The Bodyguard's Claim {manxman}

TBC: Chapter Twenty Eight

Dr. Nicca James Alfarone

I snuggled deep into the familiar warmth, my eyebrows furrowing in the throes of sleep when I realized that the warmth was actually the imprint left on the bed and not the actual person. "Mikhail?" I murmured, my eyes cracking open as I winced, the sunlight hurting my pupils. "Where are you?" I raised an eyebrow as my eyes settled upon his huddled stature at the edge of the bed, his chin in his hands as he appeared to be thinking. "What's wrong?" I took in the look of fear on his face as he stared at nothing. He didn't answer me. "Mikhail?" I sat up.

"У моей пачки негде жить."

Since it was still the wee hours of morning, my brain wasn't cooperating with me, hence the reason why I couldn't translate what he was saying. I could feel his worry and his fear running through our bond and I couldn't figure out why. What he was so scared about?

"Um, run that by me again, baby." I murmured, running a hand through my tousled hair. I was sated and I was content. I was thoroughly fucked and my body was met with all of its needs. God bless Mikhail Baranov. I love that man with every piece of me. Suddenly, Mikhail stomped up, his biceps flexed as his jaw was clenched, his hands following suit. He turned around to face me, pupils stark black as his canines were bared. I could feel rage running through his mind, but it wasn't directed at me. More to himself?

"My pack doesn't have a fucking home to go to!" He raged. "This place is only temporary! What kind of Alpha am I if I haven't even thought about those kind of things? Бог чертовски чертовски это!" He yelled and I couldn't stop myself from smirking like an idiot. "What are you so worried about?" I chuckled, standing up. "The hell do you mean, Nicca?!" He whirled around on me, his eyes facing mine. "This is everything to worry about! I'm about to become an Alpha of one of the biggest packs in Russia and I не сделали дерьма, чтобы помочь им!" He ran a hand over his face and I kept smirking like this was a comedy show. I didn't understand a word he was saying but I could tell they were curse words and nothing made me grin even harder. He was so cute, so so cute.

"Mate, why the hell are you smiling at me? I'm being serious." He let out a loud sigh and I rolled my eyes. "We are mates, right Misha?" I waved a hand at him and he scoffed, annoyed. "Yes. Your mark bears my name." He shrugged and I stared at him like he was an idiot. My mark indeed did say 'MNB', which stood for Mikhail's initials. "Well then." I muttered. "Since I am your lovely mate and I know about all of your problems before you even know about them," I began, ignoring the look of confusion he shot me. "Since I knew this place was only for a little while," I walked over to him slowly. "I took it up on myself to find you a better place to live." I finished, leaving out the important parts.

"Какие?" Mikhail stared at me wide eyed, like I was the knight in shining armour who had just come to save him, the damsel in distress. Oh, how the roles have reversed. "What are you talking about, Nicca? Are you lying to me?" He narrowed his eyes and I sighed, exasperated. "Mikhail, my family has an empty mansion not too far from my parent's house. They actually gave it to me when I turned twenty one to start my family in but as you can see, I'm old now." I joked. "You aren't that old Nicca." I shrugged. "You have no choice but to say that. You're mated to me." I muttered, slightly insecurity over the huge age gap settling in. I was six years older then Mikhail and I saw it everyday I talked to him.

I had already had my life together while he was still starting out. He was much mature than me in the majority of the aspects. While I was older, I still had the mindset of a prepubescent child. I was still immature and he spoke well with manners and etiquette, like he was raised by eighty year old diplomats. We were so close yet so far apart and I noticed it every single day.