chapter 4

The night was thick with mist as Kara sped through the darkened streets, the cool air biting against her skin. The conversation with her parents still echoed in her mind, their suffocating expectations wrapping around her like iron chains.

Earlier that evening, her mother had insisted she wear a dress and present herself as a proper lady in front of Damien. Though Kara despised such formalities, she had begrudgingly complied, knowing that outright defiance would only make things worse. As she descended the stairs in an elegant gown, Damien's gaze had flickered with something unreadable—perhaps amusement, perhaps surprise. For a fleeting moment, she looked every bit the reputable lady society expected. And yet, despite her refined appearance, her sharp words from their past encounters still lingered in his mind, fueling his silent frustration.

She needed to escape, even if only for a while.

The rumble of her motorcycle filled the silent night, a defiant roar against a world that sought to silence her. The dirt path led her away from the city, toward the outskirts where the land was wilder, untamed. It was here she felt the freest, away from scrutinizing eyes and unwanted rules.

She had no destination in mind—she simply rode. But then, over the hum of her engine, she heard something that made her fingers tighten around the handlebars.

A cry.

At first, she thought it was the wind whistling through the trees. But as she slowed to a stop, turning off her engine, she heard it again—a weak, desperate wail coming from the side of the road. A child’s cry.

Frowning, Kara swung her leg off the motorcycle and moved cautiously toward the source of the sound. Near a cluster of bushes, wrapped in what looked like a torn cloth, lay a small bundle. Her breath caught as she knelt beside it, her hands trembling slightly as she peeled back the fabric.

A baby.

The child couldn’t have been more than a few months old, its tiny hands balled into fists as it whimpered softly. It was far too cold for a baby to be left outside like this. Kara looked around, expecting—hoping—to see someone nearby. But the road was empty. Whoever had left this child here was long gone.

“Who could have done this to you?” she murmured, her chest tightening as she gently lifted the baby into her arms. The infant barely weighed anything, its fragile body shivering against her warmth.

Kara’s first instinct was to take the baby home, but she hesitated. Her parents would only see this as another reason to call her reckless and unfit to be a ‘proper lady.’ No, she needed help—but from someone who wouldn’t turn this into a scandal.

Her mind flashed to Damien Blackwell.

Damien had barely gotten any sleep. His mind was restless, his father’s words replaying over and over. The arranged marriage, the lack of choice—his own and Kara’s. He wanted to reject it, but his family had made it clear that refusal was not an option.

Duty. Always duty.

A knock at his window jolted him from his thoughts. He frowned, glancing at the clock—well past midnight. Who would be at his window at this hour? Rising cautiously, he stepped toward it, only to freeze at the sight before him.

Kara Winter, gripping the stone ledge with one hand, her other arm wrapped securely around a small bundle, was perched precariously outside. She had climbed the castle walls—of course she had.

Damien wrenched the window open, his eyes narrowing. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Shut up and help me before I drop the baby," she hissed.?

When he opened the window, the last person he expected to see was Kara Winter, gripping the stone ledge with one hand, her other arm wrapped securely around a small bundle.

“We need to talk,” she said, her voice edged with urgency.

Damien’s gaze dropped to the small form in her arms. His eyes widened. “Is that… a baby?”

“Yes, it’s a baby,” she snapped, pushing past him and stepping inside. “And I found it abandoned by the road.”

Damien shut the door behind her, his mind racing. “You… picked up an abandoned child and brought it here? Have you lost your mind?”

Kara shot him a glare. “Would you have preferred I left it there to die?”

Damien sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “That’s not what I meant. This is serious, Kara. We don’t even know where the child came from.”

“I don’t care where it came from. What matters is that it needs help.” She adjusted her hold, looking down at the baby, who had quieted, its tiny fingers grasping at the air. “And I’m keeping it.”

Damien let out a humorless chuckle. “Oh? And how exactly do you plan on doing that? You can barely keep yourself out of trouble, let alone raise a child.”

Kara lifted her chin defiantly. “Then I’ll figure it out.”

Damien sighed, watching her carefully. The fire in her eyes was the same as always, but there was something else beneath it—a fierce protectiveness, a tenderness he hadn’t expected. She wasn’t doing this on a whim. She truly cared.

Still, he crossed his arms and asked, "Okay, but why are you here?"

He exhaled sharply. “Fine. But if you’re determined to keep it, you’ll need my help.”

Kara grinned mischievously. “I can only rely on you, my fiancé,” she said with a wink.

Kara blinked, clearly surprised. “You’re offering to help?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m ensuring you don’t make a bigger mess of things.”

She smirked. “Admit it, Blackwell, you actually care.”

“I care about avoiding unnecessary chaos.”

She arched a brow. “Which means you care.”

Damien sighed, shaking his head. “You are insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are, agreeing to help me.”

He looked down at the baby, who had somehow managed to fall asleep in her arms. Something in his chest tightened—a feeling he couldn’t quite place.

“Let’s just focus on what happens next,” he muttered. “Before we both regret this.”