The Princess's Guard ✔️

10

Word Count: 1765

~Kiva

Glass shatters nearby, jolting me awake.

It takes a long moment for me to fight my way out of the feeling that this is merely a nightmare, or a vicious flashback of the break in.

And then it dawns on me, as I sit in my bed, that the nearing commotion is real.

I'm in danger, and yet only one thing shrouds my mind.

My mate. He's here.

Stumbling from bed, I make my way to the door, pounding on it. Last time, Andri was dead outside.

What if the same fate has befallen Ark?

"Ark? Are you out there?" I call out. My fingers tremble against the doorframe, hearing frantic movement from downstairs, drawing close again.

Gritting my teeth, I tug at the door handle. It doesn't budge.

"Ark? Why am I locked in?" I ask frantically, wiggling the handle so vigorously I may break it.

No response.

From downstairs, I can hear the thud of someone being pushed up against a wall, or perhaps that's a dead body falling to the floor.

This is bad. Really bad.

Backing away, I opt for hiding in my closet. What other choice do I have? Ark has locked me in, assuming he's keeping me safe, but it feels as though I'm just sitting, waiting for someone to come in and finish me off.

Please, please don't find me.

For a painful few moments, I just sit amongst my coats, listening intently. From downstairs, the chaos seems to be quietening.

Are they leaving?

All of a sudden, from the small gap in my closet doors, I see my door swing open. It took no force, as if it had been unlocked, which gives me hope it's Ark, but that's promptly shut down.

The figure is dressed all in black, a hood pulled over their head.

This is my mate. I know it.

I go still, hugging my knees. My heart is beating so loud I fear he can hear it, as he stalks through my room, footsteps near silent.

He's experienced at this, clearly.

With a held breath, I watch him. He's looking for me, gaze scanning the empty room. I stare at his gloved hands, wondering if he plans to wrap them around my neck to finally kill me.

He needs to leave, and not just because he could kill me...

But because I can feel the pull of the mate bond. Part of me wants to confront him, to learn his identity and motivations.

With one final sweeping look around the room, he seems satisfied I'm not here, moving toward the door.

His fingers barely brush the door handle before he pauses, and very slowly, his head turns toward me.

My heart nearly fails me.

One moment he's at my bedroom door, and the next he's in front of the closet, throwing the door open.

I yelp, pressing my back into the wall, looking up at the imposing figure.

He stares down at me, seconds ticking by slowly. He appears to be contemplating what to do with me, now that I'm trapped at his feet.

Tauntingly, his head slowly tilts to the side.

"No...No, please!" I scream out as he reaches down, grabbing my arms before yanking me up into standing position.