The Devil's Betrothed-Chapter 739: Biting

But just as her irritation flared anew, Lucian’s warm fingers began to massage her ankle with a careful, soothing touch. The heat from his hands spread through her cold skin, sending an involuntary shiver through her. Erin instinctively tried to pull her leg away, but he held it firmly, as if knowing she would resist.

She clenched her jaw, trying to endure the conflicting sensations—the anger she clung to and the comfort she didn’t want to admit she felt. Finally, she blurted out, "Stop it."

Lucian’s gaze shifted from her ankle to her face. Though her eyes were filled with anger, there was something else beneath the surface, something she wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

"You need to endure it a little longer, or you won’t be able to walk for a while," he said gently.

"I don’t need your help," she snapped, trying again to pull her foot free. "Just leave me alone."

Lucian saw the depth of her hurt reflected in her defiance. With a soft sigh, he released her foot and said, "I can’t leave you here. Either we both stay in the cold, or you let me help you onto the horse so we can head back. Once we’re at the residence, I won’t stop you from being as angry as you want."

Erin gave no reply, her silence heavy with unresolved emotions.

Lucian stood and, without hesitation, scooped her up into his arms.

"You—"

"I’m just taking you to the horse," Lucian said matter-of-factly, cutting her off.

He carried her effortlessly, ignoring any protests she might have wanted to voice. Once at the horse, he helped her into the saddle—but it wasn’t her horse. It was his.

"This isn’t my horse," Erin said angrily, her frustration clear.

"You’ve worn yours out. Look at the poor thing," Lucian replied.

Erin glanced at her horse, and guilt tugged at her. She had ridden it hard and fast for hours. Now, seeing its exhaustion, she couldn’t argue further and fell silent.

Her silence turned to shock, however, when Lucian swung onto the same horse and settled behind her.

"Why are you—"

"We only have one horse that isn’t tired," Lucian cut in smoothly, "and you can’t expect me to walk all the way back."

Erin clenched her jaw, feeling his strong frame pressed against her back. Even through their layers of winter clothing, the closeness felt unexpectedly intimate.

His long legs framed hers, and his arms encircled her, hands securely gripping the reins over hers.

This will be over soon, she told herself, taking a deep breath. "Let go of the reins. I can ride."

Lucian complied, releasing the reins into her hands, which eased her sense of feeling trapped.

Erin guided the horse back toward the estate while Lucian led her tired horse alongside them, holding its reins with one hand.

They rode at a steady, relaxed pace to avoid overexerting the weary animal.

Lucian found it oddly endearing, sitting behind Erin as she rode. It was a first for him—being the passenger—and he couldn’t help but find the situation amusing.

He could tell she was an excellent rider, handling the horse with natural ease. For a noblewoman to excel at more than just the etiquette and refinement expected of her was rare. Erin was different—brave, smart, and confident. She had a keen understanding of the outside world and its dangers, was skilled in swordsmanship, and rode with the precision of someone well-trained.

And, at the same time, she was breathtakingly beautiful.

Lucian realized now, more than ever, that she embodied everything he could ever desire in a woman. No wonder he had been so drawn to her.

He could not help but think what more he was yet to know about her.

"You ride really well," Lucian remarked softly, his voice close to her scarf-covered ear.

Erin tensed, a shiver running down her spine, though she told herself it was from the cold. She didn’t respond, stubbornly maintaining her silence.

A small smile played on Lucian’s lips. He knew her anger wouldn’t dissipate quickly, but that didn’t bother him. He was prepared to do whatever it took for her to accept him—no matter how long it might take.

When they returned to the residence, Lucian helped Erin off the horse and, without hesitation, scooped her into his arms.

"Put me down!" she protested, struggling against him.

"If you try to walk up the stairs now, your injury will only get worse. Then I’d have to carry you around for a few more days. I doubt you’d enjoy that," Lucian quipped, continuing toward the entrance without slowing his pace.

Servants nearby paused in surprise, watching the scene unfold, but Lucian calmly gave instructions. "Bring a pot of hot water for her feet."

"Lucian, this part of the residence is off-limits to men," Erin hissed angrily.

"It’s when the lady of this residence is here, but Nathaniel has none," he replied, continuing to carry her, "As for you, it’s only right for me to enter here when the lady is you."

Erin scowled, refusing to let his words sink in. Her anger was too fierce. "You stubborn fool! Aaron won’t like it if he sees me in another man’s arms. Do you want to ruin my engagement with him?"

Lucian’s voice was steady and unwavering. "Aaron knows I am not ’just another man.’ And as for your engagement—you’re not marrying him."

Erin’s frustration boiled over. Unable to escape his hold, she acted on impulse. She yanked his coat aside and bit down on his shoulder—hard. freeωebnovēl.c૦m

She could feel her teeth sink through the fabric of his clothes and into his skin, certain that she had drawn blood. But to her disbelief, Lucian didn’t even flinch, carrying her as if nothing had happened.

He reached her room and paused, glancing down at her, still locked onto his shoulder. "Are you done?" he asked with maddening calm.

Erin scowled, frustrated by his lack of any pained reaction. "You thick-skinned animal," she muttered, releasing him at last.

Lucian remained unfazed. Gently, he set her down on the couch so she could sit comfortably. He didn’t even glance at his wounded shoulder, ignoring the trickle of blood beneath his clothes.