WHEN HE DESIRES

WAREHOUSE II

KILLIAN POV

She finally sleeps.

Not deeply.

Her breath stutters every few minutes, and her fingers twitch toward her stomach — it seems to be a subconscious reaction. Perhaps from the pain she suffered, her mind hasn’t let go of yet.

But she sleeps.

The warehouse feels different with her unconscious in it.

Not quieter. Just… different.

Like the air shifted.

Like the shadows rearranged themselves around her.

I stand over her for longer than I should.

Not touching her.

Not even close enough for my shadow to fall over her.

But watching her.

She’s strong. I'll give her that—despite being broken.

She's a fighter, and she has been fighting for herself long before anyone fought for her.

That monster of a fiancé must have really done a lot to break her but she's still standing. It monsters like him that sees softness and thinks it theirs to break.

He doesn’t understand that softness is a weapon as well.

She shifts in her sleep, a soft whimper escaping before she swallows it down.

My hands curl into fists.

Dimitri Romanov did this.

He carved that fear into her bones.

He taught her to silence her own pain.

I’ll undo it.

Slowly.

Thoroughly.

And Romanov would pay for every breath she lost because of him.

I step back from the cot, watching the rise and fall of her breath beneath my coat.

She looks even smaller wrapped in it.

Even more breakable.

But she isn’t breakable.

Not truly.

She's a survivor, and she’s mine to protect now, whether she understands it or not.

Her eyelids fluttered, her brows pinched with worry as she tried to shake off whatever nightmare she's having.

She whispers something in her sleep too soft to hear.

I lean down slightly, not touching, just close enough to catch the breath of her words.

“…no, don't…”

Something twists in my chest.

Unwelcome.

Unfamiliar.

Dangerous.

Romanov. I'll surly see to it that he pays dearly for this.

My phone buzzes once in my pocket.

Luca.

I step away from the cot as far as I can to avoid disturbing her.

“Report.”

“We misled the trackers,” Luca says. “They bought it. Romanov’s men think she ran north toward the border.”

“Good.”

“We also intercepted a call from Dimitri. He’s furious.”

I smirk darkly. “Let him be.”

“You want us to handle his men?”

“For now, just keep them away from the safe house.

“Understood.”

I hang up.

The plan is simple:

Take her to my city.

Keep her out of Romanov’s reach.

Pay my debt.

But a small, inconvenient part of me has already stopped pretending this is about debts and strategy.

It’s about her.

It’s about the way she looks at me, like she doesn’t know whether to run or stay.

It’s about the way she held her breath when I told her she was under my protection— not out of fear, but because she felt the shift too.

It’s about the way something inside me snarls when I imagine her with anyone else.

Not jealousy.

But something darker. Something I'm not willing to admit to myself yet.

A scream ripped through the warehouse, pulling me out of my thoughts. My feet moved on their own before I could process what I was doing.

November.

She’s still asleep, but her arms are flailing like she’s fighting someone off.

No!" She screamed the word at no one in particular, only at the monster hurting her in her dream.

I’m at her side in an instant, hands gripping her wrists to keep her from hurting me or herself any further.

She thrashes against me, fighting my grip with so much force I worry she might actually bruise her delicate wrist if this continues. She managed to slip a hand free from my loose grip, striking me across the face before trying to claw my eye out.

Damn she's strong.

Fuck this.

“November!” I bark. “Wake up.”

She does. Her eyes flew open, meeting mine, and her face turned pale when she did. She looked at me like she was staring at a monster and that hurt me more than anything else. She should be scared of me. I am a reminder of the monster who had hurt her. Maybe seeing me does nothing to ease her fear.

"November," I said again, and she stopped resisting. She closed her eyes before taking a huge shuddering breath and when she opened her eyes she looked at me like she really looked at me and I could see the tears, the fear and uncertainty swimming in her eyes.

Killian? She asked, letting out a damn whimper that made something within me shift.

I pulled her to my chest, arms wrapped tight around her. She sniffled into my chest leaning into me for just a brief moment before pulling away.

You're safe now." Her gaze meets mine before glancing away quickly like she's embarrassed.

Am I? She asked as she swiped at her cheeks. Safe that is?"

"Of course, my men have managed to draw away Dimitri's men like I said. He won't be finding you any time soon.

She arches a brow at me, giving me a pointed look.

She isn't talking about Dimitri, she's talking about me.

"Come to think of it." she continues. I didn't quite catch your last name." You know mine, it's common courtesy I know yours.

"That's because I never mentioned it." I growl out. She still gave me the same pointed look silently commanding me.

Killian. Killian Russ.

She inhaled sharply shifting away from me as far as the cot could allow her glancing around for a means of escape.

There isn't.

Feeling cornered, she turned to glare at me. She's angry but also scared as well. I can see her fear in the way her body trembles.

I don't blame her for being scared. The Romanov and the Russ have been known to have a bloodied histories. Two rival empires. She must think she is here as some hostage as a tool to use against Dimitri.

"So I'm your prisoner now, Russ?" She spit out my name like it's a curse.

Fucking....

You're not. I tell her, but she just huffed out a breath, giving me a disbelieving look.

"Listen to me, November." I say, keeping my voice as calm and soothing as I possibly can. "If we had met under different circumstances, a part where I didn't meet your father, a part where I don't owe him a debt, then yes, you would have been my prisoner."

She looks at me now not with suspicion but more like she's contemplating what I just said.

"I'm not asking you to trust me neither I'm asking you not to fear me. You have everything right to be. But we both know that you need my help to escape Dimitri. I say letting her feel the weight of my word.

Her breath hitched.

It was the truth, and it hit her harder than anything else I said.

"You're wrong, you know."

I arch a brow at her. "About?"

"Being your prisoner. If my dad hadn't saved you you would have been dead and we won't be having this conversation." She shrugged, giving me a pointed look.

The corner of my lip lifts. "True."

“So what? Are you mad that he saved me?”

She shakes her head. " No. I just hope you were worth saving and that you don't make him regret saving you."

Her reply caught me off guard. "I won't. I tell her."

She nods her head before turning away from me.

"I'll probably try and get some sleep again. She said, forcing out a yawn but we both know that she won't be getting any sleep tonight. She slid back into the cot but not before handing me my coat. "Here you'll need this."

"Keep it. You need it more." She opened her mouth to argue, but I was already stepping away from her.

I glance at my watch. It's past midnight.

“Four more hours,” I murmur to myself. “Then we go home.”