ronanvvludolf:
She wasn’t answering. The fear was beginning to creep in, a real and tangible thing as his hands began to shake from where he gripped his phone too hard. Much tigheter, and he was almost certain he’d crack the glass across the front of the screen. But whenever he closed his eyes, all he could see was bodies, strewn across the floor; blood-soaked carpet and splatter across the walls. Mouths gaping open in horror, eyes glassy and vacant of the vivacity of life. The memories of his family haunted him still, ghosts that whispered horrible things in his memories. You could have done better; why are we dead and yet you live? Why have you wasted your life, Ronan, on anger and vengeance? Poor dear; nearly forty and he still can’t protect his family…
He blinked the haze of guilt and fear from his gaze, his mind spinning as Emmaline’s phone clicked to voicemail once more. His throat was dry, his heart hammering in his throat. But on the outside, he remained stoic, if not a little on-edge. He refused to believe anything had happened to his mate; it wasn’t possible. It was an improbable probability, and he would uproot New York from its very foundation before he allowed the sole source of joy n his life to evaporate like mist on the wind. Still, the threat of what might happen to her in his absence swam in his head, like a hive of angry bees, and he was in the middle of shutting off his phone and placing it back into his pocket when a small body barreled into him. Blinking, Ronan turned just in time to see a soft figure, clad in blue and a ribbon of sorts done up in her tight brown curls, collide against the hard planes of his body. He staggered a foot as he caught the warmth and familiarity of Emmaline in his arms, her small baby bump pressing against his own abdomen.
Thank God. Thank God thank God thank God.
She was apologizing to him, but Ronan could do little more than just try to calm his racing heart. A thousand terrible images had filtered through his mind, each more horrifying than the last, so the knowledge that she was here–that she was okay–was almost more than he could possibly bear.
“Myshka, myshka,” he breathed shakily into her hair, kissing the top of her head and rubbing her back soothingly as she rambled her apologies. She was prattling on about how ‘the girls’ had stated that it would be alright for them to sneak out, and a very new, very different sort of fear pierced his heart. He pulled her face away from his chest gently, cradling her tear-stained face in his palms and lowering his voice. If he spoke to her like they were the only two people in the room; in the city; on the entire globe, he was certain she would calm down. His thumb brushed tenderly over the arch of her cheekbone as he bent down and kissed her forehead. “It’s alright, little Russian doll, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise. But tell me–who did you come here with? Tanechka? Anya? We need to find them–we need to find Viktor–before someone else does.” He released his hold on her cheeks in favor of sliding a hand down to brush, almost reverently, against her baby bump.
“When I asked you to remain behind at the compound, it wasn’t because I didn’t want to be here with you–it’s because it is dangerous for you to be here, Emmaline; you and the baby,” he explained, his voice soft but firm. “I would have stayed home with you if I could have–I spent…every moment in your absence worrying over you. If it was not for my duty to the family, I would have left an hour ago. Two hours ago. Пойдем со мной, маленький медведь. Come with me, little bear, before you hibernate in my suit jacket for the rest of the night.” He took her hands in his, glancing around the ballroom for any sign of Tatiana or Anya. Just what in the world did the girls think they were doing by sneaking out? Tatiana was likely in danger of Irish occupation again; the sooner they could find everyone and round them up, the sooner the Pakhan could deal with them.
“Do you know where the other girls could have gone?” he asked Emmaline, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice. “We need to find them before–we just need to find them. Point me in the right direction, myshka, and I’ll get all three of you out of here.”
This had been a terrible mistake - Emmaline should have known better than to have ever left the Russian compounds against her popochka’s incredibly strict orders, and already she was trying to think of the numerous ways that she could somehow manage to make it up to him. He had done so much to keep her safe - had all but sacrificed his entire life for her well-being - and this was how she had supposedly repaid him? By sneaking out to attend a party she had no business even knowing about in the first place? All she had wanted was to make sure that he was okay, to check in on Ronan and ensure that he was safe, but clearly that had been a ridiculously foolish decision for her to make. Her lover - the father of her unborn child - was a man capable of commanding entire armies if he had to, and he would have been far less stressed and ill at ease if she had just stayed home like he had so kindly requested of her.
They were together now, though, and there was no changing the past. He caught her instantly in the warm and reassuring strength of his big arms the moment she came rushing towards him; as if she weighed nothing at all, he brought her securely up against the broad expanse of his chest, and Emmaline could do little more than cry with relief as she clutched onto him. He kissed into her glossy dark curls, murmuring bits of soothing nonsense as if she hadn’t just directly disobeyed his orders, and the young girl whimpered helplessly in response, looking up at him with her teary-eyed and apologetic little gaze. He held her small, heart-shaped face between both of his big hands that were only ever gentle with her, and she sniffled as he pressed a reassuring kiss to her brow before reaching down to stroke her baby bump, as if to tell himself that it was still there. “T - Tatia and Anya, yes. Tatia said she had to find someone real bad, and Anya had never been to a party before, and - and we thought we’d be safe with all three of us together, but first Tatia disappeared, and then Anya, and then - and then - “ Emmaline broke off on another broken little sob, ducking her head and bringing her tiny hands up to her face to crook her index fingers beneath her tear-filled eyes. she cried just like a child would, all snuffling, hiccuping sounds and quivering shoulderblades.
Slowly, Ronan moved them away from the corner they had isolated themselves into, and Emmaline was incredibly grateful as he gave her one of his hands to cling to in the process. He was promising her that everything was okay - calling her his little bear - and Emmaline remained close to his side as he began to lead them back into the crowded ballroom. More than a little afraid of all of the unfamiliar sights, people, and smells, she cowered tentatively alongside her popochka, catching the pouty swell of her bottom lip between her teeth as she hesitantly raised her wide-eyed and anxious gaze to look throughout the dancefloor for any sign of her friends. “Tatiana said that she really wanted to, erm - really wanted to visit the petting zoo, so maybe she’s there?” she piped up hopefully, as desperate for Ronan’s approval as she always was, and she had to squeeze a little tighter up against his side, one hand protectively holding onto her tiny baby bump as a stranger nearly knocked her over. “And Anya, maybe - maybe she was wanting to find somethin’ to eat?”
