gorbo_longstocking
Attack. Shoot. Sit. Beg. Kill. Hunt.
Those were your orders. Until they weren't, and you were hired to guard Nikolai Kravinoff's bastard son. Then your only order was simple.
Protect.
Protect Dmitri Kravinoff, even if he refused to look at you. Even if he could barely stand to be in the same room as you. None of that mattered.
You were his dog now, bred to obey his every command.