Page 30 of Bound By Crimson

Chapter Thirty

Everything She Wanted

The estate was bigger than Lyric expected.

Not just in size, but in silence.

It stretched in every direction like it had no edges—just shadows and wood and memory.

Kai led her through the house hand-in-hand, showing her rooms with names like the conservatory, the morning parlor, and the west drawing room.

Each space was immaculate, but cold.

Like everything had been frozen in time.

Beautiful, yes—but still.

Hollow.

She tried to shake it off, but something prickled beneath her skin as they passed long corridors lined with portraits that stared too long, and halls where their footsteps didn’t echo the way they should.

There was staff—more than she expected. A maid in a crisp uniform moved silently down the hall behind them, and a butler nodded from a doorway as they passed.

In the distance, she heard kitchen noise—clattering dishes, a faint laugh, the sound of a heavy oven door closing.

It struck her then: this house was alive in its own way.

Run like a quiet machine, with roles and routines.

And yet the only person who actually lived here was Mrs. Thornwick.

Lyric wondered if she ever felt lonely, surrounded by all this motion and no real company.

“How is anyone supposed to raise a baby here?” she whispered once, more to herself than to him.

Kai caught it anyway.

He stopped, turned, and brushed a hand through her hair.

“This place takes time,” he said gently. “It’s old. It’s proud. But once it loves you—it won’t let you go.”

That made her laugh, easing the weight in her chest.

He smiled. “Come on. I saved the best for last.”

He led her outside through a back door that creaked like it hadn’t been opened in years.

The garden bloomed in every direction, wild but purposeful, like someone had once tended it with great care and then let it grow a little too free.

The air smelled different here—softer, sweeter. Not like the sharp cold of New York, but something warmer. Earthier. Even in December, South Carolina still bloomed.

In the distance, a maze of hedges rose above the flowers.

“A maze?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

He grinned. “You’ll love it.”

They stepped into the tall green corridors, leaves brushing their shoulders as they turned corners and doubled back.

Lyric laughed when Kai pretended to lose them, then darted ahead.

She chased him.

He disappeared.

She spun in circles until his hand reached out from behind a wall of ivy and pulled her in with a playful growl.

They stumbled together into the center of the maze, breathless and laughing.

The space opened into a small circular clearing—stone bench, marble birdbath, the sound of bees somewhere nearby.

It was quiet here.

Secluded.

Dreamlike .

Kai cupped her face and kissed her.

Deep.

Certain.

She melted into him, heart pounding, hands pressing against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under her palms.

The world around them blurred—sky and grass and hedges melting into something golden and still.

He kissed her again, slower this time, and when his lips brushed along her jaw, she gasped softly into the heat between them.

It felt like their world had stopped.

Kai’s hands slid down to her hips, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

He laid her down gently on the soft grass, his body moving over hers like it was something sacred, something inevitable.

Sunlight filtered through the maze walls, casting dappled patterns across his bare shoulders as he hovered above her.

Every touch was slow.

Every kiss lingered a heartbeat too long.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate.

It was reverent—like he was memorizing her.

When he entered her, she arched into him with a soft cry, her hands sliding up his back, clinging to him as if he might vanish.

Their bodies moved together slowly, rhythmically, matched to the rustle of leaves and the far-off hum of bees.

The earth cradled them.

The walls of green held them.

The sunlight crowned them.

It was like they were planting something in the center of the world—binding themselves to this place, to each other.

Becoming more than they had been before.

Afterward, they lay tangled together on the grass, her head resting against his chest, the sky above them pale blue and endless.

Kai’s hand moved to her belly, warm and steady.

“Can you picture it?” he murmured .

“Our child playing out here. Laughing. Running wild. Us chasing after them. No schedules. No stress. Just time together. Just us.”

Lyric’s chest tightened, tears stinging her eyes for reasons she couldn’t quite explain.

He turned to her, brushing her hair back from her face.

“Soon we’ll be married,” he said softly. “And we won’t have anything to worry about at all.”

She nodded, unable to speak.

Because this was everything she wanted.

A family.

A future.

Him.

And in that moment—surrounded by green walls and sunlight—she believed him.