Chapter 359: The Comfort I Had Denied Her
Draven.
The drive back to the estate was quiet. Meredith didn’t say a word the entire time.
She just stared out the window, her reflection faint in the glass. She appeared calm on the surface, but I could hear her heartbeat through the hum of the car. Still fast and uneven.
I sat beside her, my hand resting loosely on my knee, fighting the urge to reach out and take hers. But I didn’t because I knew she needed space to process what had just happened.
She had killed two vampires, and she was still standing.
By the time the car pulled into the driveway, my chest was tight with something between pride and awe.
I stepped out first, rounding the car, and opened the door for her. She blinked as if coming out of a trance, then took my hand. Her fingers were cold.
Dennis and Jeffery followed behind us, speaking in low tones about the clean-up, but the rest of their conversation barely reached me. My entire focus was on Meredith.
I placed my hand at the small of her back steadily and guided her inside.
A few servants along the hallway bowed and greeted us, their voices echoing softly off the marble walls, but Meredith didn’t respond, and I didn’t blame her.
She was probably still caught in that scene in the ice cream shop, but I decided not to intrude on her thoughts.
We climbed the stairs, our footsteps falling in rhythm, until we reached the third floor. My room was quiet when I opened the door.
The air inside was still, carrying her scent and faint traces of the lavender and vanilla.
As soon as we stepped inside, I shut the door behind us.
And then, finally, I let myself do what I had wanted to do since we left that cursed ice cream shop.
I pulled her into my arms.
Her body stiffened at first, then melted against me, her head resting just beneath my chin. She didn’t cry, and I didn’t expect her to. But I could feel the tremor in her chest, the silent weight of what she had done pressing down on her.
I held her tighter.
"You did well," I murmured against her hair.
Her fingers curled into my shirt, and she breathed out, shaky and soft. I felt her heartbeat slow, just a little, syncing with mine.
In public, I had held back because showing any affection to her in that moment would have been a good thing for her image in front of the others.
To me, I thought it would point to her being weak. But here, in the privacy of our room, she was my mate, my wife, my woman, and my Queen.
And she needed the comfort I had been denying her all day.
So I gave it fully, without restraint and whispered, "You made me proud today."
A few moments later, I guided her toward the bed, keeping my arm around her as if she might break apart if I let go.
She sat at the edge, and I followed, keeping her close. For a while, she said nothing, just stared down at her hands, the same hands that had ended two lives today.
When her voice finally came, it was quiet and brittle at the edges. "This was my first time... killing anything."
Her words hung in the air between us, fragile and trembling.
"I’ve trained so much, fought, practiced—but that..." She swallowed, her gaze still fixed on her hands. "I feel guilty. I don’t even know why. They were monsters who wanted to kill me, but I still feel it."
I reached out and lifted her chin gently, forcing her to look at me. Her violet eyes shimmered with a mixture of confusion and weariness.
"Because you have a conscience," I said softly. "And that’s not something to be ashamed of."
Her brows drew together, faint lines of worry creasing her forehead.
"Meredith," I continued, brushing my thumb along her jaw, "you didn’t kill out of cruelty. You killed to survive. To protect yourself, and in a way, to protect others as well. That doesn’t make you heartless. It makes you humane."
Her throat worked as she breathed in, the guilt in her eyes dimming, replaced by thoughtfulness.
I tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "If you ever stop feeling anything after taking a life, then I will start to worry. But for now, feeling guilty means you are still you."
Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something, but all that came out was a quiet sigh. I pulled her back against my chest and held her again, letting silence wrap around us.
Minutes passed like that, as her breathing slowed, and her tension gradually eased. Then, I stood to my feet.
She looked up, looking a bit confused, but I only smiled. "Stay here," I said. "I will be back soon."
I crossed into the bathroom and turned the tap. The sound of rushing water filled the space. I poured in the soothing vanilla oil I liked, watching the scent rise like warm breath through the air.
Then, I scattered dried rose petals across the surface, along with a few drops of sandalwood essence. The smell was calming, earthy and sweet.
By the time I returned to the bedroom, the faint steam from the bath had already curled into the air behind me.
Meredith was still sitting there, her expression softer now, her shoulders slumped in exhaustion.
"The bath is ready," I told her quietly.
When she looked up at me, I added with a small, teasing smile, "And I will help you bathe."
Her eyes widened just a little, giving that familiar mix of surprise and shyness I had always loved seeing in her, but she didn’t protest. So, I extended my hand to her.
"Come," I murmured. "Let me take care of you."
And when her fingers slid into mine, I could feel that the tremor from earlier had finally faded.