Chapter 72: Before The Directives [I]

"Imperial Father sent a message?" Nikolai blinked, reaching casually into his pocket and pulling out his phone. He tapped the glass screen awake. "I haven’t opened my messaging app since the last text I sent you."

He swiped through a list of unread notifications, his thumb coming to a sudden halt. "The fuck is this? What the hell is this supposed to mean?"

"Father’s directive," Mikhail said quietly, his voice dropping into a low, metallic baritone. "He has given us clearance to pursue Starlight Dawson by any means necessary. But we aren’t the only ones who received the order."

Nikolai’s brows shot up.

"Wait. What happened to staying away from her because her father is some scary entity? That was the whole reason I racked my brain trying to figure out how to get her close to us without drawing unnecessary attention."

He stared at his brother in disbelief. "Are you telling me I just wasted all that brainpower for nothing?" he demanded. "When we could’ve just gone after her openly from the start?"

Mikhail let out a short chuckle and shook his head. "No, your idea still counts," he said.

"In fact, it gives us an advantage. Thanks to you, we’re already one step ahead of everyone else. We have a legitimate reason to stay close to her every day. The others don’t."

Nikolai’s expression eased slightly.

Mikhail’s face then hardened again.

"What you should be worrying about right now is that all five clan heads have issued the exact same directive to their respective heirs and heiresses. Even Eden wasn’t left out, though his order was to assist us. What I’m getting at is that Okami and Kage have been unleashed." His eyes narrowed, watching his brother carefully.

"And you know exactly how those two can be."

Nikolai threw his head back dramatically.

"Fuck, I still can’t believe I wasted my precious brainpower on all those plans!" he let out a frustrated groan. "Do you have any idea how exhausting that was? I sacrificed precious brain cells for this shit, and now you’re telling me we had permission all along?"

"Are you even listening to anything I’m saying?" Mikhail asked flatly. "I just told you that Okami and Kage will be in on this too."

Nikolai scoffed, a dark, dangerous smirk replacing his annoyance as he leaned back into the velvet cushions.

"And does it look like I’m scared of those two? Let them come. If push comes to shove, I’ll personally rip their throats out and feed them to the rogues. I’ve been looking for an excuse to do that for a very long time anyway."

A grin tugged at the corner of Mikhail’s lips.

"I’m glad you’re no longer pining over the past."

"Oh, shut up," Nikolai shot back, rolling his eyes.

His expression gradually turned thoughtful.

"But seriously, bro... why do you think Father changed his mind so suddenly? And the clans, what exactly is their deal?" He frowned slightly. "Do you think they figured out the same thing you did? Do you think they also suspect she’s a curse breaker?"

Mikhail went quiet. The room fell into a brief silence as he considered the question, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest.

Finally, he leaned back into the sofa and let out a slow breath. "I don’t know," he admitted. "But I intend to find out." His eyes darkened. "I refuse to play a game when I don’t know all the rules."

*****

FOUR HOURS AGO

The morning sun filtered through the blinds as Irena slowly shifted under the sheets, immediately greeted by a wave of deep, heavy physical exhaustion. Her body felt completely spent, as if she had just finished an intense workout, but this stiffness went far deeper than strained muscles. It lived in the cradle of her hips, a deep, marrow-heavy soreness that pulsed when she shifted her legs beneath the rumpled sheets. Her shoulder sported a tender crescent where his teeth had marked her the night before, and the cotton against her skin felt like rough wool. Even the simple act of flexing her toes sent a bright thread of pain up the back of her thighs.

It was all thanks to the monster she had married. Half a century married to the man, and the beast still hadn’t learned moderation. If anything, it seemed like the man grew more insatiable with each passing year. Last night was no exception.

Irena let out a slow, careful breath at the memory. He had driven her like a wild stallion, taking her against the wall first, then bent over the writing desk, every corner of their room claimed before finally ending in their bed, where he had spent what felt Iike eternity driving into her until her voice gave out. Sometimes she wondered if Alexander even realized they were getting older.

Like how can one be so relentless in bed.

Is not like she’s complaining, his stamina always make her feel desired and cherished.

She tried to rise, and the sensation of him inside her made her freeze. For the love of the goddess.

Her inner walls, still swollen and sensitive, clenched involuntarily around the cock in her.

Alexander was still half-hard. Still buried to the hilt. What is she going to do with this man?

He should be exhausted after last night, not hard and buried deep inside her.

Irena turned her head slowly on the pillow.

Alexander lay beside her on his side, his body curled around hers, one heavy arm draped across her waist. The morning light painted stripes across his face, throwing his features into soft relief—the strong line of his jaw, the sweep of dark lashes against his cheek, the full lips slightly parted. He looked like an angel painted by a master. No one would believe what those lips had done to her skin mere hours ago.

"I know you’re fully awake," she said, her voice a mix of amusement and mock sternness. "Stop pretending and remove your Moses rod from me, I’m completely sore for goodness sake."