CHAPTER 179: THE UNIVERSE IN MY ARMS

The helicopter cabin was a pocket of roaring silence. The thrum of the blades outside was a physical force, vibrating through the floor, up my legs, into my chest where my heart hammered in a frantic, competing rhythm.

Below us, the city sprawled out like a glittering wound in the darkness, but none of it mattered. None of it touched us. Here, in this suspended cage of metal and glass, the only universe that existed was the trembling, fever-hot weight of Isabella in my arms.

She was curled into me like she was trying to disappear inside my chest, her nails barely grazing my shirt as her hands fisted weakly against me. The thin fabric of my jacket did nothing to mute the heat rolling off her body—it burned straight through, crawling under my skin until it felt like my own blood was boiling. Every ragged sound that left her lips, every tremor of her body against mine, was a blade sawing through my ribs.

And underneath it all, laced through every breath I took, was her scent. Normally it grounded me, softened the jagged edges of my control. Tonight, it was poisoned. Whatever filth they’d pumped into her bloodstream had twisted it, making every breath feel like fire, like my body wanted to take and consume instead of protect. Heat, low and coiled, pulsed in my gut, but I clenched my jaw hard enough to ache, locking it down.

I tilted my head, pressing my mouth close to her ear to make sure she could hear me over the blades. "Are you alright, my love?"

Her response was a faint shake of her head, her face burrowing further into my chest as if she wanted to crawl inside me and hide from the world. I tightened my arms around her, scanning her quickly—bruises, torn silk, rope marks carved red and raw into her wrists. The sight made my vision darken at the edges. My heart was still a sledgehammer in my chest, every beat laced with fury so sharp I could taste it in the back of my throat.

I wanted to burn everything. The room I’d just walked out of. The men still breathing on its floor. The entire city if that’s what it took to erase the look on her face when I opened that door.

"Did they..." I swallowed hard, my voice raw and edged with violence I couldn’t contain. "Did they hurt you anywhere?"

She shook her head again, the movement small, fragile. Her lips brushed my neck when she whispered, "No..."

Relief hit me like a blow, making my muscles tremble. I dropped my forehead briefly to her temple, squeezing my eyes shut.

"I’m here," I murmured. "You’re safe now, love." I promised, my voice a serrated edge. I pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. The moment my lips brushed her damp hair, a fresh spike of corrupted desire jolted through me. My breath caught, my grip tightening instinctively. Disgust rolled through me—disgust at my own body’s betrayal, at the thought that after what she’d just endured, after what they’d tried to do to her, all it took was her scent and heat to twist my restraint into knots.

Her fingers twitched against my chest, clutching at my shirt like a lifeline. I slid my hand down, covering her trembling one with my palm, holding her there, keeping her anchored to me. "Look at me," I said, my voice firm but soft enough for only her to hear. "Focus on my voice. Deep breaths, princess."

It took a moment, but she obeyed. Her glassy eyes lifted to mine, wide and vulnerable, shimmering with tears that hadn’t fallen yet. I felt my chest split open under that look, every ounce of guilt and rage hollowing me out. Slowly, painfully, I guided her through it—inhale, exhale, again. Her breathing evened out, syncing with mine, and a hint of color returned to her pale cheeks.

"Good," I murmured, brushing my thumb gently along her jawline. "That’s it. You’re doing so well."

Her lips trembled, but she nodded, inching closer until her arms slid around my neck, clinging like she was afraid I’d vanish if she loosened her grip. I wrapped her fully in my arms, pulling her against me until her heart beat frantic against my chest, matching my own erratic rhythm.

And then the words were spilling out of me, ragged and uneven, because holding them in felt like suffocating.

"I’m so sorry," I breathed, voice breaking on the edges. I tightened my hold until it felt like I could fuse her into me, erase every second we’d been apart tonight. I’m never letting you out of my sight again. Never leaving you alone. I should’ve been there—should’ve known this would happen. God, Isabella, I’m so fucking sorry."

I buried my face in her hair, inhaling her scent like it was oxygen, even though every breath stoked the fire in my veins. My muscles stayed taut, my pulse refusing to settle. Images of that room kept slicing through my mind like barbed wire.

"I love you," I whispered, the words hoarse, raw, torn from the part of me I never showed anyone. "I love you so much it hurts. And tonight... I failed you. I failed us."

My voice was a ragged whisper against her temple, the words tasting like ash. Isabella shifted, a faint murmur escaping her lips, her body pliant and dangerously soft against mine. She didn’t respond with words, only pressed closer, her trembling easing slightly, a silent plea for closeness that I was all too willing to fulfill. My arms tightened, pulling her so deeply into my chest that I swore I could feel the frantic beat of her heart against my own.

"I should have stopped it...I should have known something like that would happen. I know my apologies mean nothing.... but I’m sorry for not protecting you.... I’m so sorry my love"

I buried my face in her hair, heart still racing, body still trembling from the chaos we’d left behind. I could feel every detail of her, every soft part of her against me. I inhaled her sweet scent again, trying to clear the image of those men from my mind. My voice was low as I whispered in her ear. "I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight.... I should have protected you better....I hate myself so much right now....."

My voice was raw, torn from a place deep within me that rarely saw light. I pressed her closer still, as if through sheer proximity I could absorb her pain, her fear, her terrible heat. Every shallow breath she drew was a fresh lash against my soul. I was supposed to be her shield, her fortress. I was supposed to be impenetrable, and yet, I had let this breach happen.

She squeezed my hand in silence, her quiet acknowledgment cutting deeper than any spoken forgiveness.

"It’s my fault," I choked out, the words tasting like ash and blood. "Every last bit of it. I should have known. I should have scorched this whole city to the ground before I ever left you out of my sight for a second. Every second you were in that room, every breath you were afraid to take—my fault. If I ever let you feel that again, Isabella, I’ll end myself."

The "stuff in my veins," a cold, ancient hunger that usually purred beneath my skin, was now a roiling storm. It pulsed with a volatile mix of grief, rage, and a primal, possessive need to consume anything that had dared to threaten her. It made my vision swim, the edges of the plush helicopter cabin blurring, making the scent of her, damp and sweet and terrified, even more potent.

She stirred, a small whimper, her fingers knotting into the fabric of my shirt. "Adrien..." she whispered, her voice barely audible over the thrum of the blades.

"Shh, love," I murmured, rocking her gently. My hand, still rubbing circles on her back, felt the tremor that still ran through her. Guilt was a physical weight, pressing down on my chest, stealing my breath. The image of those bastards, the way they had looked at her, the things they had intended... The rage, momentarily eclipsed by self-loathing, surged back.

No. This wasn’t about me. This was about her. And about what came next for them.

I will make them pay. Every single one of them. For every second of fear she felt, for every tear she shed, for every shiver that went through her beautiful body.

My jaw was once again locked tight. I pressed my lips to her temple, feeling the feverish heat against my skin.

Her fingers curled into my shirt, tighter. Her body, so soft and fever-warm against mine, shifted again—closer, more deliberate. A sound escaped her, low and broken, but it wasn’t a sob. It was need.

"Adrien..." she breathed, the syllables curling like smoke into the crook of my neck. Her nose brushed my skin, then her lips—barely—but it set something off in me. Something unholy. Something already unraveling.

"Princess..." I rasped, one hand gripping her waist, the other cradling the back of her head. "Stay still. You’re burning up."

But she didn’t stay still.

My hands slide down to her hips, gripping them tightly as I feel her grind against my lap.

My body went rigid. A low, guttural sound tore from my own throat—half-groan, half-curse. Damn, the way she’s moving is making it so damn hard to control myself.

Her dazed eyes lifted to mine, hunger mirrored in their glassy depths. Every part of me screamed to give in—to tear away the space between us and take what we both clearly wanted.

But not here. Not while the blades thundered overhead and another man sat six feet away in the cockpit. Not while someone else could hear the soft, broken sounds she made that belonged to me alone.

I clenched my jaw, my breath ragged against her ear. God, if we were alone—if it were just us—I’d already have her spread out on my lap, kissing her until neither of us remembered tonight.

I gripped her hips tighter, forcing my voice steady. "Buttercup... please. I’m trying to do this right."

I let out a frustrated sigh as I try to maintain my control. My body is screaming for her, every muscle tense with the effort to keep myself from ravishing her right here and now.

"Damn it. You’re making this so goddamn difficult. I want you so badly right now, it’s driving me crazy. "

I groaned, my eyes squeezing shut as I tried to block out the sweet, maddening friction of her hips against mine. She was burning up, her skin fever-hot against my touch, and I couldn’t resist the temptation of her pliant body, even as my mind screamed at me to be gentle, to give her the time and space she needed.

"Sweet lord, Isabella," I rasped, my voice a low, desperate purr. "If you keep grinding against me like that, I swear to Christ, I won’t be responsible for my actions."

Her eyes, still dazed and unfocused, flashed up to meet mine, and I could see the same primal hunger reflected back at me. It was a look that made my blood turn to molten lava that ignited a fire in my veins that threatened to consume us both.

"I know, I know," I muttered, trying to slow her movements, to regain some semblance of control over the raging beast within me. "But you’re not thinking straight, love. You’re traumatized and in shock. We can’t—"

I cut myself off with a groan as she pressed herself harder against me, her nails digging into my shoulders as she ground her hips in deliberate, provocative circles. The friction was driving me insane, the heat of her core searing through the fabric of my pants, making my cock throb with a primitive need.

"Fuck," I hissed, my jaw clenched so tight it ached.

My hands move of their own accord, sliding up her sides to cup her breasts through the torn silk of her dress. I can feel the rapid beat of her heart, the way her nipples pebble under my touch, and it’s enough to shatter what little restraint I have left.

Her lips parted—no words, just a breathless, needy gasp—and she pulled me down.

That’s it. I’m done fighting. A guttural sound tore from my chest as I dipped my head, my breath uneven, voice breaking when I rasped, "God, Isabella..."

I didn’t kiss her—I claimed her. Brutal, raw, my tongue thrusting deep as if I could erase every second she’d been away from me.

She whimpered into my mouth, a desperate, aching sound that lit me on fire. My groan cracked halfway through, rough and ragged, because even now, even like this, I couldn’t get close enough. I tangled my fingers in her hair, angling her head, devouring her lips like a starving man finally finding salvation.

And then the pilot’s voice, flat and clinical through the intercom, sliced into the charged air: "Two minutes to landing, sir. Doctor Kassel is ready with the counteragent. Orders?"