My gaze snapped up, cutting through the charged air to the stranger who had tried to touch her. A fresh, unwelcome heat, jealousy, though I would never speak the word, flared in my chest. He had been the one to see her in that state. My lip curled, and I fixed him with a glare so venomous it should have turned him to ash.
He only took a hesitant step back, his face a mask of pure, bewildered fear. Good.
Beneath my hands, I felt the frantic energy of the mark subside into a deep, rhythmic hum. Soothed. Satisfied. Mine. The immediate crisis had passed, but the need to remove her, to shield her from every prying eye, was an instinct as vital as breathing.
In one fluid motion, I bent and gathered her into my arms, cradling her against my chest. My grip was soft, reverent, but every other muscle in my body was drawn wire-tight.
As if on cue, a sleek black car slid silently to the curb. My driver, Ivan, was already out, holding the rear door open without a word, his eyes carefully averted. I didn't break stride.
"Let's go home, my bunny,"
I murmured into her hair, the endearment falling from my lips as naturally as a heartbeat. I ducked into the waiting sanctuary, settling her gently on the seat before sliding in beside her. Ivan closed the door with a firm, final thud, sealing us in our own private, moving universe.
I held her close. I had finally found something, someone, worth guarding in that empty hall of mine. Her faint grip on my coat anchored me, fragile yet desperate. I wanted to apologize, but the words wouldn't leave my mouth. All I could do was caress her and kiss her pain away. My hand cradled the back of her head, pressing her gently against my chest as I breathed into her hair.
Wine. Again.
A faint smile touched my lips. She was unique, the most breathtaking woman I had ever known. I would kneel at her feet if she wished it. My lips brushed the still-throbbing mark on her shoulder, releasing my pheromones, pouring everything I had into her comfort. Her red, tear-damp eyes lifted to meet mine, eyes I would die for.
My fingers threaded through her white hair, shimmering like moonlight and kissed with faint pink strands that glowed like cherry blossoms at dawn.
She had fallen into a soft state of unconsciousness as my pheromones numbed her pain, the exhaustion finally claiming her. I held her closer, feeling the rise and fall of her breath against me, fragile, steady.
Then, through the haze, her soft voice broke the silence, fragile and trembling, yet cutting straight through me.
"Why do you keep helping me? I only bring you problems…"
Her words lingered in the air like a confession, or maybe a wound I'd already accepted as mine to bear.
I looked down at her face, calm now in sleep, her expression soft and unguarded. For someone who thought she only brought trouble, she had no idea how much light she carried, how much darkness she chased away just by existing.
I brushed a strand of her hair from her cheek, my thumb tracing the edge of her jaw.
"Because you're worth the chaos," I whispered, though I knew she couldn't hear me. "Because when everything else turns to noise, you're the only thing that feels real."
She stirred faintly in my arms, and I felt the mark pulse once more, gentler this time, almost content. I smiled to myself, a tired, quiet smile meant for no one.
"I'll take every problem you bring," I murmured into her hair. "As long as it keeps you in my arms."
The city had gone still around us, the faint hum of distant traffic barely reaching where we stood. I shifted her carefully, her head resting against my shoulder, the soft weight of her body molding perfectly into mine. She was completely still now, lost to exhaustion, trusting me even in sleep. That trust was heavier than any burden I'd ever carried.
The mark on her neck had quieted, pulsing in rhythm with my own heartbeat. The drive to the mansion was silent, only the sound of her breathing filled the space. Every few minutes,
When we arrived, the gates opened without a sound, the sleek black iron parting like shadows bowing to her presence. The mansion stood tall against the night sky, dark stone, high arches, and the faint glow of warm light spilling from the windows.
I carried her through the doors, my steps quiet on the marble floors. The air inside smelled faintly of cedar and smoke, my scent, and I knew it would soothe her, calm the mark.
I took her upstairs to my room. The room was large, too large, its walls stretching high with dark wood panels and tall windows that let the moonlight spill across the floor. A faint chill lingered in the air, the kind that never quite left the mansion, no matter how many fires were lit. The bed stood at the center, draped in deep gray sheets, untouched and cold, like the rest of the place.
She looked too small, too fragile against the expanse of it as I laid her down. Her skin was pale, her breaths uneven, the exhaustion clear on her face. She had fought too long, carried too much. Seeing her like that made something ache in my chest, a mix of protectiveness and guilt. This was the first time someone else had been here, in this space I'd kept closed off for years, and it felt… different.
For a moment, I just stood there, watching her, memorizing the peace I'd fought so hard to protect.
Then, kneeling beside the bed, I brushed my fingers along her hair once more, letting my pheromones fill the room in gentle waves.
"Rest," I whispered. "You're safe here."