Chapter 225 - 0225

Lorelei POV

One slipped free, spilling over his dark lashes before trailing down his blood-stained cheek. Then another followed, until tears were streaming down his face. His entire body shuddered beneath my hands as a broken sob tore from his chest.

Kaelen was crying.

The Alpha King was actually crying.

And somehow, seeing him like this hurt more than anything else could have.

"I almost killed you," he whispered, his voice dangerously hoarse and ragged with an agony so deep that it shattered my heart. "I almost killed you... I really am a monster."

"I’m fine, Kaelen. Look at me... I’m right here. I’m alive," I whispered, my own throat burning as I gently guided his head down until it rested against my shoulder.

I slowly stroked his back, keeping my movements steady as I felt the heavy tremors still running through his body. "You didn’t kill me. How could you be a monster when seeing me like this breaks you so completely? It’s okay... I’m right here."

His arms suddenly wrapped tightly around my waist, pulling me against his broad chest so forcefully that I could barely breathe. He clung to me as though I were the only thing keeping him grounded, burying his face into the crook of my neck.

"I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, Lorelei... I’m sorry..." he sobbed, repeating the words against my skin like a broken prayer.

Every time his arms tightened around me, they accidentally tugged at the tender skin around my throat, sending sharp stings of pain through my neck. I bit down on my lower lip to keep from making a sound, refusing to flinch or pull away when he clearly needed me.

The minutes dragged by before his ragged breathing finally began to settle, the violent tremors gradually easing beneath my hands.

Eventually, after some reluctance, Kaelen allowed me to lead him back toward the bed. He sat heavily on the edge, looking completely defeated as I went to grab the medical kit to clean the wound on his temple.

I carefully dabbed away the dried blood before applying a clean dressing over the cut I had caused. When I finished, he reached out hesitantly, his hand hovering for a moment before his thumb gently brushed the edge of the dark purple, hand-shaped bruise blooming across my neck.

A fresh wave of shame immediately crossed his face. His gaze dropped, and he couldn’t bring himself to look me in the eyes.

"All done," I said softly, snapping the first-aid box shut.

With that, I turned to put it away, but his hand suddenly shot out and caught my wrist. The moment his skin touched mine, he flinched violently as though he had been burned and released me just as quickly.

"I... your bruise," he stammered, his voice thick and raspy. "Let me... let me put some ointment on it..."

Just as I opened my mouth to tell him it was fine and that I could handle it myself, I stopped. I knew how deeply shaken he still was, and I could already see the guilt eating him alive. But then I caught the desperate, almost pleading look in his eyes, and I knew refusing him would only make things worse. It would only confirm the fear already written all over his face that I was now afraid of him.

So instead of arguing, I set the first-aid box back down and settled onto the mattress beside him, placing it between us.

His eyes were red and swollen from crying, and his strong hands were still trembling noticeably as he unscrewed the jar of healing gel. When he reached toward my neck, the trembling only grew worse. He looked absolutely terrified that one wrong movement, one careless touch, might hurt me again.

Slowly, I reached out and placed my palm over the back of his shaking hand, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze as I caught his gaze with a soft smile.

The contact seemed to ground him. The frantic shaking in his fingers gradually eased until all that remained was a faint quiver beneath my palm.

He dipped his fingers into the cool cream and carefully spread it across the tender skin of my throat. The moment his fingertips reached the center of the bruise, a sharp sting shot through my neck, and I winced before I could stop myself.

Kaelen immediately froze.

His face went pale as he started pulling his hand away, panic flashing through his eyes while the apology rushed out of him.

"I’m sorry..."

"It’s okay," I quickly stopped him, keeping my hand firmly over his so he couldn’t pull away completely. I gave him another gentle smile. "It just stings a little. Keep going."

I knew he needed to face this now.

If he started avoiding touching me because he was terrified of hurting me again, the physical and emotional distance between us would only grow. And if that distance kept growing, eventually, it would become something neither of us could cross.

I couldn’t let that happen.

Seeing that I wasn’t backing down, Kaelen swallowed hard and finally gave in. Even when I bit my lip to suppress a few unavoidable winces, he didn’t pull away this time. Instead, he moved with painstaking care, gently working the cooling gel over every inflamed mark on my skin.

When he finally finished, he closed the jar, set the first-aid kit aside, and rested his hands on his thighs.

Silence settled over the room, heavy and suffocating after everything that had just happened. Neither of us said anything for several seconds, and the longer it stretched, the more unbearable the tension became.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I finally whispered.

The moment the words left my mouth, Kaelen’s hands curled into tight fists against his knees, his knuckles turning white.

My heart sank.

I suddenly wondered if I had made a mistake by asking. When I had broken down over my own painful past, Kaelen had never once forced me to talk before I was ready. Maybe I should have given him that same space instead of pushing him now.

I was just about to tell him he didn’t have to say anything, that he could talk whenever he felt ready, when his low voice suddenly cut through the silence.

"I lied."

That made my brows knit together as I stared at his side profile. "What?" I breathed, barely above a whisper.

"When I told you a woman from my past did something to me..." Kaelen began, his voice hollow and strained as he stared blankly at the wall across from us. "I wasn’t completely honest."

I swallowed against the lingering soreness in my throat before giving him a slow, cautious nod. "Okay... so what’s the full truth?"

The second the question left my lips, his entire body tensed.

Every muscle across his broad shoulders locked up, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths as though he were fighting something inside his own mind. Whatever memory he was trying to drag to the surface clearly terrified him, and for a moment, I wondered if he would shut down completely.

"I..." he choked out.

More tears gathered in his amber eyes, glistening beneath the dim light of the room. His hands tightened around his knees until they began to tremble violently.

"She... she..." His voice cracked, the words refusing to come easily. Each syllable seemed to cost him something, as though he were forcing himself to carry a weight he had spent years trying to bury.

His face twisted with raw agony, and I could almost see the memory tearing him apart from the inside as a single tear slipped down his cheek.

"She was my caregiver when I was a child, after my parents abandoned me," he finally confessed, his voice breaking into a ragged, painful rasp. "And she... she raped me."