Mated to the Mad Lord-Chapter 271: Next Morning(2)

Violet’s fingers trembled slightly as they ran over the bite at the back of her neck, her heart pounding as the memories of the night before came rushing back. Her body still remembered it all—every touch, every sensation, every overwhelming moment. And worst of all, she recalled how Cain had...

Her legs snapped shut instinctively.

"Fuck!" she yelled, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and horror.

The panic only grew as she became aware of the fact that her body had been cleaned—there was no sweat or grime on her skin, and the sheets were fresh. But none of that mattered compared to the more pressing concern clawing at her mind.

What if she was pregnant?

Her stomach twisted at the thought, her breath coming faster, her hands gripping the sheets as the possibility settled in.

Before she could spiral further, the door opened.

Her head whipped to the side as Cain stepped in, a tray in his hands.

He was dressed in a black shirt and pants, the fabric molding to his broad shoulders and tall, muscular frame. But it wasn’t just his sheer presence that caught her off guard—it was the details. The untamed golden hair, the relaxed yet confident way he carried himself, and most of all, those piercing red-and-gold eyes. They were striking, intense, almost hypnotic.

Violet found herself staring.

He’s gorgeous.

The thought came unbidden, and the realization hit her like a slap to the face. This was the same man who had wrecked her body last night. The same man she had screamed for.

She swallowed, her gaze flicking to the tray as he set it down in front of her, adjusting a bed tray over her thighs to balance it.

Cain didn’t speak right away. Instead, he carefully uncovered the food, revealing a warm bowl of beef soup.

Despite her inner turmoil, Violet’s attention briefly shifted elsewhere. Her gaze locked onto the cap on his head, curiosity sparking in her mind.

Were his ears still visible under there?

As if reading her thoughts, Cain reached up and casually removed the cap.

Violet’s lips parted slightly in surprise, her brows lifting as she searched for the familiar fluffy ears—only to find them gone.

"I could show them to you if you want," Cain said suddenly.

Before she could even respond, the ears popped up again, twitching in an almost comedic way.

Violet couldn’t help it. She smiled.

Her hand hesitated in midair, her fingers twitching slightly as she considered touching them. But just as she was about to withdraw, Cain grabbed her wrist gently and guided it toward his head.

"You’re my mate," he murmured. "Hesitating to touch me shouldn’t be something you do."

Violet swallowed as her fingers brushed over the softness of his ears. They were warm, velvety, and twitched slightly at her touch. A quiet giggle escaped her before she could stop it.

Cain’s gaze softened, but before she could get too comfortable, her expression darkened with sudden realization.

Her hand dropped from his head as she straightened, her brows furrowing.

"You’re fine?" she asked, pointing at his unusual eyes. The red and gold still glowed faintly, unnatural and mesmerizing. "They weren’t like that before."

Cain tilted his head slightly, as if debating how much to say. Then, with a small smirk, he answered, "I bonded with you yesterday. I feel great."

Violet’s expression immediately turned to one of disapproval.

"You shouldn’t have—"

"It’s fine," Cain interrupted smoothly. "I can wait until you’re ready to complete it."

Her frown deepened, her face heating up. "We... we had sex. I could be p-pregnant."

The words came out in a stammer, but she forced herself to meet his gaze, waiting for some kind of reaction.

Cain, however, remained perfectly calm. He didn’t flinch, didn’t tense—he simply exhaled quietly before lowering his gaze to the food on the tray. Picking up the spoon, he handed it to her.

"You won’t be," he said matter-of-factly.

Violet blinked. "What?"

"I’m a mess, Violet," he explained, his voice carrying a dry edge of amusement. "Trust me. Even though we had sex, I’m sure I’m not fertile."

Her grip on the spoon tightened. "You’re sure?"

Cain gave a small chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned back slightly. "This was my first rut ever. If I were fertile, I’d know."

Violet opened her mouth, ready to argue—but then let out a quiet sigh, nodding. A small wave of relief washed over her. She didn’t even realize how tightly she had been holding her breath.

She looked down at the soup, then took a hesitant sip.

It was warm, rich, and instantly soothed her stomach. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until now.

As she ate, Cain remained seated across from her, watching her with a quiet sort of satisfaction. Normally, the idea of someone staring at her while she ate would irritate her, but for some reason, she didn’t mind.

When she finished, exhaustion crept back in, making her limbs feel heavy.

Cain took the empty tray, setting it aside before urging her back down onto the bed. "Get some rest," he murmured.

Violet didn’t protest. She barely had the strength to keep her eyes open.

Cain began gathering the used plates, his expression unreadable—but there was a certain ease to the way he moved, like he was content.

Violet watched him through half-lidded eyes, barely registering the moment he leaned closer.

She only became fully aware when she felt the soft press of his lips against her forehead.

Her breath hitched slightly.

Then, just as gently, he kissed her lips.

Violet stiffened, her body on high alert. Was he going to push for more?

She was about to protest when—

He pulled away.

A knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. His golden-red eyes gleamed with amusement as he spoke in a low, teasing tone:

"You know I can sense how you feel now, right?"

Violet’s face instantly burned.

Her eyes widened in shock before she quickly turned her head to the side, attempting to hide the heat flooding her cheeks.

Cain let out a quiet chuckle but didn’t push further. Instead, he stood, still carrying the tray, and made his way toward the door.

Violet’s heart continued to pound even as she buried her face into the sheets, stubbornly ignoring the warmth blooming in her chest.

Cain was different from before.

And as much as she hated to admit it...

This version of him made her heart race.

She didn’t lift her head again until she heard the soft click of the door closing behind him.

~~~~~~~~

Cain’s expression was soft and gentle as he left the room, the lingering warmth from Violet’s presence still evident in his golden-red eyes. But the moment the door clicked shut behind him, that warmth vanished.

His face hardened, his gaze turning sharp and unreadable.

The hallway was lined with guards, all kneeling on one knee, their heads bowed so low their foreheads nearly touched the polished floor. None dared to lift their gaze, their bodies rigid with fear. The tension in the air was suffocating.

At the very front of them all, kneeling on both knees, was Uva.

Her dark hair was pulled back tightly, though strands had come loose from the weight of exhaustion and fear. Her hands were placed firmly on her thighs, her head lowered in complete submission. She did not move, did not tremble, but the stiffness in her shoulders betrayed the nerves she struggled to suppress.

Cain’s gaze swept over them like a blade, cold and merciless. He didn’t speak right away, letting the silence stretch until it became unbearable.

Then, without a change in expression, he pointed at Uva.

"Follow me."

His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of absolute authority.

Uva inhaled sharply but obeyed without hesitation. She rose smoothly to her feet, her movements precise and disciplined, though her heartbeat thundered in her chest.

Cain handed the tray he carried to the nearest guard, who jumped to his feet as if shocked by lightning. The man took it with both hands, his grip unnaturally tight as though dropping it would mean his immediate execution.

He didn’t even wait for further instructions—he simply turned and rushed down the stairs, his footsteps fading quickly into the distance.

The remaining guards didn’t move, their heads still bowed, their breaths held.

The air was thick with an unspoken dread.

Each of them remembered.

The memory was burned into their minds—the sight of Cain, standing amidst the bloodied remains of those who had failed him. The way his blade had cut through flesh so effortlessly, the way the severed limbs had fallen to the ground with sickening thuds.

And the worst part?

The ones he hadn’t killed outright, the ones he had left alive.

They had been mutilated, their bodies flayed open, then strung up like broken dolls under the scorching sun—left to bleed and suffer, their agonized screams ringing through the halls for hours.

No one dared to speak of it.

No one even breathed too loudly in his presence.

Cain moved forward without another glance at them, his strides long and purposeful.

Uva followed two steps behind, her back straight, her movements precise. She did not falter, did not hesitate, though the weight of his presence pressed against her like a crushing force.

The silence stretched as they walked, only the sound of their footsteps echoing through the corridor.

Cain said nothing.

He didn’t need to.

And that, more than anything, sent a chill down Uva’s spine.frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓