Chapter Sixty-Eight

REMI'S POV

The room is draped in muted shadows, the faint glow from the moon casting eerie patterns across the walls. I sit propped up against the headboard, my body draped in sheets that barely conceal my nakedness. The warmth from the bed is a stark contrast to the icy unease that has settled in my gut. Keiran’s presence beside me is a comforting balm, his steady breathing a reminder that I’m not entirely alone in this strange, unsettling world.

Keiran's arm is draped over me, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on my skin. I can feel the tension in him, a coiled spring ready to snap. Despite the comfort of his touch, I sense a restless energy in him, an anticipation that something is about to disrupt our fragile peace.

The door creaks open with a slow, deliberate groan, and a cold draft seeps into the room. I stiffen instinctively, my gaze snapping to the doorway as Xaden’s figure emerges from the darkness. His presence is immediately chilling, an almost tangible frost that makes the air feel sharper, colder.

Xaden steps into the room, his ice-blonde hair flowing around him like a spectral cloak. His red eyes gleam with a predatory gleam, and the smirk on his lips speaks of a cruel, mocking amusement. He surveys the scene with an air of detached disdain, his gaze lingering on the disheveled state of the bed and the tangled sheets that barely cover us.

I scramble, instinctively pulling the sheets around me for some semblance of modesty. Xaden’s gaze sweeps over me with an almost palpable disdain, his eyes narrowing with contempt.

“Well, well, well,” Xaden drawls, his voice smooth and dripping with sarcasm. “Isn’t this a delightful scene? How quaint.”

Keiran sits up, his eyes flashing with irritation. “Xaden. What are you doing here?”

Xaden’s lips curl into a smirk, revealing a flash of white teeth. “I came to see what my dear brother’s little pet is up to. And it seems I’ve arrived just in time for an early morning show.”

The contempt in his voice is unmistakable, and I can’t help but bristle at the way he looks at me. His eyes linger with a mix of disdain and cruel amusement, as if he’s examining a particularly interesting specimen.

I force myself to meet his gaze, though my heart races with unease. “What do you want, Xaden?”

His smirk widens, and he takes a deliberate step closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “I’m here on business, but I thought I’d drop by and enjoy the view. After all, it’s not every day I get to see Keiran’s personal affairs laid bare.”

Keiran’s expression hardens, his patience wearing thin. “Enough with the games. What’s this really about?”

Xaden’s smirk widens as he leans casually against the doorframe, his gaze flicking between us with an almost predatory interest. “I came to discuss a matter of some importance. But it seems I’ve arrived just in time to witness something… intriguing.”

Keiran’s eyes narrow, his expression darkening. “If you’re here to make trouble, you can leave. We’re not in the mood for your games.”

I sense the underlying threat in Xaden’s tone, the way his eyes linger on me with an unsettling mixture of disdain and curiosity. His presence is like a shadow that stretches across the room, darkening the space with its oppressive weight.

Keiran, ever the provocateur, leans back against the headboard, his fingers idly tracing my arm. “Actually, Xaden, since you’re here and so keen on watching, why don’t you join us? It might be an interesting diversion from your usual pursuits.”

The challenge in Keiran’s voice is clear, a taunt designed to provoke a reaction. Xaden’s eyes narrow, the smirk faltering slightly as he takes in the full implications of the invitation. He steps further into the room, his gaze shifting from Keiran to me with a new intensity.

For a moment, I’m caught off guard. The offer—whether genuine or a ploy—makes my heart race, and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. The idea of Xaden joining us is both thrilling and terrifying, an unfamiliar sensation that sends a shiver down my spine.

Xaden’s gaze lingers on me, his eyes glinting with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. “Join you? I’m not sure I’m in the mood for a performance from our in-house whore.”

I can feel my body going rigid, the tension in the room rising with every word. My heart pounds in my chest, and I try to steady my breathing, but the sensation of being the center of this attention is overwhelming.

Keiran, seemingly unfazed by the tension, gives a lazy stretch and smirks at Xaden. “Well, if you’re not up for it, there’s no need to linger. We’re quite comfortable without your company.”

Xaden’s gaze shifts back to Keiran, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. “You always were good at pushing boundaries, Keiran. But don’t think for a second that your little games will distract me from what I came here for.”

Keiran’s expression remains casual, but there’s a sharp edge to his tone. “And what exactly did you come here for, Xaden? Or were you simply bored and looking for blood to drink from our "in-house whore"?

Xaden’s eyes flash with something like anger, but he manages to control it, his voice taking on a colder, more dangerous edge. “I came to discuss business, not to indulge in your personal dramas. But it seems you’re determined to make everything a spectacle.”

I sense the underlying threat in his tone, the way his gaze shifts back to me with a flicker of cruel interest. It’s clear that Xaden’s presence is not just an intrusion—it’s a calculated move designed to unsettle us, to remind us of his power and control.

Keiran’s jaw tightens, and he gets out of bed, his movements sharp and deliberate. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

Xaden's cruel amusement finally lands its mark. "Out, little pet, go find another way to make yourself useful."

I huff under my breath. "At least I'm not a psycho who can hadly control his magic."

Xaden hears me, but chooses to ignore me.

And somehow that hurts even more.

As Keiran moves to follow Xaden, I catch a glimpse of his face, the mask of calm professionalism cracking just enough to reveal the storm beneath. Xaden’s presence has clearly rattled him, and the air between them is thick with unspoken tension.

Xaden pauses in the doorway, casting a final, lingering look back at me. “I’d suggest you get dressed, darling. I wouldn’t want you catching a chill.”

His words are laced with mockery, and I feel a surge of anger rising within me. I’m tempted to retort, to throw back some barbed comment of my own, but the cold, calculating look in Xaden’s eyes tells me that any attempt to engage with him on equal footing would be futile.

Instead, I nod curtly, turning my back to them as I gather my clothes from the floor. The sound of their footsteps receding down the hallway leaves me in a heavy silence, the room now feeling stark and empty in their absence.

As I dress quickly, my mind races with thoughts of Xaden’s visit. The unsettling way he looked at me, the smirk on his face—everything about him feels wrong, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike. I can’t shake the feeling that his visit is a harbinger of something worse to come, a shadow that looms over our already precarious situation.
The Midnight King
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