Chapter 686 - Sleep here tonight
"You're really unfair, you know that?"
Irina froze, her lips still brushing against his neck as a sound she hadn't expected reached her ears.
A chuckle.
It was low at first, soft, like the faintest ripple across calm waters, but it grew richer, resonating from his chest as though it came from somewhere deep and untouched. The warmth of it rolled over her, and for a moment, she couldn't move, couldn't breathe.
Astron chuckled.
Her mind reeled. She had seen him smile before—once under the moonlight, a quiet, subtle thing that had stolen her breath. And again, more recently, with this new, sharper face of his, a fleeting moment that had unsettled her in ways she still couldn't name. But a chuckle?
Never. Not once.
It wasn't the cold, calculated laugh she might have expected from someone like him. No, this was raw, unfiltered, like it had slipped past his usual control. There was no mask here, no detachment—just pure, unguarded emotion, and it echoed in her ears like a melody she didn't know she needed to hear.
Her breath hitched, her body still pressed against his as the sound settled between them.
Irina froze as Astron's hand moved with deliberate precision, his fingers brushing along her jawline before settling gently beneath her chin. The touch was firm but not forceful, carrying just enough weight to guide her, and her breath hitched as his voice, deep and authoritative, broke the silence.
"Raise your head."
The words echoed in her ears, the tone commanding yet laced with an undeniable warmth. It sent a shiver down her spine, her body obeying before her mind could catch up. Slowly, Astron lifted her chin, his touch steady, his movements deliberate, until her gaze was locked with his.
His face had shifted completely, the chuckle from moments ago replaced by a seriousness that made her heart skip. The intensity in his eyes, those star-like purple orbs, left no room for her to look away. Yet, even with his stern expression, she noticed the faint curl of his lips—the slightest upward tilt that betrayed his composed demeanor.
Irina's chest tightened. How could he do that? How could he transition so effortlessly from lighthearted to commanding, from open to unreadable, and still hold her entirely in his grasp? It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all, and yet, she couldn't stop the warmth spreading through her chest.
His thumb grazed her bottom lip, a feather-light touch that left her trembling. Her lips parted instinctively, her breath catching as she felt his fingers trace the soft curve with a tenderness that made her chest ache. Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out all other sound.
And then he moved.
Astron lowered his head slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. The moment stretched between them, the anticipation thick and electric, until finally, his lips brushed against hers. The touch was light at first, testing, but it carried a quiet intensity that left her breathless.
He kissed her, and this time, it was him who initiated it.
Irina's eyes fluttered shut as the kiss deepened, her body leaning into his as though drawn by some invisible force. His lips were soft, yet the pressure he applied was firm, his movements slow and deliberate, giving her no choice but to match his rhythm. Her hands, still trembling, slid up to his shoulders, gripping tightly as if afraid he might pull away.
But he didn't. Astron's other hand moved to the small of her back, drawing her closer against him. The heat of his body seeped into hers, and she felt her mind go blank, overwhelmed by the sheer presence of him. His lips were both demanding and gentle, coaxing a response from her that she couldn't have held back even if she wanted to.
It wasn't just a kiss. It was a statement—a claim, a reassurance, and an unspoken promise all at once. Irina felt it in the way his hand steadied her, in the way his lips lingered, in the way he held her as though nothing else mattered.
When he finally pulled back, his movements slow and measured, she found herself breathless, her eyes opening to meet his once more. His face was close, his gaze locked onto hers, and she felt the weight of his presence all over again.
"That," Astron murmured, his voice softer now, though no less certain. "Is the result of your own actions."
Irina stared at him, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. Words eluded her, her mind struggling to process the meaning behind his actions, his words. But one thing was clear—he wasn't hiding anymore.
And neither could she.
At the same time…..
She couldn't hold it back any longer.
Her chest heaved as she stared at him, the weight of everything—her life, her family, her responsibilities—crashing down like an avalanche. The Emberheart Mansion, the family name, the endless expectations, the suffocating legacy. Her mother's sharp words, the demands of the world around her, the unrelenting pressure of her Awakened life.
All of it could burn.
They could all burn.
Because in this moment, none of that mattered. Nothing else mattered.
"It's you," she whispered, her voice low but trembling with emotion. Her fiery red eyes bore into his, glowing with a heat that no flame could match. "Only you."
Her slender hands rose, cupping his face with a reverence that belied the storm of emotions raging inside her. The heat of her palms seeped into his skin, her fingers trembling ever so slightly as they brushed against the sharp lines of his jaw. Her body was already hot, worn out from the fight, her energy drained and aching for rest. But none of it mattered. Not now.
"Come here," she murmured, her voice husky, commanding yet vulnerable all at once.
And then she kissed him.
It wasn't gentle or hesitant. It was fierce, unrelenting, born from a place of raw desire and possessiveness. Her lips crashed against his with a hunger she hadn't allowed herself to feel until now. This wasn't a kiss of innocent affection or restrained longing. This was something deeper, something primal—a need to claim him, to make it known that he was hers.
Astron's body stiffened for a fraction of a second, but only just. His composure melted as her fervor enveloped him, and his arms instinctively tightened around her, pulling her closer. The heat between them grew, their bodies pressed together as though trying to erase the space that still dared to exist.
Irina's fingers slid from his face to tangle in his dark hair, gripping tightly as if afraid he might pull away. Her lips moved against his with a fervor that matched the fire coursing through her veins. She tilted her head, deepening the kiss, pouring every ounce of her frustration, her passion, her need into it.
This wasn't about expectations or the weight of the world anymore. This was about her. About him. About the undeniable connection that had simmered between them for far too long.
Astron responded in kind, his own restraint slipping as he matched her intensity. His hand moved from her back to her waist, his grip firm but not rough, grounding her in the whirlwind of emotion. The other hand slid to her neck, his thumb brushing against her pulse, which beat wildly beneath his touch.
Time seemed to freeze, the world outside the training room fading into oblivion. There were no whispers of duty, no chains of obligation. Just the two of them were lost in the fire they had ignited.
Irina pulled back just enough to catch her breath, her forehead resting against his as she panted softly. Her eyes, bright and unyielding, locked onto his, her voice trembling with determination and desire.
"I don't care about them," she said, her tone raw and fierce. "Not the mansion, not my family, not the world. None of it matters. You hear me? It's you, bastard. It is you."
She didn't give him a chance to respond, surging forward to claim his lips once more. This time, her kiss was slower, but no less intense, her actions deliberate as if carving her feelings into him with every movement. Her body burned with exhaustion and desire, but she didn't care. She couldn't care.
Because in this moment, he was hers. And nothing else mattered.
Irina's breath was ragged as she pulled back again, just barely enough to speak, her lips still brushing against his. Her fiery red eyes blazed with unrestrained passion, her exhaustion forgotten, her focus entirely on the man in front of her.
Her body burned hotter than ever, her Emberheart lineage igniting a heat that seeped into every fiber of her being. It wasn't just the lingering adrenaline from their spar or the weight of her feelings—it was the sheer presence of him, the way his hands steadied her, the way his lips answered her every movement with equal intensity.
Slowly, deliberately, she shifted, her knees sliding against the ground as she climbed over him. Her thighs straddled his hips, her body rising until she knelt above him, her gaze bearing down on him with an intensity that made his calm exterior falter for a moment. Her hands pressed against his chest, her fingers curling into the damp fabric of his training attire.
Their lips met again, and this time, the kiss was wild, consuming, filled with an urgency she couldn't name. Her body moved instinctively, leaning into him as though she could imprint herself on him entirely. Her hands slid lower, brushing against the planes of his chest, her touch firm yet trembling with the intensity of her emotions.
Her fingers curled around the edge of his shirt, tugging at it as a low growl of frustration escaped her lips. The fabric clung to his skin, damp and taut, and it felt like an obstacle—something that didn't belong there.
"This," she murmured against his lips, her voice husky and demanding, "is in the way."
Astron's gaze met hers, his purple eyes darkening with an intensity that matched her own. He didn't speak, but the slight curl of his lips and the way his hands moved to rest on her waist told her he wasn't going to stop her.
Her fingers gripped the hem of his shirt, her movements hurried yet deliberate. She leaned back just enough to tug at the fabric, her breath catching as more of his skin was revealed. The pale, jade-like glow of his body beneath the dim lighting of the training room made her heart race faster. Her hands traced the newly exposed skin, her touch lingering as if trying to memorize every detail.
Astron's hands tightened on her waist, his touch grounding her even as it sent shivers through her. "Irina," he murmured, his voice low, a quiet warning that was betrayed by the faint hitch in his breath.
But she didn't care. Not about his hesitation, not about anything else. Her lips descended on his again, silencing whatever he might have said, her fingers splaying against the bare expanse of his chest. Her touch was more confident now, emboldened by the fire coursing through her veins.
She pulled back briefly, her lips swollen and her breathing uneven as she looked down at him. Her hair fell around her face in wild waves, her eyes fierce and unrelenting. Her hands slid lower, brushing over the hard lines of his abdomen, her touch exploring, possessive.
"You…..you are going to sleep here today."
Chapter 687 - Sleep here tonight (2)
Irina's voice, though slightly breathless, carried a resolute determination as she leaned closer to him, her hands still pressed against the bare warmth of his chest.
"You… you are going to sleep here today," she said, her words steady despite the faint tremble in her lips.
Astron's sharp purple eyes locked onto hers, his expression shifting. For a brief moment, she saw a flicker of surprise, but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a narrowed gaze. His lips curved ever so slightly, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Really?" he asked, his voice low, a subtle challenge laced in his tone.
Irina's fingers tightened instinctively against his chest as her own resolve solidified. "Yes," she said firmly, her fiery gaze meeting his unflinchingly. Her heart raced, but she didn't back down. Not this time.
Astron's silence stretched for a moment, his narrowed eyes studying her. She could feel the weight of his gaze, the sharpness of his presence as if he were dissecting her words, her intent, her very soul. But she didn't waver.
She had already decided.
Her mind raced, but her resolve didn't falter. At this moment, nothing else mattered—not the judgment of her family, not her mother's sharp words, not even her own doubts. She'd already crossed the line, already boarded the ship. And now that she was here, she wasn't going to backtrack. She couldn't.
"I've made up my mind," she continued, her voice growing steadier. Her hands slid slightly upward, tracing the hard planes of his chest as if to anchor her conviction. "I don't care what anyone else thinks. Not my family, not the world. Right now, I just… I want you here."
Astron's gaze softened slightly, though his piercing intensity remained. He leaned his head back against the wall, exhaling quietly. "And why do you think I'd stay?" he asked, though his voice lacked the edge it usually carried. It was a question, but not a refusal.
Irina tilted her head, her hair falling over one shoulder as her hands pressed more firmly against him. Her lips curved slightly, her fiery red eyes glowing with renewed determination. "Because I won't let you leave."
Her words hung in the air, bold and unrelenting, her confidence born from the fire burning inside her. She wasn't sure where this courage had come from—perhaps from exhaustion, from desire, or simply from the fact that she couldn't let this moment slip through her fingers. Tomorrow, she knew she might falter, hesitate, or overthink. But tonight? Tonight, she couldn't let him walk away.
Astron's smirk widened slightly, though the faint glint in his eyes betrayed a flicker of something deeper—amusement, curiosity, or perhaps something he wouldn't name. "You're not going to let me, huh?" he said, his tone dipping into something teasing yet still carrying a weight of seriousness.
"No," Irina replied, her voice unwavering. Her hands slid up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing against the sharp lines of his jaw. Her lips hovered just inches from his as she whispered, "You're staying. Here. With me."
Astron's expression shifted again, his smirk fading into something softer, something almost unreadable. His hands moved from her waist, one trailing up her back to rest gently between her shoulder blades, the other brushing against her arm as if grounding her in her own certainty.
"You're sure about this?" he asked, his voice quieter now, though the weight of his question carried no less intensity.
"Yes," she answered without hesitation, her gaze locking onto his. "I'm sure."
For a moment, neither of them moved, the weight of her decision hanging in the charged air between them. And then, slowly, deliberately, Astron's hand slid up to rest lightly against the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair.
"Then I'll stay," he said simply, his voice carrying no doubt, no hesitation.
Irina exhaled, relief and anticipation flooding her all at once. She leaned forward, her lips brushing against his once more, her kiss a mixture of gratitude and the unspoken emotions she couldn't yet put into words. Tonight, nothing else mattered. Nothing except this.
Astron's sharp eyes softened as a rare smile curved his lips, a quiet warmth that seemed to melt the usual intensity of his features. He leaned forward, his breath brushing over Irina's skin, sending a shiver down her spine. His voice, low and rich, carried a calm certainty as he spoke.
"To be frank," he murmured, his lips close enough that she could feel the faint vibration of his words, "I don't really have anything to do. For the first time in a while, it feels like I have time—time to do whatever I want."
Irina's chest tightened, her heart pounding as his words sank in. There was something unguarded about his tone, something that made her breath hitch. Astron wasn't one to indulge, to linger, and yet now… now he was choosing this. Choosing her.
"And now that I've made a promise with you," he continued, his voice quieter, more deliberate, "I'll comply with whatever you want."
Irina blinked, her cheeks heating as she stared into his eyes. There was no teasing in his expression, no challenge—just sincerity. It left her breathless, and unsteady. Her lips parted, the words tumbling out before she could stop them.
"The time has started?" she asked, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound composed.
Astron nodded, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in his gaze. But before she could respond, she narrowed her eyes playfully, biting her lip. "But I made my plans for the whole week…"
He tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Then let's say this is an extension," he replied smoothly.
Before she could process his words, Astron shifted. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, his chin resting lightly on her right shoulder. The warmth of his body against hers was immediate, enveloping her in a way that made her breath catch. She froze for a moment, her heart pounding as his embrace tightened just enough to make her feel secure without overwhelming her.
For some reason, being hugged like this… it made her feel something she hadn't expected.
Safe.
She let her hands drift down, resting against his chest as she leaned into him, her cheek brushing against his. The weight of his presence, the steadiness of his breath, the way his arms anchored her—it was unlike anything she'd ever experienced.
Her thoughts wandered, unbidden, to her life at the Emberheart Mansion. She'd always been surrounded by people—servants, advisors, knights, and her ever-watchful family. She was the heir of one of the most powerful families in the world, the daughter of one of the strongest Awakened beings alive. She was constantly in the spotlight, held to impossibly high standards, bearing the weight of endless expectations.
And yet, for all her strength, all her power, she had never felt this safe.
It was strange, almost unnerving, how this one person could strip away the layers of her armor so effortlessly. In his embrace, the world outside the training room faded into insignificance. The weight of her lineage, her responsibilities, her mother's expectations—all of it seemed to dissolve, leaving only this moment.
This man.
Her lips parted slightly as the realization hit her like a quiet storm, the words forming in her mind as if they'd been there all along:
No matter what happens, this guy will come to my side. He'll be with me. Always.
Was this a delusion?
Was this really how he thought?
She didn't know completely.
But so what?
Did she really need to know what he was thinking all the time? Wasn't she allowed to dream on her own as well?
And most importantly…
The way he was acting right now….Wasn't he showing the biggest change for her sake….Then, isn't this enough?
Irina's fingers curled against Astron's chest, her lips parting as her voice slipped out in a barely audible whisper. "You… can you make another promise?"
Her words hung in the air, trembling with the weight of her unspoken fears and desires. She sought affirmation, something tangible to hold onto, yet the moment the question left her lips, doubt clawed at her. Her mind flashed to the vision she'd seen before—the memory that didn't belong to her but lingered like a haunting specter.
Estelle.
Astron had made a promise to her once, hadn't he? A promise he couldn't keep. The thought sent a pang through Irina's chest. What if asking for another promise dredged up those painful memories? What if it brought something heavy, something that destroyed this fragile moment she'd fought so hard to create?
Her breath hitched, her thoughts spiraling.
What if asking ruins everything?
The question she wanted to ask pressed against her lips, a desperate plea to know:
Will you stay by my side, no matter what happens?
But she swallowed it, forcing it back. The words lingered unspoken, too risky to voice.
Astron tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze narrowing as he looked at her. "What kind of promise?" he asked, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity.
Irina froze, her heart racing. She met his eyes for a fleeting moment before shaking her head quickly, her voice tight. "Nevermind. Just… stay here."
Astron's expression softened, but only for a moment. Then, without warning, he moved. His arms tightened around her, and before she could react, he scooped her up, lifting her effortlessly from the ground.
"Wha—?" Irina gasped, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as she found herself cradled against him in a perfect princess carry.
Astron's eyes gleamed with a hint of teasing as he looked down at her. "It appears that your mind is no longer working," he said smoothly, though his tone carried a rare warmth. "You must be tired."
Irina's face flushed, her lips parting in protest, but the words died in her throat. The closeness, the strength in his arms, the quiet certainty in his voice—it was all too much.
He began walking, his steps slow and deliberate, his hold on her steady and firm. Her hands tightened slightly around his neck, her breath hitching as she felt the steady rhythm of his movements.
"Put me down," she managed to mumble, though her voice lacked conviction.
Astron glanced at her briefly, his lips curving in the faintest smirk. "No."
Irina huffed, her face burying against his chest as she muttered, "You're insufferable."
"Perhaps," Astron replied, his voice carrying a teasing lilt. "But I'm insufferable and carrying you. So, I'd say I have the upper hand."
Her chest tightened, but this time it wasn't frustration—it was something softer, warmer. Despite her protests, despite her embarrassment, she didn't want him to put her down. The steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek, the strength of his arms holding her securely—it felt safe.
For the first time in a long while, Irina let herself relax completely, surrendering to the moment. Whatever questions lingered in her mind, whatever fears she hadn't voiced, they could wait.
Because right now, she didn't need promises. She didn't need words.
She had him.
Chapter 688 - Morning
The warmth of the sun filtered through the heavy drapes of Irina's room, casting soft golden hues over the sprawling expanse of her bed. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, the haze of sleep lingering in her mind. For a moment, she simply lay there, her body sinking into the plush mattress, her senses attuned to the unfamiliar stillness of the morning.
'The sun's up,' she thought, blinking slowly as she turned her head toward the window. The soft light streaming in confirmed what her drowsy mind had already noted. It was late—far later than she usually allowed herself to wake, especially here, at the Emberheart Mansion.
Her chest tightened slightly at the realization, a flicker of unease rising. Normally, her mornings were rigid, dictated by an unspoken schedule her mother ensured she followed. Early training, meetings, appearances—it was all part of being the Emberheart heir. She was used to waking before the sun, her body conditioned to a life of constant expectations.
But now? The morning stretched before her, silent and undisturbed.
Irina shifted slightly, her eyes scanning the empty expanse of her bed. It was massive, fit for the heir of one of the most powerful families, but also coldly empty—just as it always was. And yet, something felt different. The solitude of her mornings, normally oppressive, felt softer somehow, less suffocating.
Her hand drifted to the space beside her, brushing against the untouched sheets. She frowned slightly, the memories of last night beginning to seep back into her thoughts. The intensity of the spar, the closeness, the quiet vulnerability they'd shared—it all came rushing back, leaving her heart racing as if she were still caught in that moment.
"Ah…."
The realization hit her like a thunderclap.
Irina sat frozen, her hand still resting on the empty space beside her, her face rapidly reddening as fragments of last night's events played back in her mind with crystal clarity. The intensity of the spar, the closeness afterward, the boldness of her words—
her actions.
"Ah…" she whispered, her voice barely audible as the weight of her behavior settled on her shoulders. Her lips parted, her breath quickening as the memory of her declaration echoed in her mind.
"You… you are going to sleep here today."
Her face burned, her hands flying up to cover her cheeks as the words reverberated like a gong inside her head. What had she been thinking? Had she even been thinking at all?
"I basically offered to sleep with him…" she muttered to herself, her voice trembling with disbelief. "What was I even doing?"
Her mind spiraled, replaying the moment she had spoken with such determination, as though she'd planned it out. But she hadn't planned it—hadn't even truly thought it through. She had acted on impulse, driven by emotion, exhaustion, and something far deeper than she cared to name.
For some reason, her actions last night felt like the reckless abandon of someone drunk, someone who had abandoned all sense of logic. But now, in the bright light of morning, the logical part of her—the one that had been conspicuously absent the night before—had returned with a vengeance.
'I basically told him to stay with me,' she thought, her heart pounding as her fingers clutched the edge of the blanket.
And not just stay. I meant…
Her mind faltered, her cheeks growing impossibly hotter as the implications fully hit her.
Did I really mean that?
On one hand, she wasn't entirely opposed to the idea—not with him, not anymore. But on the other…
"That wasn't what I meant," she whispered, as if saying it aloud might somehow absolve her. Her hands tightened into fists, gripping the sheets as her chest heaved. "I didn't mean it like
that.
"
Her thoughts tumbled further into chaos, and an alarming question began to creep into her mind. One that she didn't want to ask, but couldn't ignore.
"Did we… really do it?" The words slipped from her lips before she could stop them, her voice barely above a whisper. Her memory was hazy, scattered by the haze of exhaustion and emotion. She couldn't remember anything specific—no vivid images, no sensations that confirmed or denied the thought.
But the fact that she couldn't remember made her chest tighten even more.
'Did that guy take advantage of me… and then leave?' The thought struck her, a wave of indignation and panic flooding her chest. But it was quickly followed by doubt. Astron wasn't like that. Was he?
Her brow furrowed, and she shook her head quickly.
No. He wouldn't. I would know. I would remember something like that… wouldn't I?
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stared down at her hands, her thoughts a swirling storm of uncertainty. She could still feel the faint warmth of his presence from last night, the way he had held her, carried her, spoken to her. None of it felt like someone who would take advantage of her.
And yet…
Her hands flew up to her face again, covering it as she groaned softly. "This is a nightmare," she muttered, her voice muffled behind her palms. "I'm losing my mind."
Irina shot upright, her movements frantic as her heart raced in her chest. Her eyes darted to the empty space beside her, scanning the bed with a mix of hope and dread. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, unmistakable and frustratingly familiar. Her gaze landed on the pillow next to hers—a slight indentation, a small but undeniable mark where someone's head had rested.
Her cheeks flushed an even deeper red as her memory flickered.
"Ah… blood!" she gasped, her voice trembling with panic. Her hands immediately went to the sheets, pulling and tugging at the fabric as she searched for any trace of crimson. Her heart pounded louder with each passing second, the thought burning in her mind:
If we really did it, there'd be blood, right?
Her fingers moved quickly, checking every fold and crease. But no matter how thoroughly she searched, the sheets remained pristine. There was no blood. No proof.
She froze, her breath hitching as she tried to calm herself. "Okay, so… maybe nothing happened," she murmured, though her voice betrayed her lingering doubt. "Maybe—"
The sound of the door opening cut through her thoughts like a blade. She turned sharply, her eyes wide as Astron stepped into the room, his presence immediately filling the space.
"What blood?" he asked, his voice calm, but his raised eyebrows betrayed his curiosity. His sharp purple eyes flicked to her, then to the disheveled state of the bed.
Irina's mouth opened, then closed again as she took in the sight of him. He looked as composed as ever, his dark hair slightly damp, and in his hands, he carried two cups, both steaming faintly. The scent of freshly brewed tea wafted through the room, mingling with the lavender she already associated with him.
"Ah…" was all she managed, her voice barely a squeak. Her face burned with embarrassment, and she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze.
Astron's smirk was subtle but unmistakable as he stepped closer, placing one of the cups on the bedside table before holding the other in his hand. "I take it you're… awake now?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement.
Irina's hands flew up to her face, covering it as she groaned softly. "This is… you—what are you doing here?" she stammered, her voice muffled by her palms. She peeked out between her fingers, her gaze darting between him and the tea.
Astron tilted his head slightly, his expression unchanging. "You told me to stay," he said simply, his tone calm and matter-of-fact.
Irina's stomach flipped, the memory of her bold declaration hitting her like a wave.
"You… you are going to sleep here today."
Her hands fell to her lap as she looked at him, her face a vivid shade of red. "I didn't mean it like that!" she blurted out, the words tumbling out before she could stop them.
Astron raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing slightly as he leaned against the wall, the tea still in his hand. "Didn't you?" he asked, his voice steady but teasing.
Irina glared at him, her embarrassment turning into indignation. "No! I mean… yes? I mean…" She groaned again, grabbing the pillow and burying her face in it. "Ugh! You're impossible!"
Astron chuckled softly, the sound low and warm as he placed the second cup of tea on the other side of the bed. "Good morning to you too, Irina," he said, his voice carrying the faintest hint of amusement.
Irina peeked out from behind the pillow, her fiery gaze meeting his. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she muttered, her voice dripping with accusation.
Astron shrugged, his smirk softening into something more genuine. "You make it hard not to," he admitted, his tone light.
Her lips twitched, and she hated how her heart skipped at his words. She grabbed the cup nearest to her, holding it between her hands as if the warmth might calm her racing nerves. "Fine," she mumbled, her eyes darting away. "But next time, don't… don't just walk in without knocking."
Chapter 689 - Morning (2)
The warmth of the tea in Irina's hands grounded her as she sat across from Astron. The quiet weight of his presence filled the room, the faint scent of lavender mixing with the rich aroma of the tea. Her initial embarrassment began to ebb, replaced by a lingering curiosity and a slow, creeping sense of recollection.
As she took another sip, her gaze flickered to Astron. His composure, his calm demeanor—it was impossible to ignore. And with it, fragments of last night began to piece themselves together in her mind.
She remembered the moment he had carried her, the strength in his arms as he navigated the hallways of the Emberheart Mansion. She'd been too exhausted to protest, her body too drained to do much more than rest against him. Yet, even in her haze of fatigue, she'd felt safe—an unfamiliar but comforting feeling.
'He laid me on the bed,'
she thought, her cheeks warming slightly at the memory. His movements had been deliberate, careful. He'd settled her onto the plush mattress as though she were something fragile, his touch gentle as he ensured she was comfortable.
Her fingers tightened around the cup as the next memory surfaced.
They hadn't simply parted ways after that. Astron had stayed, sitting beside her on the edge of the bed. She could still remember the faint glimmer of exhaustion in his usually sharp eyes, the subtle tension in his posture that spoke of a day spent pushing himself to his limits.
And yet, even with that fatigue, he'd remained.
They had talked for a while—soft, quiet words that seemed to fill the room with a rare sense of peace. His hand had brushed against hers at one point, a light, fleeting touch that had sent warmth spiraling through her. And then, as if drawn by some unspoken understanding, he'd allowed himself to relax, his head tilting back against the headboard.
'I was tired,' she thought, her lips curving into a faint smile. 'So was he.'
Her mind wandered further, recalling the subtle touches that had followed. Nothing overt, nothing rushed—just light caresses, hands brushing over shoulders and arms, the occasional shift of weight as they sat close to one another. She hadn't felt the usual tension of expectation or propriety. There had been no urgency, no demand for more. Just the quiet comfort of his presence, his scent, his warmth.
Her exhaustion had eventually caught up with her, pulling her into sleep before she could even realize it. The last thing she remembered before drifting off was the sound of his steady breathing beside her, a rhythm that had lulled her into rest.
And then there was him—beside her, resting as well. The memory of his still figure lying beside her returned, and her chest tightened at the thought. Astron, who rarely let his guard down, had chosen to stay. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to.
Her gaze flickered to him now, sitting across from her, his hand resting casually on his cup. His expression remained composed, but she could see the faint lines of weariness in his features, the subtle reminder of the toll yesterday had taken on both of them.
Irina's gaze lingered on Astron, his composed demeanor a stark contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts still swirling in her mind. She took a small sip of her tea, the warmth soothing but doing little to quiet the growing sense of unease mixed with an odd comfort she didn't want to name.
"Are you still tired?" she asked suddenly, her voice softer than she intended.
Astron looked at her, his sharp purple eyes narrowing slightly before he shook his head. "No," he replied, his tone even. "Not anymore. I slept quite well, in fact."
Irina blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the simplicity of his answer. "You… slept well?" she echoed, her cheeks heating slightly as she thought back to the quiet moments they had shared before sleep overtook her.
Her thoughts turned inward.
I slept well too,
she realized, a fact that surprised her. It had been a deep, peaceful sleep, unbroken by the usual tension or unease she often carried.
Was it because of that bastard? Or was I just that tired?
She didn't know. But the thought made her heart twist slightly, a part of her reluctant to admit how much his presence might have helped.
Her lips parted as if to speak again, but then something struck her. Her expression shifted, her eyes widening slightly as she leaned forward. "Wait… what time is it?" she asked, her voice tinged with sudden urgency.
Astron raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her shift in tone. "It's 10 A.M.," he said smoothly, his lips curving into a faint smirk as he took another sip of his tea.
"Ten?" Irina repeated, her voice rising an octave as the weight of the time hit her. Her eyes widened further, and she sat upright, the blanket slipping off her shoulders. "Ten?!"
Panic surged through her.
If my mother finds out about this…
She could almost hear the sharp tone of her mother's voice, the disapproving look in her eyes. It wasn't just about missing breakfast—it was about the principle of it. Her mother's strict rules left no room for negotiation or leniency. If something's time had passed, it had passed. There were no second chances.
And now, not only had Irina missed breakfast, but Astron had too. The two of them hadn't shown up, and if her mother found out why…
Her stomach twisted at the thought, but then—
RUMBLE.
Her face burned as her stomach growled loudly, betraying her hunger in the silence of the room. Irina froze, her cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red as she clutched her blanket tighter.
Astron's sharp gaze flickered to her. "Hungry?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with amusement.
Irina glared at him, though the effect was somewhat diminished by her flushed cheeks. "It's your fault," she muttered, her tone defensive. "If you hadn't…" Her voice trailed off as she realized she couldn't finish the sentence without incriminating herself further.
Astron chuckled softly, the sound low and rich, sending a shiver down her spine. "If you hadn't told me to stay?" he teased, his tone light but unmistakably smug.
Irina groaned, burying her face in her hands as her stomach rumbled again, this time even louder. "Shut up," she mumbled, her voice muffled.
Astron didn't reply immediately, but when she peeked through her fingers, she saw him standing, his calm demeanor unchanged. "Come on," he said simply, holding out a hand. "Let's find something to eat."
She hesitated, her pride warring with the undeniable truth of her hunger. But as her stomach growled yet again, she sighed in defeat, reaching for his hand. "Fine," she muttered, her voice low. "But if my mother finds out…"
Astron's smirk deepened as he looked at her, his sharp gaze gleaming with amusement. "You weren't worried about your mother finding out when you were doing all
that
yesterday," he said smoothly, his tone laced with playful teasing.
Irina scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned her head to the side, her fiery red hair cascading over her shoulder. "Hmph," she retorted, her voice brimming with defiance. But the faint blush dusting her cheeks betrayed her composure, her thoughts racing back to the night before.
Astron chuckled again, his voice low and rich. "Fine, fine," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'll make you breakfast. After all, you're the heir of the Emberheart family. It makes sense that you've never cooked for yourself."
Irina's eyes narrowed as she shot him a glare. "I could if I wanted to," she muttered, though the words lacked conviction. A faint memory flickered in her mind, pulling her attention away from her retort.
She remembered the time in Phantom's Land, a moment etched vividly in her mind. She, Astron, and Sylvie had been stranded there, left to fend for themselves.
She and Sylvie, both entirely useless when it came to survival skills, had been completely at his mercy. Astron had been the one to gather ingredients, start the fire, and prepare their meals.
Her lips twitched into a faint smile despite herself as she recalled the way he had effortlessly managed everything, his calm demeanor never wavering. Both she and Sylvie had been ravenous, practically inhaling the food he'd made. His cooking had been far better than she'd expected—simple but delicious.
'It's been a while,'
she thought, a flicker of anticipation rising in her chest. The memory of his cooking, the warmth of the meal, the quiet satisfaction of being cared for—it all came rushing back.
Her gaze flickered back to Astron, who was already moving toward the door with that same unhurried confidence. The faint desire in her heart grew stronger, and before she could stop herself, she spoke up.
"Don't mess it up," she said, her tone sharper than she intended, though her blush betrayed her. "If it's as bad as your sparring skills, I'll throw it out."
Astron paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder with a faint smirk. "So you're saying my sparring was bad now?" he asked, his tone amused.
Irina huffed, crossing her arms again. "Just make the food," she said, her voice quieter this time, her blush deepening.
"…."
Astron didn't reply, his smirk lingering as he stepped through the door, leaving Irina standing in her room. She watched him go, her arms still crossed as her blush deepened.
"Stupid guy," she muttered under her breath, her gaze flickering to the bed before returning to the door.
How does he always manage to get the last word without even saying anything?
With a soft sigh, she moved toward her wardrobe, her thoughts drifting as she began to collect herself. If Astron was heading to the kitchen, it would give her some time to freshen up. She glanced down at herself, the faint sheen of sweat on her skin reminding her of last night's sparring match. The memory of their duel—the heat, the intensity, and everything that had followed—sent a wave of warmth through her cheeks once more.
'I didn't even shower yesterday,'
she realized, cringing slightly. Her competitive spirit had driven her to push herself to the limit during the spar, and afterward… well,
everything else
had happened.
She ran a hand through her fiery red hair, wincing at the slight tangle near the ends. It felt wrong to let herself be so disheveled, especially now. Astron might have seen her at her most vulnerable yesterday, but that didn't mean she wanted to stay in that state.
'I'll just take a quick shower,'
she decided, her steps purposeful as she moved toward the bathroom.