CHAPTER 24

Beatrice's POV

I don't even care if I was putting him in danger now. I only need to go back and stay back because apart from his cruelty, he isn't totally inhumane and he is even my mate and I need to get reassurance that he is safe.

I returned back to the hotel. I ran to Xander's room after collecting the spare key in the room from the receptionist. I immediately opened the door and I found that Xander was still sleeping. My mind was. At rest. I moved onto the couch so as to sleep. I hadn't slept for too long when I felt a gentle pair of warm hands touch me. I don't know what happened but I was immediately aroused, my nipple stood straight immediately and I had goosebumps all over but what's all this?

It's only Xander and I in the room so definitely, it must be Xander and when I looked up,it was actually him. I wanted to actually get his hands off me but my wolf had completely taken over me, instead, I drew him closer and our mouths were locked into each other, our tongues were entangled. I didn't know what was happening but I could only feel a little bit of pain and sweetness— my tongue started tasting like blood, Xander's wolf was way too rough.

Before I could even adjust myself, I felt one hand behind my back pulling me closer to him, I could feel his dick standing erect and ready to take action. Then the second hand was placed into my blouse, I was feeling sweetness, I kept calling Ryder .....Ryder stop. I felt all this moans were useless because his fangs and claws are already fully grown, he inserted them into me, i could only wince in pains...I ..I 

Then suddenly, I felt his cock finding its way to my sacred place. He removed my skirts with only one pull and used his dick to tease my vagina. He kept pouring cum on the surface of my vagina and he was using his dick to play around my vagina. I could only say Ryder continued....he shifted me to the bed and dropped me the put his dick in my mouth, I could taste a mixture of salt and sugar. I took it in and started thrusting it into my mouth,he was moaning, screaming at me to go harder.

He turned me to be below him and took his already wet dick drenched in my spit And inserted it into my vagina, one thrust and all I could do was to scream Ryder .... Stop!

Immediately everything froze in an instant and Xander moved back to the edge of the bed zipping up his trousers and pretended as if nothing had happened between us now .I lay on the other side feeling tired until I slept off.

A dull ache throbbed at the back of my neck as I stirred, my body curled uncomfortably on the bed, I could feel sore on my tongue, then my sacred area hurts.

The dim glow of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting faint golden streaks across the hotel room. I blinked, confused for a moment, my surroundings unfamiliar until the memories from last night came rushing back, I was so flushed with embarrassment and buried my head into the ground.

Xander.

I stayed.

I hadn’t meant to.

After checking him into the hotel, I went back to my car, intending to drive home. But exhaustion had weighed heavy on my body, and somehow, I had ended up back here, sitting by his bedside, convincing myself I’d only stay for a little while—just to make sure he was okay only for us to later have sex! 

I must have fallen asleep.

Slowly, I turned my head, and my breath caught in my throat.

Xander was awake.

He was staring at me.

His deep, unreadable eyes bore into mine, the usual coldness replaced with something else—something softer, something dangerous. The air between us felt heavier, charged, as if the silence held words neither of us were ready to say.

My pulse quickened.

“Why are you here?” His voice was hoarse, laced with irritation, but beneath it, I could hear the exhaustion.

I straightened immediately, pushing my tangled hair back and forcing my expression to remain neutral. "You don’t remember?"

Xander sat up, groaning slightly, rubbing his temple as if piecing the night together. His shirt was slightly unbuttoned, the fabric wrinkled from sleep, and there was a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"You were drunk," I explained, keeping my voice steady. "You couldn’t even walk straight. I tried to check your pockets for a key or address, but you had nothing on you. I had no choice but to bring you here."

He exhaled, tilting his head back, and for a brief second, I saw something flicker in his gaze—something almost vulnerable. But it disappeared just as quickly.

"You should have left," he muttered, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

I bit my lip, feeling the sting of his words. Of course, he would say that. He never wanted anyone near him, never wanted help.

"Well, I didn’t," I said simply, crossing my arms over my chest.

A tense silence stretched between us.

Then, as if on cue, Xander’s body tensed, his breath coming out in a sharp exhale. His fingers pressed against his temples, and a deep frown creased his forehead.

I frowned. "Xander?"

He didn’t answer.

I stood abruptly, stepping closer. His body was trembling slightly, his jaw clenched.

"Xander, what’s wrong?"

"I’m fine," he gritted out, but his voice lacked its usual strength.

I reached out instinctively, my hand brushing against his forehead, and a sharp inhale escaped me.

He was burning up.

My heart lurched. His temperature was alarmingly high, his skin radiating heat like a furnace. The signs were clear—he was sick, and it was hitting him fast.

"Xander, you have a fever," I said, my voice urgent now.

He let out a low growl, irritated. "It’s nothing. Just leave, Beatrice."

Anger flared inside me. Even now, when he was clearly unwell, he was still pushing me away. The same cold, distant act.

"You’re not fine!" I snapped, stepping in front of him, refusing to back down. "You can barely sit up, Xander. You’re burning up, and you’re acting like it’s nothing!"

He glared at me, his breathing uneven. "I don’t need your pity."

"Pity?" I scoffed. "You think I stayed here out of pity?"

His silence was enough of an answer.

I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to calm down. Arguing wouldn’t help, and right now, he needed care whether he wanted to admit it or not.

"I’m not leaving," I said firmly. "Not until your fever breaks."

His eyes darkened, but I held my ground.

"Beatrice—"

"Don’t argue with me," I cut him off, walking toward the small fridge in the corner of the room. "You need rest, and you need water."

I pulled out a bottle and handed it to him. He stared at it, then at me, as if deciding whether to fight me on this.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he took the bottle from my hand and drank.

Good.

I walked to the bathroom, dampened a small towel with cool water, and returned to his side. He watched me cautiously, his body still tense, but he didn’t protest when I pressed the cloth against his forehead.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

His breath was slow, steady, and I could feel the weight of his gaze on me as I focused on cooling him down. The tension between us hadn’t disappeared, but there was something different now—something quieter.

"Why?" His voice broke the silence, rough yet oddly subdued.

I glanced at him. "Why what?"

"Why do you care?"

The question caught me off guard.

I hesitated.

Why did I care?

Why did I stay?

I could have left after making sure he was settled. I could have walked away like he wanted me to. But something inside me wouldn’t let me.

Maybe it was because, despite everything, despite his coldness, his cruelty, his rejection—I still saw the man beneath it all. The man I had met years ago. The man who had once looked at me with something other than resentment.

Or maybe… maybe it was because I knew what it was like to be alone.

And I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

I swallowed, meeting his gaze. "Because you needed someone."

His expression flickered. For a moment, he looked as if he wanted to say something, but instead, he leaned back against the pillows, closing his eyes.

Silence fell between us again.

I stayed by his side, refreshing the towel, making sure he drank water, ignoring every sharp comment and irritated glare he threw my way.

Because beneath all of it, I could see the truth.

He wasn’t used to people staying.

And that… that broke my heart in ways I wasn’t ready to admit.

I didn’t know what this meant, or where it would lead.

But as I sat there, watching over him, I realized something.

No matter how much Xander pushed me away—

I wasn’t ready to let go not now...