EIRA'S POV
.What was I thinking?
The question wouldn't stop echoing in my head.
He had helped me.
He had warned me.
He had protected me.
And I had done nothing but doubt him, argue with him, fight him every step of the way.
The guilt sat heavily in my chest as I stared out of the car window, watching the darkness blur past.
"I'm sorry..." I whispered.
The words felt small.
Pathetically small.
Because no apology could erase the way I'd looked at him back there.
No apology could erase the fact that he'd been right.
Again.
But Adrain didn't answer.
Not a single word.
Not even a glance.
His hands remained locked around the steering wheel, knuckles white, jaw tight enough to shatter stone.
The silence between us wasn't empty.
It was alive.
Heavy.
Burning.
As if a thousand unspoken words were trapped inside the car, suffocating us both.
I lowered my gaze.
For some reason...
His silence hurt far more than his anger ever could.
Eventually, the car slowed.
Then stopped.
I stepped outside and instantly forgot how to breathe.
My eyes widened.
No.
This wasn't a mansion.
This wasn't a house.
This was a palace.
Moonlight spilled across towering pillars carved from white stone. Massive glass windows glittered like diamonds. Elegant balconies stretched across the upper floors, while fountains shimmered beneath golden lights.
The entire place looked like something ripped from a fairy tale.
Or a kingdom.
My mouth slowly fell open.
"W-Whose palace is this?" I whispered.
The words escaped before I could stop them.
Adrain didn't even look impressed.
As if this place was normal.
As if people casually lived in castles.
"We're entering from the back."
His voice dragged me back to reality.
I hurried after him.
The moment we stepped inside, my eyes nearly popped out of my skull.
Everything sparkled.
Crystal chandeliers.
Marble floors.
Paintings that probably cost more than my entire existence.
I turned my head left.
Then right.
Then left again.
Trying to absorb everything.
And that's exactly why disaster struck.
My elbow brushed against an enormous antique vase.
The thing wobbled.
Tilted.
And began falling.
My soul left my body.
Oh God.
Oh no.
No no no no—
I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my ears.
Waiting for the crash.
Waiting for my funeral.
Waiting for Adrain to throw me out of the palace.
But...
Nothing happened.
Confused, I slowly opened one eye.
Then both.
The vase wasn't on the floor.
It was in Adrain's hand.
He stood beside me.
Holding it effortlessly.
His expression looked one second away from murder.
I stared.
Then stared some more.
How?
It should've shattered.
How did he even get there so fast?
A nervous smile appeared on my lips.
"Th-thank you..."
His gaze narrowed.
As if he was debating whether saving the vase had been a mistake.
Then he simply placed it back and continued walking.
I practically ran after him.
We finally entered his room.
And surprisingly...
It was nothing like the rest of the palace.
No luxury.
No extravagance.
No chaos.
Just clean lines.
Dark furniture.
A large bed.
A couch.
A desk.
Everything neat.
Controlled.
Disciplined.
Just like him.
"Don't touch anything."
His warning made me blink.
"I wasn't planning to," I muttered.
He disappeared into the bathroom.
Minutes later he emerged wearing black night clothes.
His hair was damp.
Tiny droplets slid down the side of his neck.
And for one horrifying second...
My brain stopped functioning.
Nope.
Absolutely not.
Not happening.
I immediately looked away.
"Sleep on the bed."
His voice interrupted my thoughts.
I blinked.
"What?"
"The bed."
"No. It's your room."
"The bed."
"I'll take the couch."
His eyes lifted.
And suddenly I remembered survival instincts.
"Okay."
I climbed into bed.
He took the couch.
And eventually exhaustion dragged me under.
Hours later...
I woke with a dry throat.
Water.
I needed water.
The jug beside the bed was empty.
Of course.
I glanced toward the couch.
Adrain was asleep.
For once...
He looked peaceful.
No anger.
No arrogance.
No walls.
My chest tightened strangely.
I immediately looked away.
Nope.
Not thinking about that either.
I quietly slipped from the room.
After getting completely lost inside the palace, I finally found the kitchen.
Drank some water.
And began searching for my way back.
Then it happened.
Something soft brushed against my leg.
I jumped, panicking, and in the process, hit a piece of art. It crashed to the floor with a loud thud.
My heart stopped. My blood turned cold.
Shit. Shit. Shit!
A door creaked open down the hall. My body froze, terror rooting me in place.
Suddenly, a hand clamped over my mouth, another around my waist. I gasped, struggling—
"Sshh… It's me," a low whisper brushed my ear. "Adrain."
Relief flooded me so fast my knees almost buckled.
He dragged me back into his room.
Once inside, he shut the door and turned on me, eyes blazing.
"What the hell were you doing outside?" he hissed.
"I–I just went to drink water," I stammered.
He grabbed my shoulders, his grip rough.
It hurt. His face was inches from mine, furious, dangerous.
"Do you have any idea how risky—"
But before he could finish, footsteps echoed toward the room.
His eyes widened. Then, without warning, he yanked me, pushing me onto his bed.
I barely had time to gasp before he lay down, pulling me into his arms, covering me with his blanket.
His chest pressed against my face, his arm locked around me, hiding me completely.
I froze. My entire body stiffened against him. My heart hammered against my ribs like it wanted to escape.
A knock came.
"Adrain? Are you alright?" A soft, feminine voice. His mother.
I wanted to cry. What if she found me here? What would she think of me?
"Yes," he answered calmly, his voice steady. "Why?"
"I thought I heard something."
"It must have been the cat. I'm tired, Mom. Can we talk tomorrow?"
A pause.
Then, "Alright. Good night."
"Good night."
The door shut.
I didn't move. I couldn't.
His arm was still around me, his heartbeat thudding in my ear.
I couldn't breathe properly, not with the heat crawling up my face.
Out of fear—out of something else—I hugged him tighter. And… he hugged me back.
When I dared to lift my head, he was already looking at me.
Why, Adrain?
Why do you protect me, yet push me away? Why do you act like you don't care when your actions scream that you do?
I can't understand you.
We stared at each other until he abruptly looked away, breaking the spell.
I jerked back, my face burning.
"I–I'll sleep on the couch," I muttered nervously, standing up.
"No. Sleep here. If Mom comes again, it'll cause more trouble." His hand shot out, holding my wrist. The warmth of his touch sent sparks up my arm.
When I looked at his hand, he let go quickly, lying down on the far side of the bed. I turned my back to him, clutching the blanket.
"Thank you," I whispered. "For helping me."
"I'm not helping you," his cold voice replied. "I just don't want Andy in trouble because of you."
The words sliced through me. Why did they hurt so much?
I turned away, biting my lip, and eventually, sleep pulled me under.
Morning.
I stirred awake, my head rising and falling with steady breathing. Confused, I looked up—
Oh. My. God.
My head was on Adrain's chest. His arm was wrapped around my waist. My fingers were clenched in his shirt.
Heat exploded across my face. I jerked back, moving slowly so he wouldn't wake.
I glanced at him—eyes closed.
Thank God. I eased his hand off me and stood.
Relief… until I turned back.
His eyes were open. Watching me.
Shit.
He didn't say a word.
Just grabbed his clothes and disappeared into the washroom.
A few minutes later, he emerged, water dripping from his hair.
He looked… No! No, not handsome. Definitely not.
Just—arrogant Blake.
I rushed into the washroom, staring at my reflection. Messy hair, tired eyes.
I looked like I'd fought aliens all night. Perfect.
When I came back, he was on the couch, scrolling his phone.
"I should go now," I said quickly. "See you at college."
"I'm coming with you."
"No, really, I can manage—"
"Eira." His tone snapped like a whip. "I'll take you."
"I said I can manage!"
"Why can't you listen just once?" His irritation flared.
"I'll return Andy's dress. Don't worry," I shot back, turning toward the door.
Before I could take a step, his hand closed around my wrist, pulling me sharply back.
I stumbled, ending up face to face with him, so close I could feel his breath.
His eyes were fierce, blazing into mine.
"Stop it," he growled. "You're not safe. You're coming with me, whether you like it or not. With your will… or I'll drag you."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
His grip was firm, unyielding.
I swallowed hard, lowering my gaze. "Fine…"
"Let's go. We're getting late."
I followed quietly, my mind a storm.
Why does he keep saying he doesn't care… yet never lets me go?
Is he… bipolar? Or am I the crazy one?