The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate-Chapter 147: Will You Still Accept Me?

Esme’s attention drifted back to the mirror, a quiet smile gracing her lips as she watched Donovan’s hand lift to the back of his head, his fingers brushing the spot where she had tied his blindfold into a delicate bow nestled in his silver-white hair.

His fingers explored the bow with a tentative, almost childlike curiosity, his brow knitting as he failed to identify her handiwork. "What... is this?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion as his fingers lingered over the unfamiliar knot.

"It’s just a little bow," Esme replied, stepping forward to gently guide his hand away. "Try not to fiddle with it. If you keep tugging, it’ll come undone." She softened her tone, a hint of playful mischief in her words. "Besides, it suits you. You wouldn’t want to ruin your new look, would you?"

Donovan’s expression shifted, still evidently perplexed. "But... I truly don’t understand. What exactly is a bow?" His brows furrowed in earnest puzzlement, and with a slight tilt of his head, he bore an uncanny resemblance to Leonardo.

Esme struggled to reconcile this bewildered man with the one who could strike terror into others. Though he had more than enough admirers already.

"A bow is an ornament, master, something females use as adornment," Kangee interjected, its voice a low, mocking croak from its perch. "If I’m to guess, your mate intends to make a woman out of you. I knew she was a witch all along."

"Esme isn’t a witch, Kangee," Donovan exasperated, wearied by the endless task of correcting his raven’s sharp remarks about her.

Esme turned to the raven, wanting to deliver an equally sharp comeback, but suddenly decided against it, knowing all too well that Kangee would only twist her words into something it could use to taunt her later.

Instead, she fixed him with a wry look. "You seem well-acquainted with witches, Kangee. Were you perhaps with one before you joined Donovan?"

Kangee tilted its head with a glint of mischief in its eye, facing Esme. "No, that came after," it replied smoothly.

Esme’s brows shot up in surprise before narrowing. "Wait, are you serious?"

The raven cawed softly, "Well, considering you’re standing right here, what more proof do you need?"

Esme’s frown deepened, while Donovan merely shook his head, a resigned sigh slipping from his lips. If anyone else had dared to call his mate a witch, they’d likely have met a harsher fate. But then, this was Kangee, whose odd version of showing affection to Esme was by provoking her.

He knew Kangee cared for Esme just as much as he did, because it was thanks to Kangee that he knew Esme was being chased in the fortress. Not to mention, but the silly bird got injured trying to help her.

Esme simply huffed at the raven and turned away. "For that statement, you don’t get a bow," she said, returning to Donovan’s side at the dresser. He had settled comfortably at the table, propping his chin on his hand, while his other hand instinctively wandered back to the delicate bow.

"If it’s a female thing, does that mean it’s supposed to make me look... pretty?" He asked lazily, and Esme’s heart fluttered at his uncharacteristic question.

Through the mirror, she watched him with a new, unguarded appreciation, noticing how that simple bow had transformed his expression, bringing a gentleness to his face that he rarely displayed.

The question was disarmingly innocent, and it gave her another rare glimpse of the imposing, guarded man she knew.

She felt herself smile, unable to help the warmth spreading across her face. It felt ironic, because here was a powerful warrior, asking something so delightfully unguarded, that she almost forgot herself. To her, there was a strange beauty in his own uncertainty, a charm in his effort to understand something so trivial to her, yet so foreign to him. He didn’t just look pretty, he was breathtakingly real.

"You should wear bows more often," she murmured, a soft smile lingering in her voice.

Donovan’s lips curved slightly at her response, and he said, "I’ll only wear them if they’re made by you," he leaned back on the chair, while Kangee rolled his eyes from his perch with a knowing scoff.

Since the mood was light and playful, Esme felt the urge to tell Donovan about her whip, perhaps to amuse him. But before she could begin, Donovan suddenly stood up and moved toward Kangee, allowing the raven to hop onto his outstretched hand arm.

"Give us a moment," he said, the usual firmness in his voice returning, and then Kangee eyed the bow at the back of his head. "Are you really going to step out with that thing on your head?"

"What’s wrong with it?" Donovan questioned Kangee, and the bird resisted cawing into his ear. He then added, sounding unbothered. "It’s not everyday the woman I care for ties a bow for me. If she thinks it suits me, I’d wear it any day."

Catching Kangee’s subtle frustration, Esme stuck out her tongue in a playful taunt, and Kangee’s eyes narrowed into a glare as Donovan strode out of the room with a self-assured air. Left alone, she sat at the dresser, idly swinging her legs as she thought over what to do now that she was supposed to be Luna.

To be honest, she has been avoiding Northerners cause becoming their Luna wasn’t something she wanted. For now, she planned to use the role for the day she will be left with no choice but to visit the palace and see Lennox. Afterwards, she would hand the title to someone in the North who would be worthy of it.

When Donovan returned, Esme rose from her seat at the vanity as he closed the door behind him. She barely had time to speak when he went further to close the distance between them in three strides. His lips found hers before she could process his next action, capturing her breath in a kiss so sudden it sent a rush through her veins.

Her heart leapt at the unexpected engagement, and in a blink, she found herself at the edge of the table, his presence filling the space between her legs as he held her close, his kiss deep and unrestrained, like a man starved for her touch.

Her hands instinctively came to rest on his shoulders, feeling the heat of his skin beneath her fingers, while his grip tightened around her thigh, pulling her firmly against him, as if he couldn’t bear even an inch between them. She felt her pulse quicken as the kiss grew more intense.

The world around her spun until she finally broke away, breathless and dizzy. She was confused, because he seemed perfectly fine earlier.

"What are you—"

"Do you believe Lennox?" he asked abruptly, his voice low yet gouging, and as Esme struggled to regain her bearings, she blinked up at him, disoriented.

"What?"

"Do you believe him, when he said I was trying to control you?" his voice was unwavering, and Esme’s heart beat faster than ever at his pressing question.

"No," she answered softly, shaking her head. For some reason, he didn’t look too happy to hear she didn’t... or maybe she was simply assuming the worst, because what she saw was only fleeting.

Donovan took her hand, drawing it to his lips with a reverence that softened his features. "Esme... if I were to lose myself, if I became something broken beyond redemption, would you still accept me, despite what I have become?"

His words lingered in the air, a vulnerable question woven into the warmth of his breath against her fingers. Esme hesitated, but as his lips brushed her skin, she let her arms slip around his neck, pulling him close. She didn’t entirely understand why he asked her that, or what haunted him to make him ask such a question, but she knew one thing, and that was the fact that she wouldn’t be able to imagine him as anyone else.

This was the Donovan she had chosen, the only Donovan she wanted.

"If you fall beyond redemption," she murmured softly, "then I’ll fall with you. Whatever path you take, I’m not giving up on you. You’ve never given up on me, so I won’t leave you, no matter the cost."

His smile, tinged with a hint of quiet sadness and tenderness, sent a shiver down her spine. His hand reached up to loosen his blindfold, and when his eyes met hers, it was a look that she felt all the way to her bones.

"Why did you take it off?"

"You can put it back after I’m done with you," he coaxed, and without waiting, his hands slipped beneath the fabric of her dress, his fingers gliding along her bare thigh, making her pulse race.

He leaned in, his voice a low, seductive murmur as he asked, "Tell me... didn’t you miss me?"

This time, Esme chose to be the bold one, whilst she closed the distance, claiming his lips in a kiss filled with hunger of all the moments they’d missed. Donovan responded instantly, drawing her impossibly close to him as the kiss deepened.

There was not even a breath of space between them, and with effortless strength, he lifted her, carrying her from the table, his hands possessive and sure.

Esme knew one thing, and that was the fact that this man was definitely sneaking his way into her heart.