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“We leave Friday afternoon,” he says before walking toward his suite.
For a moment, I stare at his back, then I shut the door behind me. Before I can get stuck in my head, wondering if Nikolai loves me, my eyes lock on the bedroom.
God, I’m so tired. I wish the nightmares would stop so I can get a decent night’s sleep.
Chapter 25
Nikolai
With only five days left until I leave St. Monarch’s, I’m trying to help Uncle Carson as much as possible.
I’ve also set up a training schedule for Inna to make things easier when she starts as the new instructor.
I’m so fucking relieved Abigail is coming with me. Even if it’s just for a week.
I’m actually considering keeping her hostage on the island, but I know I’ll never be able to force her into doing something she doesn’t want.
At least I get more time with her.
It’s another small victory.
It’s been a long day, and I’m enjoying a tumbler of whiskey in the dining hall before I head to bed. I down the last of the amber fluid, and getting up, I walk toward the doorway.
Just then, I see Abigail rushing past, and I start to jog. It’s late, and I assumed she was sleeping.
Up ahead in the hallway, I see her opening a side door and stepping outside.
Christ.
She shouldn’t be outside this time of night. St. Monarch’s might have a no-kill rule, but everything else is fair game.
When I finally catch up to her and grab hold of her arm, she swings around with a shriek. Her eyes are wide and filled with terror.
“It’s me.” I lift a hand to her cheek. “It’s Nikolai.”
Our eyes lock, and seeing the duress she’s under breaks my fucking heart.
With every passing day, I grow surer that Abigail was raped during the ambush.
God help me. I don’t know what I’ll do if that’s true.
We stare at each other for a couple of intense seconds while my mind runs away with me, conjuring up horrors.
Suddenly a sob bursts from Abigail, and she slams into my chest.
I wrap my arms around the woman who’s become the love of my life over the past weeks, my heart weeping because she’s in such unspeakable pain.
I move my arms beneath her back and knees and lift her bridal style to my chest. Abbie’s arms circle my neck, and clinging to me, her body shudders with silent cries.
“I’ve got you,moya lyubov',” I murmur as I carry her back into the castle. I take her to my suite, and once the door shuts behind us, I sit down on a sofa, cradling her like the treasure she is.
“I’m here for you, baby. Let it all out.”
Abigail cries until dry sobs wrack her body. With time they ease up. She doesn’t move a muscle but rests against my chest, clearly drained of all her strength.
I press a kiss to her hair, my arms still steel bands around her.
Minutes pass before she whispers, “Please don’t ask me any questions.”
