Toward Mikhail.
My breaths come in fast pants now, each one barely reaching my lungs. Only the terror pumping through my blood keeps me moving as I curve around stools and collide with strangers, driven by the knowledge of what it would mean to lose this fight.
I’m fading fast when I finally see him, casually relaxed in his corner seat—until his head turns, his eyes meet my panicked ones.
Tears I can barely feel slip down my cheeks.
I try to say his name, but numbness takes over.
Mikhail becomes a liquid haze of violence and movement, rising from the booth in a beautiful blur of darkness. Warmth spreads through my chest at the sight.
I’m safe.
I can breathe.
I—
My wrist is snagged from behind, pulling me away from safety. A helpless whine escapes my throat. Pain shoots through my wrist as I yank once, twice.
The grip loosens just as I crash into a warm embrace.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” His voice is a comforting rumble against my hair.
Not the revolting pitch of my attacker, but something that resonates deep within me.
I try to lift my head, but darkness edges my vision, my balance failing.
“He…drugged me,” I whisper between gasps.
His grip tightens around me like armor. I burrow deeper into his chest, craving the familiarity of his warm cologne.
My next breath lasts an eternity as I inhale his scent and finally let the colors bleed from my sight.
Mikhail
She’s actually here.
In my club.
