facing a crazed, pain-driven animal looking to kill everyone in its sight.
“Look only at me, Antosha. Your daughter needs to be kept safe at all times. You don’t want to be the one to kill her. Have you seen her arms? Your leopard attacked her.”
“Stop,” Ania hissed. “He feels bad enough. He can’t help what is happening.”
Mitya heard the unshed tears in her voice, and he wanted to gather her close and hold her to him. How long had she been alone in this fight? He knew from experience that when a man was dying from a brain injury, especially if that injury had occurred violently, the cat was injured as well, and became even more deadly. Her father would have killed her eventually.
“Kotyonok, stay quiet and let me handle this.” He kept his voice low, but there was no way to keep the command from his voice. He’d been giving orders since he was a child. He was the son of the most vicious vor in their homeland. Every other lair knew of Lazar and his son, Mitya. He wanted to be gentle with her, but this wasn’t the time.
He shrugged out of his jacket and handed it back to Sevastyan. At the same time, he slid the shiny loafers from his feet. He was always ready for his leopard to emerge. He could shift in seconds, his cat already fighting as the animal emerged. He was a vicious fighter, and he would annihilate a cat that had no experience, as Antosha’s leopard clearly wouldn’t have.
“Please don’t,” Ania said. “Let me try.”
He didn’t want to kill her father. If he did, she would never forgive him. He knew that. He also knew it was going to be necessary. Maybe not this time, but soon.
“Antosha. I know you’re there somewhere. Fight him. Don’t let your life end with your leopard trying to kill your daughter. You know you don’t want that as your legacy to her.”
He heard a small sob escape her and then her hand swept down his back. Barely there. Barely felt. But she conveyed so much with that touch. She knew he was trying to save her life. She knew he didn’t want to kill her father. She also knew it was going to happen.
“Dad, please.” She choked on the plea. “You can do this. You’re strong.”
“Antosha, do I need to have my cousin take your daughter from this room, or do we talk, man to man? I had hoped to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage. I wanted you to give me advice on how best to give her a home. I want to hear the things you have to say to the man who will spend a lifetime with your little girl.”
Mitya tried to appeal to the man fighting his leopard. Say the things that might call to a father. He had used his name repeatedly, knowing Antosha had fought hard to keep his leopard from killing his daughter. Clearly Ania was loved by this man. Mitya knew what it was like fighting back a crazed leopard and he didn’t have a bullet in his head that was slowly killing him.
For a moment the cat stared at him. Mitya allowed his cat to stare back. Then the man was there. For the first time, Mitya looked into Antosha’s eyes. Ania had those nearly purple eyes. The color was indigo, so dark blue the shade slipped into a dark, gorgeous purple. He looked ravaged by his ordeal, but Mitya could still see traces of what he would have looked like, a handsome man with feminine eyes. Gorgeous eyes.
Ania must have been able to see her father because her hand slid up Mitya’s back, beneath his shirt, skin to skin, and he felt her tremble.
“You’re a strong man, Antosha. A man to be admired. You have an equally strong daughter. You must be proud of her. Of her accomplishments. Speak with me. Tell me the things you would say to your daughter’s man. I need to hear these things.”
Antosha renewed his efforts to fight off his leopard. The cat held out, but only for a short time. It was used to following the will of the man. The cat subsided, and the contortions receded. Antosha fell back against his pillows and threw one arm over his eyes, his body shaking. Exhausted.
Mitya stepped back to allow Ania the freedom to get to her father. She flung herself on the bed with him, her arm going around him,