The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet (Thalassa and Elowen)
Chapter 1273

"Otherwise, I can't promise I won't do something drastic," Lysander's voice, husky and low, teased the delicate skin behind Thalassa's ear. Paralyzed by his proximity, Thalassa froze. "I'm carrying your child, for heaven's sake. Don't mess around."

"I'm aware." His voice was a dark whisper, his nose lightly grazing the tender skin of her earlobe, inhaling the subtle scent of her.

"Just sleep," he murmured, his voice so laden with emotion it seemed to drip with intensity.

The warm breath from his lips tickled the sensitive skin behind her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

She instinctively tried to shrink away, but as she did, her cheek brushed against his firm, resilient skin, igniting an itch in her heart she struggled to ignore.

Thalassa knew he was hurting because of a fire he had stoked himself.

She shrugged her shoulders, attempting to shake off the arm that held her close.

Lysander's raspy voice took on an icy edge, "If you move again, I'll really do something."

A tingle shot through Thalassa's scalp, and she ceased all movement, too afraid to provoke him further.

"Sleep," came the command from Lysander.

Did he mean to sleep while holding her?

He had traveled miles just to hold her as they slept?

Wasn't he still angry, suspicious she was out to harm him? Was that anger now quelled?

Thalassa had never been able to fully understand Lysander, nor fathom his thoughts.

She had assumed sleeping in his embrace would be impossible, yet before she knew it, she had drifted into a deep slumber. Feeling the woman in his arms relax completely, her breathing even and defenses lowered, Lysander knew Thalassa was asleep. He gently disengaged his arm, stood to switch off the bedside lamp, then lay down beside her, pulling her back into his embrace. Holding her soft body close, Lysander relaxed, his lips resting in her hair, kissing softly. The tension that had built up over several days began to dissipate. Gradually, he too fell asleep.

He had gone to the studio that day to pick her up because the kids were clamoring to see their mother.

But no sooner had he stepped inside the studio than a prop was hurled towards his head.

The prop was as heavy as an adult and sharply edged. Had it hit him, he would have been lucky to escape with his life.

The last time someone had tried to harm him was five years ago, on a helicopter.

Poisoned and brawling with the assailant, he had tumbled into an old, dilapidated barn in Hollowbrook.

Now, someone was out to get him again five years later, and it seemed to be Thalassa, manipulating the wire to nearly crush him with that prop.

Lysander had been untouchable for years, never allowing anyone even to entertain the idea of crossing him.

How dare Thalassa did that, even if it was an accident!

Yet, learning that she had come to Eldoria and that Callum was there too, his agitation grew uncontrollable.

The next morning, Thalassa stirred from her slumber, attempting to move but feeling bound as if by chains.

Her position was different from when she had gone to bed. She had been facing away from Lysander, but now she faced him directly.

She was wrapped in Lysander's arms, immovable. His embrace was like a cage.