Sweet Hatred-Chapter 441: Morning Call

ARIA 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

I woke to soreness. The kind I hadn’t felt in a while.

Every muscle in my body ached in the most telling way, a reminder of just how thoroughly Kael had claimed me the night before.

Multiple times.

I shifted slightly and winced, feeling the evidence of our hours together in places I’d probably be feeling for days.

But I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.

Not when I turned my head and saw him beside me.

Kael was asleep, his face relaxed in a way I rarely got to see. The harsh lines that usually defined his features were softened. His dark hair was messy, falling across his forehead. His chest rose and fell with deep, steady breaths.

He looked peaceful.

Beautiful.

This was the man who’d fucked me into half-consciousness last night. Who’d made me come so many times I’d lost count. Who’d held me afterward like I was the most precious thing in the world.

I felt awfully happy.

Genuinely, bone-deep happy in a way I hadn’t felt in... maybe ever.

Kael and I were finally in a good place. Or at least, I desperately hoped we were.

My mind drifted to Sarah, unbidden. To all the horrible things she’d done. To the lies and manipulation and violence.

But I pushed the thoughts away.

I wouldn’t let her poison this moment.

Not when I had Kael right here, safe and mine.

As if sensing my thoughts, Kael’s arm tightened around me in his sleep, pulling me flush against his chest.

I let myself melt into his warmth, closing my eyes again.

Just a few more minutes, I told myself.

When I woke the second time, it was to the smell of food.

Pastries. Coffee. Something sweet and buttery that made my stomach growl.

The room was much brighter now, sunlight streaming through the windows.

I reached for Kael and found empty space.

Confusion clouded my mind for a moment before the memories of the night before came flooding back.

My face heated.

God, the things we’d done...

I forced myself to sit up, immediately regretting the decision as my body protested.

Everything ached. My thighs. My hips. Places I didn’t even know could be sore.

My legs felt like jelly when I finally managed to stand, wobbling slightly as I found my balance.

I grabbed the robe draped over a chair and pulled it on, tying it loosely around my waist.

Then I made my way toward the outer room, moving carefully.

I could hear Kael’s voice before I saw him, low and serious.

"...yes, I understand. The arrangements need to be finalized by tomorrow... No, I’ll handle the families personally... Just make sure everything is taken care of."

The doctor, I guessed. He was probably talking about his father.

Guilt pricked at my chest.

I peeked around the doorway, trying not to make noise.

And nearly choked on my own breath.

Kael stood by the window, his back to me, phone pressed to his ear.

He was fresh from a shower. Water still clung to his skin, beads trailing down the defined muscles of his back, disappearing into the towel hanging dangerously low on his hips.

His tattoos that I almost forgot he had stood out starkly against his damp skin, intricate patterns that I’d traced with my fingers and tongue more times than I could count.

I felt my mouth water.

Down, girl, I told myself firmly.

But I couldn’t look away.

I shifted my weight, trying to get a better view, and promptly tripped over the edge of the robe.

I caught myself on the doorframe, but the noise drew Kael’s attention immediately.

He turned, his eyes finding mine.

And that dangerous smile curved his lips.

"I’ll call you back," he said into the phone, not breaking eye contact with me.

He ended the call and set the phone down, his gaze dragging over me slowly.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked, his voice rough.

"I was just—I didn’t mean to—" I stammered.

He started walking toward me with that lazy, predatory grace that always made my knees weak.

"Last night could continue right now," he suggested, stopping just in front of me.

"Stop," I said immediately, holding up a hand. "I can’t even stand straight."

"You were the one who started it," he reminded me, clearly amused.

"That’s—that doesn’t—you—" I glared at him. "You’re impossible."

But he kept walking, and before I could protest further, he scooped me up into his arms.

I yelped, clutching at his shoulders. "Kael!"

"I’ll be more gentle next time," he promised, carrying me back toward the bed.

"Yeah, right," I muttered. "You say that every time."

He set me down carefully on the bed, his expression shifting to something more serious.

"You were on the phone with the doctor, right?" I asked. "About your father?"

Kael paused, then sighed.

"Yes," he said. "But we were discussing funeral arrangements for the other victims. The pilots. The passengers who didn’t make it."

My chest tightened. "I’m sorry."

He sat beside me, and I reached up to cup his face.

He took my hand and kissed my palm, then guided it to his hair.

Without a word, he lay down and rested his head in my lap.

I began stroking his hair gently, running my fingers through the dark strands.

"Do you miss him?" I asked quietly. "Your father?"

Kael chuckled, the sound bitter. "That’s a strange question."

"I know it is," I admitted. "But I also know you still care about him. Even if it’s just a little bit."

Kael went silent for a long moment.

When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. "Death is too easy for a man like Ewan. I want him to learn what it’s like to be human. To feel. To regret."

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just kept stroking his hair.

His phone rang again, the sound loud in the quiet room.

I reached for it, but Kael caught my wrist.

"Forget it," he said. "I just want to stay here with you."

Then he sat up, and before I could process what was happening, he was climbing onto the bed, caging me beneath him.

"You must have gotten some of your strength back by now," he said, his eyes dark with intent.

I gave him a look. "Kael, I swear—"

"What?" He leaned down, his lips brushing mine. "What are you going to do?"

"I’m going to—"

But he kissed me before I could finish, and I knew with absolute certainty that I was in trouble.

So much trouble.

And I didn’t even care.