The morning after the hospital, the villa felt impossibly quiet, almost fragile. Diana sat wrapped in a soft blanket on the couch, her hands resting over the gentle curve of her stomach. Every small movement tugged at her nerves, but the knowledge that both she and the baby were safe made her chest ache with relief.
He didn't leave her side.
"Don't try to move too quickly," he said, his dark eyes scanning every corner of the room as if expecting danger to appear. "I will not forgive myself if something happens to you."
She tried to laugh, a soft, sleepy sound. "I'm fine… really. I just…" Her words faltered as he leaned closer, pressing a cool hand to her forehead.
"I said stay still." His voice was gentle now, but firm. "No excuses."
Over the next few days, he poured every ounce of his energy into making sure she wanted for nothing.
Fresh fruit arrived daily — exotic berries she had never tasted, soft bread baked to perfection, and rich, creamy foods designed for her health. Her wardrobe, once simple and functional, grew into something new every day. Soft gowns, flowing dresses, delicate slippers — all carefully selected for comfort and beauty, each piece a reminder that she was no longer just a female from a sanctuary.
She blushed as he watched her try them on, offering quiet, approving nods.
"You look… perfect," he murmured. His usual predatory edge softened, replaced by something tender, protective.
"I… I feel spoiled," she whispered, unsure if she should laugh or cry.
"Good," he said simply. "You deserve to be."
He even took to arranging private lessons for her — everything from reading about the world beyond the sanctuary, understanding household management, and even small martial lessons so she could defend herself if necessary. He wanted her prepared, not just protected.
And though he continued to be possessive — watching her movements, holding her hand in public, making sure no one else approached too closely — there was also a new warmth in the way he spoke to her, in the quiet moments when he brushed a stray hair from her face or pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.
Diana realized slowly that she had never felt this safe, this cared for, or this truly wanted. Her life had been filled with rules and fear, but now… now she had someone who would fiercely protect her, spoil her, and love her — all at once.
One evening, as she rested in one of the new chairs he had insisted she have by the window, he leaned close and whispered,
"You and our child… you are everything to me. No one will harm you. Do you understand?"
Her eyes brimmed with tears, but she nodded. "I understand."
And for the first time in a long while, she believed it.
The estate was alive with lights, laughter, and the quiet murmur of wealth and power. A grand hall had been prepared for the evening — crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, polished marble floors, and tables set with silver and fine porcelain. The scent of rare flowers filled the air, mingling with the faint tang of candle wax.
Diana's hand trembled slightly as he guided her through the grand entrance. Her dress was soft, flowing, and elegant — one he had personally chosen — and the bracelet on her wrist glinted under the chandelier's glow.
"You will follow me," he said, his voice low, firm. "And remember: in this hall, I am the only one whose opinion matters. Others may look, but no one will touch or speak to you without my permission."
She nodded, comforted by the warmth of his hand on hers. The crowd's eyes turned toward them as they entered. Whispers rippled through the attendees — the young man's newest partner, his female from the sanctuary, bold enough to stand beside him.
His family waited near the far end of the hall. His father's eyes flicked to Diana, sharp and calculating, while others offered veiled smirks and sideways glances. He didn't falter. He stopped, straightened his shoulders, and held Diana's hand a fraction tighter.
"This is Diana," he said, voice carrying effortlessly over the murmurs. "My partner. She will be respected by everyone here. Any deviation from that will be dealt with immediately."
The hall fell into a tense silence. Some nodded politely; others, like his father, simply stared, displeasure etched into every line of their face.
"You are mine," he continued, almost as a private warning to anyone who might underestimate him. "Remember that."
Diana felt heat rise to her cheeks, both from his words and the awareness that every eye in the room was on her. But she also felt a strange thrill — the protective aura he radiated, the certainty in his stance, and the pride in the way he presented her. She belonged to him, and he was making that known to the world.
His father finally broke the silence, stepping forward.
"A female from a sanctuary?" he said, voice tight. "You bring her here to mingle with… us?"
He turned, eyes flashing.
"Yes. And she will not be treated as anything less than what I say she is. She is not merely for… breeding. She is mine. And that is enough."
A ripple of murmurs spread through the hall, but no one dared challenge him further.
He led Diana to a seat near his, beside the main chair, ensuring she was always within his reach. She could feel his presence even as he let her take in the grandeur of the room. Every whisper, every sidelong glance, he absorbed silently, unyielding.
Later, as the evening wore on, Diana noticed subtle changes in the way the guests treated her — some with respect, others with cautious curiosity, all aware that challenging her now meant challenging him.
He leaned close, voice soft in her ear,
"See? You are safe. And in my world… you are important. Not just a female from a sanctuary. You… belong here."
Her heart fluttered. The protection, the ownership, the way he claimed her publicly — it wasn't just fear or domination. There was something else in it. Something warm, steady, and undeniable.
For the first time since leaving the sanctuary, Diana felt truly seen — not as a possession, not as a tool, but as a partner, someone he was willing to protect fiercely, both in private and in front of the world.