The Tyrant's Bride: His Plaything, His Prisoner

Carter turned back, his sharp gaze landing on Aria, who had already pulled back the quilt, her movements cautious yet resigned.

"Sleep here. Unless you want Grandma storming in to check on you in the middle of the night, you don't have a choice," Carter said curtly, pushing the clothes tray toward her.

Though his tone was harsh, it was clear that Carter cared deeply about his grandmother.

For her, he would do anything, even tolerate sharing a bed with someone he barely considered tolerable.

Aria's eyes flicked to the clothes tray, noticing the tags still dangling from the garments.

The styles were modest, a fact she appreciated under the circumstances.

After some hesitation, she picked a dark purple nightgown.

It was simple but elegant, carrying a sense of nobility.

Without a word, she retreated to the bathroom to change.

The silky fabric felt cool against her skin as she stepped out, her nerves growing more unsettled with each passing second.

Although they were legally married and had shared brief, fragmented moments of closeness, this was different.

This was the first time she would be sharing a bed with a man, not just any man, but him.

Her heart raced, unsure of how to navigate the situation.

Before she could overthink it further, Carter's cold, clipped voice shattered her thoughts like a bucket of ice water.

"Listen up. Don't cross the line. Don't touch me. Don't move around. Don't pull the quilt. Don't snore. Don't disturb my rest. Got it?"

Aria's initial nervousness evaporated, replaced by a wave of irritation.

Why was he like this?

She clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white, her mind racing with exasperation.

How did I forget he's an absolute lunatic? she fumed inwardly.

And me?

A pregnant woman, reduced to living like this with such a control freak?

Her cheeks puffed slightly as she forced a nod.

"Oh," she said simply, biting back the flood of words she wanted to unleash.

With a frustrated huff, she climbed onto the bed, deliberately keeping a wide gap between them, enough space to fit another person, maybe two.

She thought her irritation would keep her wide awake, but her exhaustion from the past few days caught up to her.

Before she knew it, her head hit the pillow, and sleep claimed her.

---

Carter, on the other hand, couldn't relax.

The soft scent of lavender from her hair lingered in the air, making his usually serene space feel foreign.

His brow furrowed as he tried to shut it out. W

When her breathing softened into the slow rhythm of sleep, his irritation only deepened.

This damn woman!

Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to will himself to sleep.

Counting sheep?

Sure, why not?

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Just as he felt himself begin to drift, a warm weight draped across him.

Carter's eyes snapped open.

Her arm had somehow ended up across his chest, her soft, warm body pressing partially against him.

His teeth clenched, his patience nearing its limit.

"Aria," he hissed through gritted teeth, trying to maintain some control.

"Hmm?" she murmured sleepily, her head snuggling closer into his chest as though seeking comfort.

Carter froze as her voice wavered, filled with soft, dreamlike sorrow.

"Why… Why do this to me?" she whispered, her words fragmented and tearful.

His frustration faltered, replaced by a flicker of guilt.

He remembered her condition, pregnant, vulnerable, and thrust into an impossible situation.

For a moment, his scowl softened, his hands easing their grip on her arm.

But just as his sympathy began to take hold, her next words made his entire body tense.

"Ryder…" she breathed, barely audible but unmistakable.

Carter's jaw clenched, the vein in his temple throbbing as his mind replayed the sound of that name.

She was dreaming of another man, in his bed.

Unbelievable.

"Aria Monroe!" he barked, shoving her arm off him.

The sudden movement startled her awake.

Blinking groggily, she rubbed her eyes, her voice still drowsy. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" he echoed, his voice dripping with restrained fury. "You're shouting another man's name in my bed. What do you think is wrong?"

But Aria didn't seem to register his anger.

She groaned softly and snuggled back down, mumbling, "I'm sleepy. Let me sleep, okay? I'll clean the bathroom tomorrow, promise…"

She pressed herself closer, her soft form molding into his side as though seeking warmth.

Carter stiffened, his face a mask of disbelief.

This woman… Is she a leech?

Growling under his breath, he stared at the ceiling, his mind racing.

No matter how infuriating she was, he couldn't exactly throw her out of the bed now.

His grandmother would have a field day if she found out.