Casaio slumped onto the bed, his head resting back against the headboard. The damp strands of his hair, still glistening from his recent shower, caught the warm glow of the lamp on the nightstand, casting soft shadows on his face.
Zilia entered the room in a silk robe that hugged her curves, the fabric shimmering slightly as she moved. She carried two glasses of wine, her steps deliberate and slow.
"You were in San Ravendale for more than a day. I thought you’d be back sooner. Gabriel isn’t exactly the type to host for long," she said, handing him one of the glasses.
"I wasn’t staying in his mansion," Casaio answered, accepting the glass. He took a slow sip before letting the stem of the glass rest between his fingers, still lost in thoughts.
Zilia climbed onto the bed from the other side and settled beside him, tilting her head as she observed his face. "Did he throw another tantrum?"
"He always does," Casaio muttered.
"It’s because he hasn’t found his mate yet," Zilia responded quietly, sipping her wine. "He’s still lost... and angry."
"He thinks we all hate him. That Mom never wanted him, and that poisoned everything," Casaio said, downing the rest of his wine in one swallow.
"Let him be," she whispered, her voice softer as she inched closer. "He’ll find his mate one day... and maybe then, he’ll finally heal."
Her breath grazed his neck, and Casaio turned slightly to look at her. Zilia tilted her glass and finished the last of her wine. Casaio took it from her, placing both glasses on the bedside table.
But before he could say anything more, Zilia had already moved. In one smooth motion, she straddled him, her lips capturing his in a deep, hungry kiss.
"When are you going to marry me?" Casaio asked, his voice low and breathless as they pulled apart for a moment, their foreheads still touching.
Zilia smiled, her fingers slipping down to untie the knot of her silk robe. "Soon," she whispered, letting the robe fall open slightly. Her hand glided up from his firm abdomen to his chest, her touch featherlight and deliberate, drawing a soft groan from him.
Casaio narrowed his eyes playfully, his fingers finding the sash of her robe and giving it a gentle tug. "You’ve been saying ’soon’ for a while now. When exactly is that going to happen?"
Zilia leaned closer, brushing her lips against the corner of his mouth. "Isn’t the matebond just as sacred as marriage? Maybe even more?" she murmured. "Our souls chose each other long before any ceremony could."
Casaio stared at her. "Maybe," he said, voice rough, "but I still want to see you in white, walking toward me, mine in every way, before the world." He peppered kisses from her neck to the exposed shoulder, then collarbone.
"We talked about it in the past too, Casaio," she whispered and moaned when his hand squeezed her curve gently.
"I want us to get married, Zilia. I think it’s the time we should," he affirmed before flipping her on the mattress.
"Fine. Let’s do it," Zilia said, wrapping her arms around his neck before pulling him down.
~~~~~
After dinner, Gabriel and Amelie retreated to their respective rooms. While Amelie had gone to bed, Gabriel stepped onto the balcony attached to his room, a cigarette loosely held between his fingers.
He lit the cigarette before he drew in a breath, letting the smoke curl from his lips as he leaned against the cold marble balustrade.
His gaze wandered into the dark horizon, but his thoughts were elsewhere, tangled in the chaos of recent events.
"I’m not picking up her scent... Was the Queen always right about me? Am I truly born to suffer hell and bring chaos?" he muttered bitterly, pressing the cigarette back to his mouth.
He rarely called her ’Mom.’ On the rarest of days, she was ’Mother.’ But most of the time, he referred to her simply as ’the Queen.’
"Gabriel, you smoke!?" Amelie’s voice reached his ears, catching him off guard. He turned swiftly to see her standing at the doorway.
"Weren’t you asleep?" he asked, lowering the hand holding the cigarette as if to hide it. "Yeah, I smoke sometimes," he admitted.
Realizing it wasn’t right to smoke around her, he added gently, "Wait for me in the bedroom."
Amelie gave a small nod and quietly disappeared from his view.
Gabriel glanced at the smoldering cigarette between his fingers, then pressed the butt against the stone floor, extinguishing it before tossing it into the nearby bin. He washed his mouth before going near Amelie.
When Gabriel entered the bedroom after washing his mouth and hands, he found Amelie seated on the recliner. She was busy on her phone.
"I thought you were asleep," he remarked.
"I got a message," Amelie responded without looking up.
Gabriel raised a brow. "From whom?" he asked.
"I don’t know. But it was strange... it’s my new number. Hardly people have it," Amelie replied, her brows furrowed as she handed him the phone.
Gabriel took it from her and scanned the message on the screen, his jaw tightening slightly.
"I’ll ask Karmen to look into it," he said calmly.
"But isn’t it strange?" Amelie asked, her voice laced with concern as her eyes searched his face.
Gabriel nodded, trying to reassure her. "It is. But don’t worry. These days, it’s easy to trace the people behind messages like this."
He walked over to the nightstand, picked up his phone, and quickly took a screenshot of the number and message. He them it to Karmen.
’Find out who sent this message,’ he typed, then hit send. He glanced back at Amelie. "Don’t fret. We’ll get to the bottom of it."
Her voice trembled. "The person said they’d reveal to the world that I should get rid of the pup... It can’t be Alex, right? He doesn’t even have my new number. Who could it be?"
Her body trembled in fear, which didn’t go unnoticed by Gabriel.
He knelt down in front of her, gently taking her hands in his. "Don’t worry," he said softly. "I’m here."
His violet eyes met hers, glowing a little. Something in his gaze soothed her, making her feel better.