“I can walk,” I protest.
“There’s no way that’s happening today,” he mutters as he carries me out of the infirmary.
“Wait, I want to check on Abbie,” I say as I strain against his hold.
Instructor Nikolai carried her out of the infirmary, and I haven’t seen her since.
“Sit the fuck still,” Misha snaps.
My eyes dart to his face, and seeing his angry expression, my eyebrows fly up. “Why are you angry with me? It wasn’t my fault we got taken.”
He lets out a heavy breath as he turns the corner and stalks toward the staircase. “I’m not angry with you. I’m fucking pissed off at what they did to you.”
Oh.
Placing my hand against the side of his neck, I say, “But I’m okay now. It’s all over.”
He visibly forces himself to calm down, then he mutters, “Abbie’s fine. I’ll take you to her after you’ve gotten some rest.”
Misha carries me into his suite and straight to his bed, where he gently lays me down.
With a look of warning, he says, “You’ll only get up for toilet breaks. Understand?”
I pat the space beside me. “Only if you stay with me.”
“Of course, I’m staying with you,” he mutters.
I watch as he walks to his closet and changes into a pair of sweatpants.
My eyes latch onto the V that curves from his hips toward the waistband.
Yum.
I think if I pop a couple of painkillers, I’ll be fine enough for sex.
Misha grabs a shirt from the shelf, and as he walks back to the bed, his eyes lock on my face. A second later, he shakes his head. “Get your mind off sex,krasivaya. You’re in no shape for it.”
I let out a chuckle. “Yeah, but a girl can dream.”
Misha starts to undress me, tossing my clothes into the corner of the room. After he’s changed me into his t-shirt, he lies down beside me and pulls me into his arms.
Letting out a deep breath, he murmurs, “Khristos, now my heart can rest.”
He presses kisses all over my face before he pulls back to ask, “How are you holding up?”
I just shrug because I don’t have an answer for his question.
Back in the container, there was a moment when I really believed I would die. The empty feeling washing over me was indescribable.
It’s insane. I’m both relieved and traumatized.
I keep telling myself it’s over.
When Misha raises an eyebrow at me, I say, “I’ll be okay. I’m just a little shaken up.”
“Talk to me.” He brings a hand to my face, brushing his fingers over my cheek.
I shrug again before I snuggle into his chest. “I just hated feeling so helpless.”