Chapter 219: A truce

Kaden was getting suspicious about why she wasn’t sober yet.

The cold water should have helped. Still, he had to get her out of those drenched clothes.

She was damn set on defying him.

Taking a slow, measured breath, he tried a different approach.

"Yuki, your clothes are drenched," he explained softly, as if speaking to a stubborn child. He swallowed hard, a flicker of regret passing over his face as he remembered why there weren’t any female staff here to help. The villa was run by part-time maintenance workers who left before dark; he never kept permanent staff around because he rarely stayed here.

"I said no," she repeated stubbornly, crossing her arms.

Kaden’s eyes closed, his knuckles turning white. "Forgive me," he muttered under his breath, "because I am definitely going to regret this."

He opened his eyes, dark and resolute. "You’re going to get sick if you sleep in soaked clothes," he said sharply, the memory suddenly flashing in his mind—the night after the roof incident, when she had run a burning fever and Killian had stayed by her side the entire time. A sharp, dull ache hit his chest at the thought, but he shoved it down instantly. He couldn’t afford to go soft.

"I love my wet clothes," she spat back childishly.

His eyes flashed with dangerous intent. "You forced my hand," he hissed.

In a flash, his hand shot out, grabbing her chin to hold her still. "You’re not getting sick on my watch. You just want to give Alexander another reason to get on my damn nerves, and it’s not happening, Snow." He spat the words out and spun her around before she could react.

"Let go of me! You bastard! Touch me and I’ll kill you!" she babbled, thrashing against him and throwing backward elbows, making the task as difficult as humanly possible.

Ignoring her curses, Kaden reached for the back of her dress. With one swift, practiced motion, he pulled down the zipper. He shoved the heavy, soaked shoulder straps down, immediately draping the thick bath towel over her exposed back to keep her covered.

Moving with terrifying efficiency, he stripped the ruined dress down her legs and pulled off her soaked undergarments, making sure not a single drop of damp fabric remained against her skin.

He kept his eyes locked strictly on the task, completely ignoring her protests and the barrage of weak fists landing against his arms, chest, anywhere she could hit.

Once the wet clothes were kicked aside, he wrapped the plush robe tightly around her and tied the sash firm, making sure she was completely covered. The irony wasn’t lost on him—the same girl who had kissed him breathless earlier was now screaming at him not to touch her.

"There," he growled, grabbing another dry towel and wrapping it around her soaking hair, rubbing it briskly.

Yuki glared up at him, panting, completely frustrated that despite her best efforts to fight him off, he had been entirely unstoppable. He was a relentless monster. When he finally finished, he reached out and caught both of her wrists in one hand, holding her beating fists still.

"Are you done now?" he taunted, his voice dripping with dry irony.

Yuki glared daggers into his eyes. "I want to kick you in the balls," she hissed.

Out of pure, ingrained reflex, Kaden took a sharp step back, his hand instinctively dropping to shield himself. Realizing his PTSD response, he gritted his teeth in irritation, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He hissed through his teeth. "You’re not getting another chance at that."

He yanked her out of the bathroom by the wrist. Right at the threshold, his foot bumped into one of her high heels lying abandoned on the floor—one shoe near the bed, the other tossed near the bathroom door.

Kaden kicked the heel out of the way with a sharp *clack* and marched her straight into the walk-in dressing room. It wasn’t as massive as the main closet back at the Alpha residence, but it was still lined with dark wood and expensive tailoring.

Still holding her wrist tight, his eyes scanned the shelves until he spotted an oversized white T-shirt and a pair of grey drawstring joggers. It was crucial she put them on—considering she had no underwear under the robe. He grabbed the clothes and turned to her, holding them out.

"Put these on," he instructed.

Yuki shook her head, glaring at him with pure defiance. Kaden offered a small, terrifying smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

"It’s either you put them on yourself, or I put them on you. Choose."

He could figure out a way to strip her clothes with a bathrobe on her without looking, but dressing a thrashing girl was a whole different story. They locked eyes in an intense, silent staring contest. Seconds stretched out until Yuki finally snapped, snatching the clothes from his hands.

"Fine! Don’t you dare look!" she threatened him.

He scoffed softly, turning his back on her. "Trust me, I have zero desire to look." He walked over to the entrance of the dressing room, standing with his back turned firmly toward her. "You have thirty seconds," he announced, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Don’t try anything stupid."

With his back to her, he began counting down out loud. "One... two... three..." He secretly prayed to whatever god was listening that she would just cooperate and not test the absolute limit of his patience.

"...Twenty... twenty-one—"

"I’m done!" Yuki announced loudly.

Kaden froze. Past trauma with her told him this was almost certainly a trap, but he slowly turned around anyway. The sight in front of him made his upper lip twitch involuntarily.

Luckily, she wasn’t naked. But she had managed to put the T-shirt on completely backward and inside out, the collar riding awkwardly high against her throat.

The shirt hung down like a baggy mini-dress, and the joggers were so ridiculously oversized on her frame that the cuffs completely swallowed her feet. To make matters worse, the dry towel was still wrapped lopsided on her head, and her expensive diamond necklace was still hanging over the backward T-shirt.

At least she listened.