Aiden’s POV
I sat up in bed, my breaths uneven, my chest rising and falling as I tried to steady myself. My hands still trembled, clenched into fists against the sheets as the remnants of the vision clung to like a phantom grip.
I looked down at Alexia, sleeping peacefully beside . Her long lashes rested against her cheeks, her lips slightly parted, the slow rhythm of her breathing unbothered by the hell I had just lived through in my mind.
I ran a hand through my hair, my body tense with the need to do sothing—to move, to fight, to rage.
What the fuck was that?
It felt real. Too real. The scent of burning torches, the raw sting of the lashes on my back, the hatred that had burned inside —like a fire that had never truly gone out.
And Alexia...
A part of wanted to grab her, to wake her up and demand answers. Did she know? Had she seen it too?
But no. She was asleep, untouched by whatever nightmare had taken hold of .
I let out a bitter breath.
Could it really have been a past life?
The thought sent a chill down my spine.
I glanced down at my hands, flexing them. The sensation of the won’s skin beneath my touch—won I hadn’t wanted but had been forced to take—still lingered like a curse. My stomach churned with a sickness I couldn’t explain.
And Mira...
I clenched my jaw, rembering her tear-streaked face, her muffled sobs as she watched be used like a pawn in Alexia’s twisted ga. I had loved her. I knew I had. But that love had been broken, shattered under the weight of cruelty.
And I had sworn—sworn to destroy Alexia.
I looked at the woman beside now, her face serene in the moonlight.
She wasn’t that princess. Not in this life.
Or was she?
Was there still darkness inside her? Was she still that sa cold, ruthless ruler that had ruined once before?
I didn’t know.
But one thing was certain—I needed to keep my guard up.
This thing between us, whatever it was, was dangerous.
Because if history was repeating itself...
Then one of us was dood to destroy the other.
I let out a sharp breath, shaking my head as I ran a hand down my face. That was just a dream. A fucked-up, twisted dream.
There was no such thing as reincarnation. No past lives. No cruel princess.
Alexia? A princess? That was the most ridiculous part of it all.
She cursed too much, ate like she was in a food competition, and had absolutely no grace when it ca to anything remotely elegant. A princess wouldn’t argue over the last slice of pizza or fall asleep drooling on my shoulder.
And ? A slave?
I scoffed.
Maybe I had been working too hard. Or maybe it was all the stress of dealing with Alexia, with us, with whatever the hell was happening between us.
Yeah. That had to be it.
I glanced down at her, still fast asleep, her hair sprawled across the pillow. She looked... peaceful. Nothing like the woman in my dream—the one who had stood over with cold, rciless eyes.
Alexia could be stubborn, infuriating, and reckless, but cruel?
No.
I shook my head again, trying to push the images away.
It didn’t an anything.
It was just a dream. Nothing more. Nothing less.
It was just my brain playing tricks on .
That’s all this was.
Maybe because I used to hate Alexia. Or at least, I thought I did.
But now... now I didn’t know what the hell I was feeling.
It wasn’t hate. That much was certain.
Hate didn’t make my chest tighten every ti I saw her smile. Hate didn’t make my hands itch to touch her when she was near. Hate didn’t make stay up at night, just watching her breathe beside , wondering what the fuck was happening to .
If it wasn’t hate, then what was it?
I wasn’t ready to na it.
Didn’t want to na it.
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply.
That damn dream was still lingering in the back of my mind. The pain, the humiliation, the anger—it had felt real. Like I had actually lived it. Like my body rembered the ache of every whip, every forced mont.
But that was impossible.
Alexia stirred beside , shifting in her sleep, her face burying deeper into the pillow. She let out a soft sigh, her lips parting slightly.
And just like that, the tension in my chest eased.
This was Alexia. My Alexia.
Not so cruel princess from another life. Not so heartless tyrant.
Just the woman who drove insane every single day.
The woman who had sohow beco mine.
I shook my head, scoffing at myself.
I needed to stop overthinking.
This was just exhaustion.
Just my fucked-up brain playing tricks on .
And that’s all it would ever be.
And with that, I tried to drive my thoughts away from that awful nightmare. Away from the twisted visions of a past that couldn’t possibly be real.
Instead, I focused on the woman beside .
Alexia.
Her bare body was pressed against mine, her warmth seeping into my skin, grounding in the present. My arm was draped over her waist, fingers tracing lazy patterns along the curve of her hip. The smoothness of her skin was almost hypnotic.
I let my gaze roam over her, drinking her in—the way the soft glow of the moon highlighted every dip and curve of her body, the steady rise and fall of her chest, the faint remnants of our passion still evident on her skin.
My throat went dry as mories of what we had done just hours ago ca rushing back.
How she had clung to , nails raking down my back as she scread my na. How fucking tight she was around , squeezing so perfectly it had nearly driven insane. How her body had trembled beneath , surrendering to pleasure over and over again.
I swallowed hard, feeling the stir of arousal pulse through despite the exhaustion weighing down my limbs.
I shouldn’t want her again. Not yet.
But fuck, I did.
Sothing about her did this to —made reckless, made forget every logical thought in my head.
I wasn’t supposed to feel this way.
We had agreed—no emotions. No strings attached.
Just physical release.
But as I stared at her, my fingers brushing the stray strands of hair from her face, I knew I was lying to myself.
I was already in too deep.
And I had no fucking idea what to do about it.
On a normal day, I would’ve just gotten up, gone to the bathroom, and taken care of it myself.
But this wasn’t a normal day.
She was here. Naked. In my bed. And she had agreed to this arrangent—agreed that we could be intimate without strings.
I wasn’t about to waste that opportunity, not when there was always the chance she’d wake up and change her mind.
My fingers ghosted down the curve of her waist, tracing the outline of her body, morizing every inch of her. She was still asleep, her breathing soft and even, her lips slightly parted. My eyes lingered there, rembering the way she had moaned against my mouth, the way she had begged for more.
Fuck.
I was already hard again, aching for her.
Carefully, I shifted closer, pressing against her warmth. My hand slid lower, trailing over the dip of her stomach, teasing the edge of the sheets that barely covered her.
Would she wake up if I touched her?
Would she stop ?
Or would she lt into the way she had just hours ago?
Well, there’s one way to find out.
My fingers trailed lower, dipping beneath the sheet, feeling the warmth of her bare skin. She stirred slightly, a soft sigh escaping her lips, but she didn’t wake.
Emboldened, I let my hand glide between her thighs, parting them just enough to give access. My fingers traced her inner thigh, moving higher, teasing, testing.
Still, she didn’t wake—at least, not fully. But her body responded.
A shiver ran through her, her breath hitching slightly, and when I pressed the pad of my finger against her, I found her already warm and soft.
Fuck.
I leaned in, my lips brushing against her bare shoulder as I tested the waters further, circling my fingers slowly, coaxing her body to wake before her mind even caught up.
She let out a tiny moan, her hips shifting instinctively toward my touch, and I smirked against her skin.
"Alexia," I murmured, my voice rough, husky with need.
She made a small sound in response, half-asleep but aware enough to react to .
"Wake up, sweetheart," I whispered, pressing a kiss just beneath her ear before sliding a finger inside her, slow and deliberate.
Her eyes fluttered open, hazy and dazed, confusion flashing across her face for only a mont before pleasure took over.
"Aiden..." she breathed, her voice laced with sleep and sothing else—sothing needy.
I smirked. "Hey."
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