16- Resilience

When Alexander stepped through the front doors of his estate, the scene inside was just as grim as the battlefield outside. His expression tightened at the sight of dead bodies strewn across the floor, some of his men working in silence to clear them away. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, and the once-pristine floors were smeared with the remnants of the violent confrontation.

His men moved efficiently, dragging the bodies out to be discarded, their faces grim but determined. Despite the chaos, Alexander's presence commanded the room, and those who noticed him immediately stood at attention, awaiting further instructions. They knew their boss would be furious that an attack had made it this far, into the heart of his home.

Alexander's sharp gaze swept over the scene, taking in every detail, his mind racing with the implications. How had Azazel's men gotten so close? How had they managed to breach his defenses?

But above all, one thought dominated his mind: Eleanor had been in danger-inside his home, the place where he had promised to keep her safe.

"Report," he demanded, his voice cutting through the silence.

One of his lieutenants approached, his face pale but composed. "We dealt with most of Azazel's men outside, but a few managed to infiltrate the house before we could stop them. They were targeting Eleanor, sir, but..." He hesitated, casting a glance toward the kitchen. "She handled herself, boss. More than that-she fought like one of us. None of them made it past her."

Alexander's eyes flickered with surprise and pride, though his jaw remained clenched. He nodded curtly, dismissing the man before turning his attention toward the kitchen, where he knew Eleanor was likely still tending to the wounded.

As his men continued to remove the bodies, Alexander felt a surge of possessiveness flood his chest. This attack had been close-too close. Azazel was escalating, and that meant he needed to act quickly. But more than that, it reinforced his determination to keep Eleanor safe. She had shown her strength, but she was still his responsibility. His to protect. His, in every way that mattered.

His steps quickened as he moved toward the kitchen, the images of dead bodies being removed lingering in his mind as a stark reminder that in his world, danger was never far away.

Eleanor finished wrapping the bandage around the final wounded soldier's arm, her hands steady despite the exhaustion that weighed heavily on her. The man's face softened in relief as she secured the bandage, giving her a grateful nod.

"You'll be fine," she reassured him with a small smile, wiping her hands on a cloth stained with blood. Her face was smudged with dirt and sweat, but her focus remained unshaken. She glanced around the room, making sure the men were settled as best as they could be.

As she stood, stretching her sore muscles, she sensed a presence behind her. Turning, she found Alexander watching her, his eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and concern. His usually composed face held a flicker of something more-relief, perhaps.

"All of them are stable for now," Eleanor said, her voice quiet but firm. "We managed to keep most of them from getting seriously hurt."

Alexander's gaze softened as he stepped closer, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "You've done more than enough," he said, his voice low. There was a fierce protectiveness in his tone, but also pride. "But you shouldn't have had to fight them off yourself."

Eleanor shrugged, her resolve still strong. "I wasn't going to sit by and do nothing. This is my home now too."

He looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable, though the intensity in his eyes spoke volumes. "Yes, it is," he agreed, the possessiveness in his voice clear as day. He reached out, pulling her into his embrace, his arms wrapping protectively around her.

"You belong here-with me," Alexander whispered, his lips brushing the top of her head. "I won't let anyone take that from us."

Blake stepped into the room, his eyes widening as he took in the scene before him: wounded men scattered about, the smell of blood and sweat thick in the air, and Eleanor standing amidst it all, looking fierce yet vulnerable in Alexander's embrace.

"What the hell happened?" Blake exclaimed, his voice rising in shock. He quickly assessed the room, his gaze darting between the injured soldiers and Eleanor, who was still cradled in Alexander's protective hold.

Eleanor released herself from Alexander's arms and moved toward Blake, trying to reassure him with a calm demeanor. "It was an ambush, but we managed. Everyone is okay for now," she said, her voice steady even as adrenaline coursed through her.

Blake's brow furrowed as he surveyed the chaos. "Okay? This looks anything but okay!" He glanced back at the men, who were now focused on gathering the injured and clearing the bodies. "You both should've been safe here. This is a freaking estate, not a battleground!"

Eleanor stepped closer to Blake, her eyes narrowing with determination. "I won't hide while others are fighting for their lives, Blake. I can handle myself."

Alexander watched the exchange closely, his jaw tightening at the worry in Blake's voice, but also a hint of pride in Eleanor's defiance. He stepped forward, placing a hand on Blake's shoulder, steadying him. "She's right. Eleanor held her own tonight. We all did what we had to."

Blake shook his head, disbelief etched across his features. "But this is just the beginning, isn't it? Azazel won't back down after this. You both need to be careful."

Eleanor nodded, her expression shifting to one of resolve. "I won't back down either. Not anymore. I refuse to live in fear of my father or his men."

Alexander stepped in closer, his presence radiating authority. "Then we prepare. Together. I won't allow Azazel or anyone else to threaten what we have here." His voice was a commanding promise, and Eleanor felt a spark of reassurance ignite within her.

Blake studied them, understanding dawning on him. "Alright, then. What's the plan?"

"First, we make sure everyone here is tended to and secure," Alexander instructed, his tone brooking no argument. "Then we strategize. We need to find a way to keep Azazel from ever getting close to you again, Eleanor."

With that, the weight of their situation settled around them. They were no longer just surviving; they were preparing to fight back, united against the threats looming on the horizon.