Inhaling sharply, she shifted over toward a storage shelf, and I had to admit it was a clever move. She was trying to angle herself toward the door subtly, using the shelves as cover.
It wouldn’t work but it was still cute that she hoped it would.
Even if she were to get out of this room—highly unlikely—my men were still standing right outside the shop. But there wassomething thrilling about watching her try. About watching that clever mind work, calculating odds she had to know were shit.
"Please." The word was soft, pleading. "You won't gain anything from hurting me."
She begged so prettily.
My little nightingale tried to take another step to the side, moving slowly, carefully, hoping I wouldn’t notice.
I whipped my arms up, grabbing the edges of the storage shelf on either side of her and caging her in with my body.
The metal was cold under my palms, but she was warm—so warm it permeated the scant inches separating us.
She shrank down, flinching away from me, but there was nowhere to go. Her back pressed against the shelf, making the whole structure rattle.
Her chest brushed mine with each breath—just the barest contact, but enough to spike my pulse.
A single tear slipped free, cutting a track down her cheek as she kept begging me not to hurt her.
And despite myself, despite everything, I wondered what she would sound like when she begged for other things.
What would my name sound like on her sweet lips?
Would she gasp it? Moan it? Scream it?
Stop.
Without thinking, acting on an instinct I didn't recognize and sure as hell didn't like, I leaned in and ran the tip of my tongue along her cheek, lapping up the tear that spilled from her gray eyes.
Salt. Fear. Something sweeter underneath.Her.
She stopped breathing, her entire body rigid against me, perfectly still except for her heart pounding where her chest pressed to mine.
"I'm sorry,maya soloveyka." My voice came out rougher than I intended, almost a growl. "Not hurting you is not an option."
She opened her mouth to scream—clearly her intention when her lungs expanded, her throat worked— and I couldn't bear for such an ugly sound to come from those lips, not after listening to her sing. Not after tasting her skin.
Before the sound could claw its way out of her delicate throat, I pinched her neck, cutting off blood flow to her brain.
She collapsed, unconscious, against my chest, all that fight draining out of her in an instant.
I caught her, one arm around her waist, the other cradling her head as it lolled back. Her body was soft and pliant now, fitting closely against mine. My jaw clenched.
For a moment—just one moment—I let myself hold her. Appreciate the weight of her, the warmth.
Then I adjusted my grip and carried her toward the door.
This was business. Nothing more.
I'd remember that eventually.
CHAPTER 5
ANNA
Ijolted awake and for just a moment—a breath, a heartbeat—it was all a dream.
