Chapter 78: Sour

Today, his hair was swept back neatly, leaving only a few deliberate, framing strands near his temples. The sharp, icy contours of his face radiated an even heavier aura of pure intimidation.

Bunny’s expression darkened instantly. She truly couldn’t fathom how someone with such an extraordinarily handsome face could let words flow out of his mouth that smelled worse than an open sewer!

He and Astin were like two toxic sewage pits—if she had her way, she’d bury one on the east side, bury the other on the west side, and erect tombstones over both!

She was just about to curse him out, but then reconsidered: with a guy like this, you have to fight madness with madness.

"So what if my demands are high? I’ve been single for over twenty years—what’s wrong with sleeping with a few men?"

Even though she and Xander had only shared a kiss, Xander wasn’t like this gloomy, shameless villain who used his own nightclothes to perform indecent acts.

She crossed her arms, tilting her head up to look Cyrus dead in the eye: "What’s the matter? You want to warm my bed, too?"

Whether a Guide had bound with a Sentinel was obvious at a single glance, so Cyrus naturally knew Xander hadn’t taken advantage of Bunny while she was unconscious, nor had he used his abilities to delude her.

Xander merely pretended to be a refined gentleman, whereas Cyrus didn’t even bother pretending.

If it had been him, Bunny wouldn’t have been able to get out of bed today.

The man stood with his hands tucked in his trouser pockets, eyelids half-draped, his deep, pool-like eyes fixing a cold gaze upon her. It was less of an appraisal and more of a cold inspection—calculating whether she was saying this purely to disgust him or just to vent her frustration.

Clearly, it was the former.

Bunny knew reverse psychology wouldn’t work on Cyrus. After all, this was the same arrogant bastard who could utter insane, stubborn lines like "With a figure like yours, I’d rather take care of it myself."

How could a Sentinel as prideful as he ever lower himself to become a bed-warming tool? There was no way he’d willingly play the loyal hound for a Guide.

Bunny had already mapped out his exact reaction. He would definitely scoff: "Champagne taste on a beer budget—keep dreaming!"

And then she could gleefully snap back: "I’m sure the grapes were sour anyway."

Cyrus’s deep, razor-sharp gaze locked onto Bunny, making her scalp tingle with tension. The silent standoff felt like a high-stakes psychological chess game played on the edge of a cliff.

A fleeting few seconds dragged out as if stretching across an entire century.

Finally, a triumphant, playful smirk curled at the corner of Cyrus’s lips. "Sure."

???

He closed the distance between them step by step, his towering frame driving her completely back until her shoulders hit the wall.

"Why pick another day when today works just fine? Let’s do it right now."

His words struck like a bolt of lightning straight through Bunny’s mind. She had vastly underestimated the sheer depth of Cyrus’s absolute shamelessness.

In a dizzying blur, Cyrus swept Bunny up off her feet, bridal-style, and tossed her onto his bed without an ounce of gentleness.

How on earth had he teleported into his room within a single second?!

Bunny turned her head in utter terror. Cyrus was already unbuttoning his shirt—one button, two buttons...

The look in his eyes was like a wicked, ravenous wolf staring down a plump, helpless little lamb.

"Cyrus, this is forcing! Coercion!"

Bunny scrambled to the far side of the bed, desperate to make a run for it. But the man snared her by the ankle, dragging her straight back. In an instant, her hands were pinned together above her head, and Cyrus’s heavy frame settled over her body.

"Cyrus, you have no shame!"

Bunny began to scream, her legs thrashing frantically—an outburst that clearly drew a flash of annoyance from Cyrus.

"Don’t move."

A low, raspy, dangerous warning exposed the threadbare limits of his remaining patience.

He used the web of his hand to pinch her cheeks, making her soft face pucker into a plump, glossy pout that looked dangerously kissable.

"Didn’t Miss Bunny invite me to warm her bed herself? So why are you being shy now?"

The light softened beneath the high bridge of his nose, casting deep, dramatic shadows that played across the razor-sharp contours of his face.

With her cheeks pinched into a pout, Bunny could only mumble thickly, "Can’t you tell when someone’s rage-baiting you?! Cyrus, you absolute bastard, let go of me! Mmmph—!"

The man’s sudden, forceful kiss caused Bunny’s eyes to snap wide open in shock. Furious, she bit down on his lip with everything she had.

Her teeth were surprisingly sharp, and she held nothing back—a brutal, merciless bite aimed to draw blood.

Taking the sting of pain, Cyrus released her lips as the metallic taste of blood spread through his mouth. He casually licked away the bead of blood welling at the edge of his lip, entirely unbothered—in fact, a dark chuckle escaped him.

Bunny looked every bit like a cornered, puff-furred rabbit. And when a rabbit gets pushed too far, it really does bite back.

"Biting that hard..."

Leaning in dangerously close to her ear, he whispered a line so utterly filthy and out-of-line that Bunny’s face instantly flushed a vivid scarlet.

"Cyrus, get the hell off me!"

The man knelt firmly over her, the solid cuts of his muscles straining sharply beneath his clothes.

With deliberate, unhurried precision, he began unwinding his necktie to bind her wrists securely together. Panic surged through Bunny.

"What are you doing?!"

What was he doing? Wasn’t it obvious?

Cyrus ducked his head to press kisses along her neck, his tone dripping with shameless, teasing malice.

"Just doing what you asked for."

Desperate, Bunny tried to pull out her old trick and began to squeeze out tears.

"Crying won’t work this time."

Bunny’s tears snapped back into her eyes in a heartbeat. Seeing that he hadn’t slowed down his hands in the slightest, she dropped the act entirely, throwing all restraint to the wind to unleash a volley of curses:

"You despicable, shameless, treacherous, hypocritical, double-dealing pervert! Even if I die and turn into a ghost, I’ll never forgive you—"

Cyrus remained completely deaf to her tirade, continuing his infuriating provocation without missing a beat.

"Which position do you prefer, Miss Bunny? Lying down, sitting up, carried... I’m good with anything... Whatever satisfies you."