Chapter 394: Chapter 394: Kian, stop—please—
This Chapter contains mature themes, sexual tension, and scenes depicting physical struggle and emotional distress. Reader discretion is advised.
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Kian’s mouth devoured hers like he’d been starving for too long. His kiss wasn’t patient anymore; it was all teeth and breath and need. He pressed her deeper into the bed, his weight a solid heat above her, every movement rougher than the last.
His hands slid over her hips, her waist, up her sides — no longer tracing, but gripping. His fingertips dug into her skin, hard enough to make her gasp. The sound that tore from his throat wasn’t human anymore; it was low, ragged, a growl buried under his breath.
Isabella barely noticed at first. She was dizzy from him, from the rhythm of his body moving against hers, from the sound of his breath rasping against her ear.
But then something shifted — a subtle wrongness that prickled across her skin. His pulse against her chest felt too fast, too heavy. The air between them crackled with heat, not warmth but something electric, unnatural.
"Kian..." she whispered.
He didn’t answer. His jaw tightened against her neck; his breath came out in sharp, almost feral gasps. When she finally forced herself to look at him, her heart lurched.
His eyes — normally that calm, piercing blue she knew so well — were burning brighter now, a blinding, electric shade that almost hurt to look at. The pupils had thinned to slits, swallowed by light that seemed to pulse from somewhere deep inside him.
And the birthmarks across his chest, the ones that looked like they were just tattoos, began to flare with the same unearthly light. The patterns crawled down his arms, glowing through his skin in jagged lines that pulsed with each breath.
"Kian?" she said again, voice trembling this time.
He didn’t seem to hear her. His breathing turned harsh, animal, like something was clawing its way up from beneath his ribs. The sound that escaped him was half-growl, half-breath, and it sent every hair on her body rising.
She tried to push at his shoulders, small desperate shoves that barely moved him. "Kian, stop—please—"
But he was gone somewhere she couldn’t reach. His gaze flicked toward her, wild and unfocused, the glow in his eyes bright enough to reflect in hers. For one heartbeat she thought she saw recognition — and then it vanished under a snarl.
He moved again, too quick, his hand catching her wrist before she could pull away. Heat rolled off his skin, searing through her veins. She twisted beneath him, panic sharp in her chest.
"Kian!"
The sound of her voice — her fear — cut through the room like a crack of lightning.
And then, the curtain at the far end of the chamber ripped aside.
A blur of motion. The sound of something hissing.
Cyrus stepped into the room, the calm she always saw in him gone. His eyes flashed with alarm, his tail already transforming, scales spreading up his spine as the sleek curve of a serpent coiled behind him.
"Kian!" he barked, his voice carrying a power that snapped through the air.
Kian’s head jerked toward the sound, lips curling back in a snarl. His eyes blazed brighter, his chest heaving as he turned on Cyrus, the glow in his markings pulsing with every heavy, beastlike breath.
For a moment, no one moved. The room was silent except for the sound of Kian’s ragged breathing — too rough, too loud, too inhuman.
The air felt alive, trembling with whatever was burning inside him.
And then Kian’s breath came out in a guttural gasp that barely sounded human at all.
The next moment happened too fast for her to process.
Cyrus moved first. His tail snapped through the air with a hiss, the serpent form coiling around Kian’s torso before she could even draw a breath. The force of it ripped him off her, dragging him backward in one clean, brutal motion.
Isabella gasped, her body jerking upright. The cold air hit her bare skin, and she scrambled to pull her dress down, hands trembling as she tried to cover herself. Her chest heaved with every breath, shock still flickering in her wide eyes.
"Cyrus—" her voice cracked, but he wasn’t listening.
The muscles in his tail flexed, tightening around Kian with frightening strength. The sound it made was awful — a low, crushing creak like bone threatening to give.
"Cyrus, stop!" she screamed, lurching forward, one arm still clutching her torn dress. "You’ll kill him!"
But Cyrus didn’t seem to hear. His face was set in a snarl she had never seen before. His eyes, usually warm and steady, now glowed a bright, metallic pink, alive with fury. Every trace of his usual calm was gone — replaced by something protective, feral, and on the verge of losing control.
Kian’s hands shot up, gripping at the coils locked around him. He was still in his human form, his bare chest slick with sweat and streaked with faint blue light from the markings that still pulsed faintly along his skin. His teeth were bared, a sound half human, half beast scraping from his throat.
Then, with a sharp movement, Cyrus flung him aside.
Kian hit the floor with a sickening crack, the impact hard enough to rattle the walls and make the air itself shudder. The sound of it was sharp—bone meeting stone—and for a heartbeat, everything went still. No one moved.
Isabella’s hand clamped over her mouth. Her heart pounded so hard she could barely hear anything else, drowning out the world.
Cyrus’s chest rose and fell, the faint shimmer of scales still flickering along his arms as his tail coiled and uncoiled behind him, restless.
Kian pushed himself up slowly, the glow fading from his body, his breathing ragged but steadying. His eyes — still that blinding, stormy blue — found Cyrus first, then shifted to Isabella. Something in them had changed. The wildness was retreating, but the guilt that replaced it was no less sharp.
The three of them froze there — breathing hard, watching, waiting — caught in the wreckage of what had just almost happened.