Transmigrated Into The True Heiress-Chapter 91: Other Him

What is–" She turned to yell at him, but he wasn’t standing before her anymore. Alarmed, Eira scanned the room and found him across the space, towering over Matteo with a murderous expression.

Shit.

Eira hurried toward them, her heart pounding. Just as she reached Lyle, he grabbed Matteo by the collar and dragged him forward effortlessly, Matteo’s feet skimming the floor.

She stopped at Lyle’s side and placed a steadying hand on his arm. "Lyle, stop. You’ve done enough." Her voice was calm, but the tension in her posture betrayed her unease.

Matteo stood frozen, his gray eyes wide, the crack in his usually composed facade unmistakable. Behind them, Jania rushed in, her expression tight with worry. "Master Aelion!" she called, but her voice was drowned out by Eira’s yells.

"Lyle, Lyle? Are you listening? Lyle, stop. You need to stop, they didn’t fucking hurt me!"

"Lyle? Lyle, answer me!"

Lyle’s violet eyes bore into Matteo, his jaw tightening as if considering whether to ignore Eira entirely. His hand twitched, a dangerous glint flashing in his gaze.

"Lyle." Eira’s tone sharpened, her fingers pressing harder against him. "Look at me."

He remained unmoving, his body a wall of unyielding tension. freёnovelkiss.com

Frustrated, Eira placed both hands on his face and forcibly turned his head to meet her gaze. "I said look at me, dammit!"

His glowing violet eyes flickered, meeting hers at last. The fury blazing within them softened slightly, but a storm still brewed beneath the surface.

"Lyle, I’m fine. I’m not hurt. They weren’t going to hurt me."

"You’re fine," he repeated, his tone detached, as though trying to convince himself. His grip on Matteo loosened slightly but didn’t release entirely. "But they crashed your car. They touched you."

Eira sighed, her voice firm but calming. "And they’ll regret it, but I’ll decide how they pay for it. Not you."

Lyle hesitated, his brow furrowing as if weighing her words.

"Besides," she added with a touch of exasperation, "they’re your men."

Eira exhaled in relief when his grip loosened entirely, and she stepped between him and Matteo, blocking his view. She pressed a hand to Lyle’s chest, grounding him.

"You can’t just kill people for touching me. That’s not how this works."

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. "They crossed the line."

"Maybe," Eira admitted, her voice softening, "but I’m not a helpless little thing that needs you to fight all my battles. I can handle myself."

Lyle’s intense gaze searched her face, his shoulders finally easing. He sighed, brushing a hand lightly against her cheek. "You’re mine to protect," he muttered, almost to himself.

Eira met his gaze unflinchingly. "And I’m not going anywhere. But you have to trust me to take care of things my way. Deal?"

After a long pause, he nodded. "Deal."

Turning to Matteo, Eira’s tone turned icy. "And you—you’re lucky I don’t let him finish what he started. Next time, try having a conversation instead of pulling this stunt."

Matteo nodded quickly, his arrogance gone, replaced by wary respect.

Eira turned back to Lyle, her brow furrowing. "Now let’s get out of here before you decide to redecorate the building with more bodies."

Lyle glanced at Jania. "Take care of this," he ordered coldly before placing a hand on Eira’s back and guiding her toward the exit. "As you wish, Ephyra." His voice was low, the way he said her name sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.

She stopped abruptly when she noticed where he was leading her. The edge of the collapsed wall. "The door’s that way. Why are we–"

Her words were cut off as he bent down, scooped her into his arms, and strode toward the edge of the ruined building.

"Hey! What the fuck are you doing?!" she yelled, her arms flailing as he approached the edge.

Lyle didn’t answer, stepping off the ledge and plunging into open air.

Eira screamed, the wind roaring past them as they plummeted. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. "Lyle, are you insane?!"

His expression remained calm, almost amused. "Relax. I’ve got you."

The ground approached with terrifying speed, and just as panic set in, Lyle landed with effortless grace. The shockwave from his impact cracked the pavement, but he stood steady, holding her as though the fall had been nothing.

Eira trembled in his arms, her breath coming in quick bursts. "You could’ve warned me!" she snapped, glaring up at him.

Lyle didn’t respond. He carried her toward a waiting car, ignoring the bows of the guards. When the door was opened, he slid inside with her still in his arms.

As the car started, Lyle finally released her legs but wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. Eira opened her mouth to complain, but her words died when he buried his face in her neck.

She froze, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her. His voice, low and almost broken, murmured one word over and over. "Mine. Mine. Mine."

Eira sighed, her irritation melting into reluctant understanding. This wasn’t the rational Lyle she was used to—it was the other part of him.

Bringing her hand up, she gently threaded her fingers through his hair, stroking softly. His tense body relaxed against hers as she repeated the motion.

Resting her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes, letting the moment pass in silence.

Meanwhile, Jania rounded on Matteo the moment Lyle disappeared. Her voice was a storm of anger and frustration.

"I hope you’re happy," she snapped. "Congratulations on doing the first thing that almost got yourself killed by Master Aelion."

Matteo swallowed hard, his face pale.

"I knew you were investigating Ephyra," Jania continued, her tone sharp, "but I thought—hoped—you’d have enough sense to keep it discreet and not do anything stupid. Clearly, I was wrong."

She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a condescending whisper. "You’d better have learned everything you wanted because here’s one more thing you need to know: Master Aelion is going to marry Ephyra Allen."

Gasps and murmurs erupted around the room. Jania silenced them with a withering glare.

"Shut up!" she barked. "Ephyra will soon become his wife, which means she’ll outrank all of you—including me. From now on, you’ll show her the same respect you give Master Aelion. Is that clear?"

Her gaze landed on Matteo. "Do you understand me? This should never happen again."

Without waiting for his response, Jania spun on her heel and marched to the door. "Pass this information along to the others," she ordered before leaving the room in tense silence.

When they arrived at the mansion, Lyle still carried Eira in his arms, despite her protesting at least a hundred times.

"Put me down, Lyle. I’m perfectly capable of walking!" she snapped, squirming in his grasp.

He didn’t even flinch, his hold firm and unyielding. "You’ve been through enough today. Rest."

Eira groaned in frustration but gave up the fight, too exhausted to argue further. Lyle carried her straight to the room she usually slept in and finally set her down gently on the edge of the bed. Just as she thought she was finally free of his overbearing concern, he took her hand and began leading her toward the bathroom.

"Lyle, why the hell are you dragging me to the bathroom? Let go!" she exclaimed, tugging her hand back, but his grip remained firm.

"You need to bathe," he replied calmly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Eira froze, staring at him as though he’d lost his mind. "What?! Why? What kind of logic is that?"

"Your scent," he said, his violet eyes narrowing slightly. "It’s mixed with others. I don’t like it. It’s... unpleasant."

Her jaw dropped. "Unpleasant? Are you serious? Even if I did need a bath, are you planning to bathe me yourself?"

"If that’s what you want," he said without hesitation, his expression completely neutral.

Eira gaped at him, at a loss for words. "For the love of—stop saying insane things like that! I don’t want you to bathe me! I’ll take care of it myself, okay?"

"Then go in," he said, stepping aside as though his job were done. "I’ll tell the maids to bring a dress."

She glared at him, her patience wearing thin. "Fine. Thank you. Now leave."

But instead of leaving, Lyle stood rooted in place, his intense gaze locked on her.

"Are you seriously just going to stand there?" she snapped, throwing up her hands. "You don’t plan on staying while I bathe, do you? And didn’t you say you’d send for clothes?"

Lyle blinked, as though her outburst reminded him of the task at hand. "I’ll take my leave now," he said and turned to go.

Once the door shut behind him, Eira let out a long, exasperated sigh before stepping into the bathroom. She turned the water on and leaned against the counter, letting her nerves settle before finally getting into the shower.

Fifteen minutes later, she emerged freshly cleaned and dressed, though not in the promised dress. Instead, she wore an oversized set of pajamas, the faint masculine scent unmistakable.

She looked down at herself and let out a snort. "A dress, my ass," she muttered, shaking her head