The Vengeful Kidnapping Drama’s Transmigrated Female Lead - Chapter 22

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“…Damn it, what the hell are all these?”

Psyche flinched and lifted her head. A gaze filled with shock swept over her entire body—her neck, collarbone, the upper part of her chest, her calves—leaving no exposed area untouched. He seemed so stunned that he couldn’t find any words.

Serdin, after hesitating for a while with his lips slightly parted, ran his hand across his mouth, his expression unreadable—whether from anger or frustration was unclear. He muttered something that sounded like a curse. Messing up his own hair in frustration, he spoke to her in a tone that was almost threatening.

“Ha, damn it… Just stay right here.”

Psyche obediently nodded and pressed her lower lip tightly. Her body felt as though it might collapse at any moment, yet a soft laugh escaped her lips. Judging from Serdin’s reaction, it seemed she had succeeded in raising his favorability toward her.

Her expression immediately hardened when she sensed someone approaching. Serdin returned, this time holding a dark navy robe. As he unfolded it in a way that made it easy to wear, he extended his hand behind her back.

“Spread your arms.”

Psyche quietly followed his instruction. His careful touch brushed against her arms. The silk robe enveloped her body gently.

“…Wear this for the time being.”

As he firmly fastened the front of the robe, he spoke, his face stiff and tense. Psyche blinked absentmindedly before lowering her head, clutching the collar tightly.

‘It smells nice.’

The robe carried his distinct, refreshing scent. The feeling of being surrounded by a medley of fruits somehow cleared her muddled mind. She intended to offer him a faint smile to express her gratitude, but her breath hitched, and her vision blurred. Taking advantage of the moment, she glanced up at him, gasping softly for air.

“……”

Serdin, who had maintained a stern expression while dressing her, suddenly looked dazed. His mouth slightly parted, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Psyche. Her cheeks were flushed with a fiery bloom, her eyes were languidly half-lidded, and her slightly parted lips released uneven breaths.

His neck slowly turned red, and soon his face and ears were flushed as well.

“…You.”

He barely managed to speak, but then he clamped his mouth shut again, dissatisfied with the rough, hoarse tone of his voice.

Serdin averted his gaze and irritably ran a hand through his hair, his fist tightening as though restraining something. After taking a deep breath, he turned back to Psyche.

Thud.

His lukewarm palm briefly touched her forehead before retreating. His expression darkened significantly. With a low, gravelly voice, as if dragging the words out, he asked,

“Can you walk?”

“I don’t kno—ah…!”

Before she could finish her words, he slid his hands beneath her back and knees, effortlessly lifting Psyche into his arms. As her body suddenly rose into the air, she curled up like a baby bird in surprise.

“I’ll take you to your room, so stay still.”

Serdin pulled her close with a firm grip, almost as if locking her in place with his strong arms. Her cheek brushed against his solid chest, built with muscle. The sound of his pounding heartbeat echoed in her ears. When Psyche fully entrusted herself to his embrace, he seemed to flinch slightly, his body trembling. Suddenly, his pace quickened.

Noticing his flustered state, Psyche deliberately clung to his clothes, burrowing deeper into his hold. Serdin froze momentarily before resuming, this time walking more slowly.

He remained silent the entire way to her room. His jaw was tense, the muscles visibly clenched, as though he was gritting his teeth. When they reached her slightly ajar door, he pushed it open with his knee and stepped inside.

Upon reaching the bed, he carefully laid Psyche down.

“…Eat properly. You know there’s no one here to take care of you if you fall sick.”

He pulled the blanket over her, tucking it up to her neck—practically burying her under it. When Psyche squirmed uncomfortably, feeling stifled, Serdin cleared his throat awkwardly and adjusted the blanket, pulling it down slightly.

“Thank you for worrying about me…”

“…Go to sleep quickly.”

Once more, his palm gently tapped Psyche’s rounded forehead. Her long lashes quivered faintly before her eyes finally closed completely.

Even after confirming she had fallen asleep, Serdin couldn’t bring himself to leave her side. His hand brushed over his mouth as his expression grew increasingly complicated.

By now, Zephyros Rosebel would have heard about what had happened to her at the hands of Rezus.

Given how much he cherished Psyche, it was possible he might decide to end this ridiculous hostage drama right here. But if he didn’t? If he chose to continue this standoff?

Serdin ground his teeth furiously. That bastard. Whether the curses were directed at Zephyros or her, he didn’t know. Muttering profanities under his breath, Serdin turned his back and left.