Chapter 90: HOLD ME TONIGHT

Alda's POV

Our ride home was filled with a heavy, suffocating silence and a thick layer of tension. From time to time, I could see his eyes searching for mine in the side mirror, tracking me from the driver's seat. I didn't return the look. I just rested my head back against the headrest, pulling my feet up onto the seat, and stared blankly out the window as the streetlights blurred past.

I really wish I had taken the back seat.

At some point, I tightly closed my eyes, trying as much as possible to block out every single thought and voice ringing inside my head. But closing my eyes only made the noise louder, the anxiety worse.

I didn't bother opening them, though. I just kept them squeezed shut until the car eventually pulled to a sharp stop, the tires crunching against the gravel as Xender drove into the compound.

The moment the engine cut out, I was the first one to fling the door open and leave the car. I made my way upstairs immediately, wanting to hide, but I could hear Xender’s heavy footsteps following shortly behind me.

It took me actually getting to the door of my room to remember the absolute disaster the portal had left behind. I stood on the threshold, staring at the shattered furniture, the wet leaves, and the completely trashed space, and my knees immediately went weak. The sheer exhaustion of the night finally crashed down on me.

I felt Xender's presence materialize right behind me in the hallway. Swallowing the lump of anxiety in my throat, I summoned what little courage I had left to turn around and ask if I could use another one of his guest rooms for tonight.

“You can use my room,” Xender said the exact moment I turned to face him. “I had the water supply to the other guest rooms cut off a while ago since I usually don't have any guests over, except for Charles.”

He had already taken off his suit jacket, carrying it loosely in one hand. His tie was undone, hanging messily around his unbuttoned collar, and his features were deeply etched with pure worry.

“I could manage the guest room anyway,” I muttered, trying to protest, trying to keep my distance.

“I get that you don't want to be anywhere near me right now, Alda,” he said softly, his voice full of a quiet, heavy sadness. “So I will just use the guest room downstairs while you stay in mine. It should be much more comfortable for you.”

Before I could even argue, he turned on his heel and made his way back down the stairs.

I let out a long, shaky sigh before pushing open the door to his bedroom and stepping inside. The moment I crossed the threshold, the vivid memory of the night he found me at the pub came flashing back into my mind, and despite how messed up everything was, I couldn't help but let a small smile touch my lips.

Then my mind drifted to Seth's office—our very first meeting. Even though I had found him incredibly annoying back then, he had truly turned out to be the sweetest person in my world.

Shaking the thoughts away, I managed to find his bathroom and immediately turned on the taps to fix myself a hot bath. I spent the next thirty minutes completely submerging myself in the steaming water, washing the grime and blood out of my hair. By the time I finally stood up, the heat had successfully eased the worst of the painful tension in my body.

I stepped out of the tub and wrapped myself in Xender's oversized bathrobe. I was fully bracing myself to just wear it to bed—since almost all of my own clothes had been swallowed up or ruined by the portal chaos—but then I noticed something on the bed. A neatly folded, sleeveless satin nightwear set with its matching jacket was resting on the mattress.

I walked over and picked it up. It was brand new, but I wanted to wear something that had his scent on it.

A wave of longing hit me. It felt like his specific scent was the only thing capable of keeping me sane right now. Dropping the clean nightgown back onto the sheets, I marched straight to his wardrobe, pulled open the heavy doors, and grabbed one of his large button-down shirts. I let the bathrobe slip away, sliding my arms into his shirt instead. The moment the fabric settled over my skin, his dominant, comforting scent completely filled my nose.

I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, burying my face into the collar and deeply breathing him in. I was so lost in the comfort of his scent that I completely failed to hear him enter the room.

“Alda.”

I froze instantly at the sound of his deep voice, my heart skipping a beat before I slowly turned around to face him.

He was standing a few feet away from me, completely bare-chested with his skin still glistening from a fresh shower. His hair was dripping wet, and he held a white towel loosely in his hand.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his dark eyes locking onto me.

“Yeah... I... I'm fine,” I stammered, my cheeks burning as I suddenly became entirely too self-conscious about being caught wearing his clothes. “I was just...”

I watched his gaze travel down my bare legs, taking in the oversized shirt. I consciously reached down, grabbing the lower edge of the hem and pulling it down as far as it would go. Panicking, I immediately lunged forward, grabbed the new nightwear from the bed, and slipped right back into the bathroom to change.

When I finally returned to the bedroom, clad in the satin nightgown, he was still standing in the exact same spot, waiting for me.

He began approaching me slowly, his intense gaze never leaving my face.

“Why is your hair still wet?” he asked warmly, his voice dropping into a gentle cadence. “Let's dry it so you don't catch a cold.”

Without waiting for a response, he stepped into the bathroom and returned a second later with a hand dryer. He led me gently toward the edge of the bed, signaling for me to sit down before he plugged it in and started drying my damp hair.

I sat there completely rigid, my muscles tensing because of how devastatingly close he was standing to me. Every single time his knuckles accidentally brushed against the bare skin of my neck, a violent shiver ran straight down my spine. The hot air from the dryer only made it worse, sending waves of heat through my body as my senses reacted to everything about him.

When he finally finished, he clicked the machine off. He squatted down directly in front of me, bringing himself to my eye level. His dark eyes held mine for a long, breathless moment, and unable to take the intensity, I immediately looked away.

But Xender didn't move. He gently reached up, using his fingers to brush a few stray strands of damp hair away from my face, his thumb lingering to tenderly caress my cheekbone.

My eyes snapped back to his, searching his face for any sign of anger, but the moment our gazes locked, he abruptly pulled his hand away as if he had burned himself.

“Sorry,” he whispered quietly.

He stood up to his feet, picking up the dryer to put it away. The exact moment he created that physical distance between us, a wave of sharp regret hit me. I hated the space between us. I suddenly craved more of his touch—I just wanted him to hold me, to give me a hug, to tell me we were going to be okay.

“Do you want me to get you anything to eat?” he asked, pausing right by the bedroom door, his hand resting on the frame.

But a profound silence took over me. I couldn't answer. I just sat there on the edge of the mattress, staring at him.

Seeing him right there at the exit, knowing he was about to leave me alone for the night, made an immense, hollow emptiness bloom in my chest.

I... I wanted him close. I wanted him so badly, yet a part of me was still so terrified that I wanted to push him away. I didn't even know how it happened, but before I could fully realize what my own feet were doing, I was off the bed. I crossed the room in a blur, stopping right in front of him until there was barely any space left between our bodies.

“Alda, are you okay?” he asked, looking down at me with pure, unvarnished worry.

I looked him straight in the eyes, my gaze slowly dropping down to his lips. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted it so badly it was making my chest ache. I wasn't entirely sure what I was doing anymore, but I reached out, pressing my palms against his bare chest, slowly tracing the hard lines of his abs with my hands.

He looked down at my fingers in complete confusion, his breath catching, but I didn't give him a single chance to ask any questions. I slipped entirely into his space, stood up on my tiptoes, and sealed our lips together.

I pulled his upper lip into my mouth, sucking gently as I took his large hands and forcefully wrapped them around my waist, circling my own arms tightly around his neck. I pulled back for a fraction of a second, staring desperately into his eyes before whispering against his skin, “Kiss me.”

“Alda...?” he groaned, his questioning gaze holding mine, his chest heaving under my hands.

“I just want you to hold me tonight, Xender,” I said, my tear-filled eyes searching his. “Or I might not make it through the night.”

He stared at me, his resistance crumbling. When he reached out his hand and caressed my cheek, I immediately leaned heavily into his palm, pressing a desperate, lingering kiss right against his skin.

“Alda,” he groaned out my name, the last of his self-control snapping entirely.

He lunged forward, sealing our lips together once more. He didn't kiss me gently this time—it was a kiss born of pure, desperate hunger. He sucked at my lips, giving them a sharp, possessive bite that made me gasp. I kissed him back just as fiercely, our tongues chasing after each other as the buried emotions of the past few weeks finally erupted between us.

I felt every single part of my body burning with an overwhelming, intoxicating pressure. By the time we finally pulled away to catch our breath, we were both panting, struggling to draw air into our lungs. Without breaking the contact, Xender buried his face deep into the crook of my neck, sucking and nibbling on my sensitive skin, sending sparks straight to my core.

He kissed his way down to my shoulder, his hands moving to the straps of my sleeveless nightgown. He slid the silky fabric down my arms, letting it pool around my feet and leaving me in nothing but my underwear.

He stood back and stared down at me, his dark eyes burning with a mix of raw hunger and intense desire—a perfect mirror of exactly what I was feeling for him. Hating the physical distance between us, I stepped closer, rising on my tiptoes to press a flurry of kisses along his jaw, his cheek, and the pulsing vein of his neck.

A deep, guttural groan tore from his throat, his muscles locking as if he were begging his brain for some shred of self-control. His hands wrapped fiercely around my waist, pulling me flush against his hard body. Being completely skin-to-skin with him was driving me entirely crazy.

“Alda... if you keep doing that, I swear I won't be able to stop,” he warned, his voice incredibly hoarse, his chest vibrating against mine as I kept nibbling and pressing desperate kisses along his neck.

“Don't stop,” I whispered against his skin, before pulling his head down and sealing our lips together again.

And when his strong arms suddenly lifted me completely off the floor, pulling me up into his embrace, I leaned into him entirely—forgetting about the realms, the spirits, and every other terrifying thing that existed outside the safety of his arms.