THE HIGH GROUND

WHISPERS IN THE DARK

Bella pouted, throwing her arms across her chest in a tight, defensive cross as she paced the length of the grand guest room.

"How incredibly rude!" she muttered fiercely to the empty space, her heels clicking softly against the Persian rug. "A literal minute ago, this exact same man was holding me and telling me I looked beautiful, and now he’s barking orders like a drill sergeant. What an absolute hothead."

She huffed, but as she looked out the towering glass doors at the torrential sheets of rain rattling the windows, she knew she truly had no choice. The night was still long, and the storm outside showed no signs of slowing down. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and the silver-haired butler stepped in to serve her a bowl of rich, hot chicken soup. The warmth of the broth finally stopped her shivering, grounding her after the chaotic adrenaline of the evening. After eating, she slipped back down the corridor for a bit, spending a few quiet minutes playing electronic games with little William in his suite. Seeing the boy laugh and forget his illness, even for an hour, filled her heart with immense joy.

By the time she returned to her own room, the clock was creeping past midnight. Thinking of her grandmother back in their modest apartment, Bella let out a long, heavy sigh of relief. At least Susan was there. Her grandmother was safe, warm, and well taken care of by a trusted friend.

Now, however, Bella had a more immediate problem: she needed to sleep, and she couldn't do it in a tight, body-hugging bandage dress. She walked into the massive walk-in closet, searching the hangers for some comfortable, modest nightwear.

"Oh, no," she cried out in pure frustration, her hands dropping to her sides.

Every single piece of silk and satin hanging on the racks was practically half-naked and incredibly revealing—sheer negligees, lace teddies, and silk slips that offered absolutely zero coverage. Finally, tucked away near the back, she found a nightgown that was full-length. Without giving it any further thought, desperate to just be out of her formal clothes, she slipped it on.

But the moment she stepped in front of the head-to-toe mirror, her jaw dropped. It was even more fitting and dramatic than the pink dress. The black night gown was crafted from a liquid-like, ultra-premium silk that clung to her voluptuous figure like a glove. It was undeniably, shockingly sexy. While it was full-length, a daring, high split ran up the side of her leg, completely exposing the creamy, flawless skin of her thigh with every step she took. Worse, the deep, low-cut sweetheart neckline plunged dangerously low, leaving her full, rounded breasts heavily accentuated and on display.

She felt incredibly uncomfortable and exposed, but she quickly shook her head, trying to rationalize the situation. *Who is honestly going to see me at this hour anyway?* she thought to herself. *Don't be silly, Bella. Everyone is asleep. Just go to bed.*

Anxious to hide herself from the very air of the room, she climbed into the massive four-poster bed, pulling the thick, heavy white comforter all the way up to her chin, completely covering her face and body from view. Wrapped in the secure, warm cocoon, her eyes finally grew heavy, and she drifted off into a deep sleep.

Meanwhile, past the hour of midnight, Daemond King Jr. found himself completely incapable of rest.

He was still sitting in his vast office room, the soft glow of a single desk lamp illuminating the sharp, rigid angles of his face. His emerald eyes were cold, fixed on a security log. He wasn't thinking about business; instead, his mind was consumed by the terrifying image of his little brother drowning in the pool. A dark, lethal fury burned quietly in his veins as he calculated all the sorts of punishments he would carry out on his security detail tomorrow morning. They had failed him. They had failed William. When it came to his brother’s safety, Daemond was dead serious, completely unyielding, and ruthless.

With a tight jaw, he finally slammed the manila file down onto his desk. He got up from his leather chair, his restless energy driving him out of the office. He began to pace quietly through the dimly lit, silent corridors of the mansion, his bare feet making no sound against the floor.

Inevitably, his steps slowed as he approached the grand guest wing. He stopped right outside her door. To his surprise, it was left slightly ajar, a soft sliver of light from the hallway cutting into the dark room.

Daemond stood frozen in the hallway. He knew he should turn around and walk back to his own quarters, but the memory of her flush against his chest, smelling of fresh rain and innocence, pulled at him like a magnetic force. He couldn't resist going in.

Stepping silently into the room, he closed the door halfway behind him. As he approached the massive bed, a slow, dark smirk appeared on his handsome face. His stubborn little guest was sleeping soundly, completely covered in the heavy white blanket from head to toe, hiding herself away from the world like a frightened bunny.

But this heavy cotton barrier made his heart feel incredibly restless. The predatory instinct inside him demanded to see her, to ensure she was truly safe under his roof. He just wanted to take a single, quiet glimpse of her face before leaving her entirely undisturbed for the night.

Slowly, deliberately, Daemond reached out his large, tanned hand. He gripped the edge of the white comforter and pulled the blanket down to her waist.

The moment the fabric fell away, Daemond’s emerald eyes instantly stunned.

The breath was completely knocked out of his throat, his blood running hot and fast through his veins as his mind was utterly mesmerized by the mouth-watering, seductive goddess sleeping right before him. The black silk nightgown was a vision of sin against her pale, fair skin. For the very first time, her magnificent breasts were on full, unvarnished view. They were huge, round, and incredibly soft, half-revealed and spilling breathtakingly over the deep, low-cut neckline of the tight gown. The high split of the dress had ridden up, exposing the long, smooth curve of her thigh against the dark sheets.

The sight immediately set his deep-seated s****l desires completely on fire. A heavy, rigid tension throbbed in his lower abdomen, his jaw clenching as he fought a losing battle against his own biology. He felt a dangerous, primal urge to crawl onto the mattress, to bury his face in her soft skin, and completely claim her while the storm raged outside. He knew that if he stayed in this room for even a single second longer, he would completely lose the legendary control he had yet maintained around her.

Breathing heavily, Daemond forced his eyes away from her chest, resolving to pull the blanket back up and leave. But just as he leaned over her to grab the sheet, a soft, breathless sound escaped her lips.

She was whispering in her sleep.

Daemond froze, his heart leaping into his throat. Intrigued, he slowly bent his tall frame down toward her face, his ear hovering inches from her plump, parted lips to listen to her unconscious thoughts.

"Daemond..." she muttered softly in her sleep, a tiny, subconscious pout forming on her lips as she stirred against the pillow.

Hearing his own name roll off her tongue in that sweet, vulnerable whisper completely shattered the last of his composure. The lion had found his mate, and she was dreaming of him.