In that moment, Eva finally saw the truth, Adrian Iverson was far from the kind man he pretended to be. His eyes, once soft with feigned affection, now burned with wounded pride. The mask of gentleness cracked, revealing something far uglier beneath: rage, the sense of entitlement, the kind of anger born not from love but from ownership.
He hadn't seen her as someone he wanted to tenderly care for, but rather something he wanted to own.
The realization struck her like a blow. All those uneasy feelings she had ignored, the strange pull in her stomach, the way his kindness always seemed too deliberate, it all finally clicked into place. The shiver that went through her bones made her blood turn cold.
She struggled to free herself from his deadly grip, but his fingers only tightened, bruising her skin until she could almost hear the faint crack of strain in her wrist.
Although a Seraph was known to be beautiful, their strength were deadly. One Seraph could easily take care of ten large figured humans after all, and now she was left with Iverson, alone, in a place where even if she let out her death cry, no one would ever hear of it.
"Sir Iverson!" she cried, her voice trembling. "Please— for the love of—"
"That rumor was true after all!" he spat, cutting her off.
Eva blinked, her lashes fluttering not from pain, but shock. "What rumor?" she demanded, her voice shaking. Was it those rumors? The one spread by those ladies? The one that spoke about her switching partner?
A sense of anger took over her, feeling accused when she hadn't done nothing, feeling exhausted by the constant accusation everyone said to her when she had never once even thought of it. "You say you care for me, yet you believe the whispers before my words?"
Adrian's eyes narrowed, his expression twisting into something cruel— something unhappy to be questioned. He looked at her as one might look at a cornered bird, deciding whether to crush or cage it.
Even in front of her hurt expression, Adrian was still enraged in disbelif.
"That you went to Valentine Castle," he said coldly. "Your sister told me. And now everyone knows."
For a moment, all sound seemed to drain from the meadow.
Eva's breath caught, her frown deepening as she finally tore her wrist from his hold. She gasped when she saw the dark bruise blooming beneath her skin— purple and full of rage.
"Serena," she whispered, disbelief hollowing her tone.
How could Serena have known? She had told no one— she had been careful and that time no one had seen her enter the carriage. Unless...
Unless Serena had followed her.
Perhaps she had seen Lord Hades's carriage. Perhaps she had been waiting all along for a moment to ruin her. No wonder she had worn that smug grin at breakfast.
Eva's heart twisted with betrayal, but when she lifted her gaze again, there was steel in her voice.
"I went there to work," she said firmly. "Do you truly think a man like Lord Valentine would look twice at someone like me? This is why I refused you, Sir Iverson. I know my place. I will not be used— by you or anyone else. I've seen how noblemen treat women like me: praised for a season, discarded the next. I will not become another of your conquests."
Adrian's jaw tightened, but for the first time, uncertainty flickered in his eyes.
Eva glanced down at her bruised wrist, the skin swollen and tender beneath her touch. A tremor ran through her as she realized just how close she had into believing that he was a kind man. In truth he was far from it, perhaps the most dangerous man she had ever come close to.
And in that same instant, Adrian seemed to realize it too. His grip loosened in memory, his eyes widening in horror at what he had done.
"Eva, I— I didn't mean—"
But she only looked at him with quiet, unwavering disappointment— the kind that needed no words.
The kind that said: You've shown me who you truly are.
"I'm going home now, d- don't follow me," She quickly pulled the book first to her chest and then her basket, running away as soon as possible, even fearing to look back as if she was chased by a hungry ghost.
Left alone in the meadow, Adrian struck the lemon tree with a sharp, cracking sound that sent a shower of leaves fluttering to the ground.
"Damn it!" he hissed, his voice breaking into a guttural growl as he struck again. Once. Twice. Until his knuckles burned and a dull throb spread through his hand. He bit the inside of his cheek hard enough that blood welled between his teeth, a thin scarlet thread slipping down the corner of his mouth.
"Fuck! FUCK IT!"
He kicked the tree again, his breath ragged. His once composed hair hung in wild strands over his face, and his wings, those pristine, white wings, shuddered and hissed, the feathers rippling as though alive, as though sharing in his fury.
Hadn't he done everything right? Played the perfect gentleman? Smiled when he wanted to sneer, bowed when he wanted to break? He had given her kindness, patience— him, stooping low enough to charm a lowborn girl who should have been grateful just to be noticed.
And yet she had dared to reject him.
He laughed bitterly, a sound closer to a snarl. "A fool," he muttered, pacing beneath the lemon branches. "A foolish, simple creature... thinking she could turn me away."
But it wasn't only her rejection that burned— it was why.
Serena's smug words from that morning rang in his head, like a knife twisting deeper."She looked radiant, you know," she had said sweetly. "A new dress, a gift from Lord Valentine himself."
Hades Valentine.
Even saying the name in his thoughts filled Adrian with a raw, jealous ache. A man untouchable, powerful, the kind of being who could be counted even higher than the royal blood without lifting a finger.
The thought that his prey—the little human he'd toyed with so carefully—might have caught the eye of that man was unbearable.
His nails dug into his palms until blood dotted his skin. The scent of it mingled with the sharp sweetness of lemons in the air.
He had gone to the meadow to confirm it, to see for himself whether the rumor was true.
Whether Evangeline had truly chosen another— whether she had chosen him.
And now that he had seen the fear and disgust in her eyes, there was no doubt left.
She had made up her mind, made up that no matter what happened, she wasn't going to be with him. He regret his action but that doesn't stop him. It doesn't mean that he was going to simply give up.
Adrian wasn't going to allow this to happen.
He wasn't about to allow another Seraph to steal the prey he had chosen when no one had saw her shine before.
He rushed toward the carriage not too far from the meadow, ripping apart his white vest as he walked inside and before he entered he casted a sharp glare at his coachman, an order dripping of vice slipped from his mouth almost instantly, "Prepare that item from the blackmarket."
The coachman's eyes trembled almost immediately, "Pardon me, young master that item is extremely danger-"
"I don't care! It's not the time to pick and choose a method. Bring it to me and when the Ball take place I'm going to have her feed on it. With it she will be bound to me forever, even if it is against her wish!" Adrian then stomped his feet to the carriage, closing the door with a slam.
He smiled wistfully as he looked at the chair in front of him, thinking of Arabella who would soon be begging on her knees, begging for him, riling him into a point of arousal.
How could he not? The prey he had taken care so carefully will soon be his after all.
Looking at his hand that had gripped Evangeline to the point of bruising, Adrian couldn't hold himself back before licking his fingers. He didn't know that seeing tears on Evangeline's face would be that delectable, a sight worth for all the money he was going to spend on the blackmarket item, the very one that would bound Arabella to him, turning her to a love doll just for him...