Page 14 of Bound By Crimson

Chapter Fourteen

Bound Becomes Her

The scent of roses lingered in the cool morning air.

Satin sheets clung to her bare skin, soft as a memory.

The night before felt like a fever dream—his touch, the way he had helped her out of the corset with slow, patient hands while sleep clung to her limbs.

The brush of his lips at her temple, a quiet promise she couldn’t quite recall.

Now, pale light spilled across the room. The bed shifted as she stirred, and when her eyes fluttered open, a sharp breath escaped her.

For a moment, she forgot where she was. Then it hit her—every breathless second of the night before.

Still pulsing beneath her skin. Still echoing in her bones.

Heat flushed her cheeks, the weight of everything that had passed between them pressing against her ribs.

She suddenly felt bare—not just in body, but in truth.

The soreness between her legs reminded her that everything had changed.

Her pulse quickened.

What did I do ?

The memory of his hands, his mouth, his voice—all of it came rushing back. Vivid. Wild. Her stomach twisted with both thrill and uncertainty.

She had given herself completely to him.

Did she even really know him?

What kind of girl does that?

She glanced around. He wasn’t there.

Of course he wasn’t.

She clutched the sheet to her chest, and sat up, trying to steady her breath.

The soft morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, illuminating carved moldings and gilded furniture. The grand, decadent room that had felt like a dream now felt exposed. And so did she.

And then—his voice.

“Good morning.”

She startled slightly.

He was leaning against the doorway, watching her with that same unreadable intensity. Bare-chested, hair tousled—like sin itself wrapped in golden light. He stood near the balcony, barefoot, a coffee mug in hand, looking as if he’d lived a thousand mornings before this one.

The sunlight poured over his sculpted chest, down his torso, catching on the chain around his neck. He looked relaxed. Dangerous. Unapologetically beautiful.

Lyric’s throat tightened. This was real.

Her lips parted, but no words came.

He crossed the room slowly, each step deliberate. “I didn’t mean to disappear. I didn’t want to wake you. You looked… peaceful.”

She nodded, fingers tightening on the sheet. “I should go. The store—Velora’s expecting me.”

His gaze darkened—not with anger, but something deeper. Possessive. Certain.

“I meant what I said last night.” His voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Her pulse raced as he climbed onto the bed, bracing himself on either side of her. The sheet slipped from her fingers .

He dipped his head and brushed a kiss over her mouth—slow, deep, claiming. The kind of kiss that didn’t just claim the body, but the soul beneath it.

She melted into him. Her hands rose instinctively to his shoulders, fingers curling into warm muscle.

When he pressed her back into the mattress, she didn’t resist. A soft sound escaped her before she could stop it.

But then—he pulled back.

His breath was unsteady. His eyes burned.

“We can’t,” he murmured, rough and teasing. “We have a plane to catch.”

She blinked up at him, dazed. “A plane?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Get dressed. First door down the hall. Take whatever you like.”

Before she could answer, he slid off the bed and disappeared into the shadows beyond the doorway.

---

Inside the closet, she found a soft, oversized sweatshirt and neatly folded black tights. Simple. Comfortable. Chosen for her.

She dressed quickly. The fabrics were warm and grounding against her skin.

When she returned to the bedroom, Kai was waiting near the open balcony doors. A black Bentley waited just beyond the driveway.

“Come,” he said simply, offering his hand.

---

The Bentley glided through the streets, the city falling away behind them.

Lyric shifted in her seat, sleeves pulled over her fists. Before the distance could settle between them, Kai reached over, hooked an arm around her waist, and drew her firmly against his side. His warmth chased away the morning chill—and any lingering doubt .

As the wrought-iron gates creaked open ahead, Lyric glanced back over her shoulder.

Gravemoor loomed behind them—its gothic spires and shadowed towers clawing at the morning mist.

A black silhouette against the pale sky, carved from stone and silence.

It watched her leave.

And for a moment, she wondered if some part of her would always belong to it.

She drew in a slow breath. “This place used to give me nightmares when I was a kid. We all dared each other to get close to the gates.”

Beside her, Kai smiled faintly. “It scared me too once. When I was a boy. My family owns it. I used to hate coming here… but now I find comfort in the silence.”

Her eyes widened. “You own this?”

“My family has for centuries.” His gaze stayed on the mansion, shadows slipping across his sharp features. “But I only came back for one reason.”

He turned toward her then, his eyes dark and steady.

She swallowed but didn’t ask what he meant. She already knew.

A beat of silence passed between them.

“So… the masquerade ball,” she said quietly. “Were you the one who hosted it?”

“I was.” He nodded. “It was for some of my clients. But after I saw you—” his lips curved faintly “—I took the opportunity and hoped you’d come. And I’m glad you did.”

Her pulse fluttered. She stared down at where their hands rested together, fingers laced.

“When you didn’t answer me for two days,” she whispered, “I thought you were mad. It scared me.”

Kai’s fingers tightened slightly around hers. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, his breath warm against her skin.

“I could never be mad at you,” he murmured. “But Eric…” His jaw tensed. “I was jealous. I was furious. I got back here as fast as I could from Europe.” His thumb traced a slow line ac ross the back of her hand. “And now I’m bringing you with me—so nothing like that can happen again.”

His eyes locked on hers, unblinking. “I can keep a much closer eye on you there.”

Her pulse fluttered. And the thrill that curled low in her belly was no longer fear—but anticipation.

Europe.

A flicker of panic tightened her chest. Her parents had gone to Europe just over a year ago—and never came back alive.

Romania.

She hadn’t let herself think about it in a long time, not really. That part of the world felt cursed, like some place just beyond a veil she wasn’t meant to touch.

But this wasn’t there.

She wasn’t going to the forests or the roads they’d driven. And she wasn’t running toward the past.

She was stepping into something new.

The idea of crossing oceans, of new places and new beginnings—it stirred something wild and breathless inside her.

---

When the car stopped at her house, Lyric felt none of the hesitation she had expected.

Her porch light glowed softly. Everything looked the same.

But she was different now.

Kai touched her hand. “I’ll wait.”

She nodded and stepped out into the cool morning.

---

Inside, the scent of lavender and woodsmoke embraced her.

She moved quickly, gathering what she needed:

Her mother’s locket.

Her father’s cardigan.

Her sketchbook.

A few clothes.

Her past in small, deliberate pieces .

She grabbed her phone and texted Velora:

Taking a trip. I’m safe. I’ll check in soon. Love you.

She hit send before she could overthink it.

No going back.

Not because she was running away.

Because she was choosing.

---

Kai was waiting by the Bentley, hands in his pockets, gaze unreadable.

When she reached him, he opened the door without a word.

She climbed in without looking back.

And the world she knew slipped away behind her like smoke.

As they pulled away from the curb, Kai’s hand settled possessively on her thigh.

“We have time before the flight,” he said. “Do you want coffee?”

Lyric nodded, the simple question making her breath hitch. Something about the normalcy of it—a coffee stop before leaving for Europe—made it surreal.

Thomas drove them into town. Minutes later, they stopped in front of the small coffee shop Lyric always went to.

Kai stepped out first, rounding the car to open her door. As she slid out, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, fingers flexing lightly at her hip.

As they walked toward the door—the bells above chiming softly in the breeze—someone stepped out holding a cup of coffee.

Lyric’s stomach tightened.

Eric.

His eyes found her immediately, narrowing. His casual smirk faltered as he noticed Kai’s arm around her .

Kai didn’t break stride. As they passed, he pulled Lyric even closer and deliberately bumped his shoulder into Eric’s.

Eric’s head jerked slightly from the impact. His jaw flexed. Normally, he would’ve launched into a scene—loud, defensive, ready to fight.

But not now.

One look at Kai—his sharp suit, the cold calculation in his eyes, the quiet strength in the way he carried himself—and Eric knew better.

Still, out of habit, Eric muttered, “Watch it.”

Kai didn’t even glance back. He guided Lyric smoothly inside the café, as if Eric were no more important than a gust of wind.

As the door closed behind them, Lyric leaned into him, pulse racing.

Kai lowered his mouth to her ear. “He’s not worth your thoughts anymore.”

She smiled faintly, the last threads of her old life unraveling behind her.

As they stepped back into the Bentley and the skyline rolled past, Lyric felt the weight of the past fall away—replaced by the thrill of what lay ahead.

Europe wasn’t just a destination.

It was a beginning.