My Vampire Beloved Husband
Chapter 142: Rumors

Chapter 142: Rumors

Naomi fell silent for a moment, her thoughts gnawing at her, eating away at the fragile sense of peace she had barely begun to feel. A question lingered in her mind, one she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to.

Was he the one who wasn’t ready to mark her, or was there something else—something he was keeping from her?

She didn’t want to believe that Zylan would ever hide anything from her. Not now. Not after everything they had been through. But then again, there was always that flicker of hesitation in his gaze, that brief pause before he spoke, like he was carefully choosing his words.

Like there was something he couldn’t say.

Her voice was quiet when she finally spoke. "Is it possible to mark two people?"

The moment the words left her lips, she felt it—the shift in the air, the sudden tension that thickened between them.

Zylan stilled.

His body, usually so composed, was frozen in place. His expression remained unreadable, but something dark flickered behind his eyes.

He knew exactly what she was referring to.

For a long moment, he said nothing, as if weighing his response, considering whether he should lie or tell the truth. The silence stretched, pressing down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

Then, at last, he spoke.

"You’re not ready to be marked, Eaglet," he said, his voice calm but firm. "I’m telling you this now. You’re not ready."

Naomi didn’t know what she had expected, but somehow, that answer left a strange ache in her chest.

She could sense it.

The hesitation in his voice.

The flicker of something in his eyes—something she couldn’t quite place.

Fear.

Not fear of her, but fear of something else. Something deeper.

Something she wasn’t supposed to know.

She held his gaze, searching for an answer he wasn’t giving her. Then, in a soft voice, she asked, "Is there something you’re not telling me?"

Again, silence.

Longer this time.

Zylan’s expression didn’t change, but his fingers twitched slightly, as if resisting the urge to reach for her, to pull her close and silence the questions before they could go any further.

When he finally responded, his voice was lower, steadier, but she could hear the restraint woven into every syllable.

"I promise to tell you everything once we get back home. If, after hearing everything, you still think you want to be marked by me, then I swear—I will do it."

The weight of his words settled deep in her bones.

He wasn’t rejecting her.

Not exactly.

But he was hiding something. And whatever it was... it was enough to make him hesitate.

Naomi said nothing.

She could only wonder what he truly meant by that.

Another silence stretched between them before Zylan finally stood. His movement was smooth, effortless, like a shadow shifting in the dimly lit room.

Naomi instinctively followed, her body reacting before her mind could catch up.

Before she could say anything, he spoke again.

"Go rest while I wash the dishes."

Naomi blinked, his words catching her completely off guard.

"No, you can’t wash them," she said quickly, a hint of disbelief in her tone.

The thought of Zylan Reed—powerful, exuding an almost untouchable presence—doing something as mundane as washing dishes?

It seemed absurd.

Was he joking?

But when she looked at him, there was no trace of amusement in his expression.

In fact, it was the kind of thought that might even seem illegal to think.

A small chuckle escaped her lips before she shook her head.

Zylan only smiled in response.

"My wife, please, let me."

There was something about the way he said it that made her relent.

Not because he had asked, but because of the way his voice softened, the way his eyes held hers with something unreadable yet oddly tender.

She sighed.

"Fine, I’ll go freshen up," she murmured, turning away before pausing. Then, in a softer voice, she added, "Don’t hurt yourself. Be careful."

Zylan smirked at the concern in her tone, his expression teasing yet warm.

"I won’t, my wife."

Her cheeks grew warm.

Without another word, she hurried to the wardrobe, selecting a nightgown before making her way to the bathroom.

As she turned on the water, her thoughts remained tangled in his words.

What was it that he wanted to tell her?

What was he hiding?

Shaking off the thoughts, she stepped under the warm spray, letting the water soothe her.

After finishing her bath, she dried her hair, went through her usual skincare and body care routine, then slipped into her nightwear.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, she deliberately avoided looking in Zylan’s direction.

She didn’t want her mind wandering into inappropriate territory.

But then she heard it.

A deep chuckle.

Followed by the soft sound of the door closing.

It was obvious he had gone to freshen up too.

For a moment, she simply stood there, her gaze drifting toward the small kitchen area.

Curiosity gnawed at her.

Slowly, she walked toward it.

What she saw made her pause.

The place was spotless. The counters gleamed, the dishes were neatly arranged, and the entire space looked almost untouched.

Had he really done this by hand?

Or had he used his speed?

She stared for a long moment, an odd thought surfacing in her mind.

For some reason, an unfamiliar longing tugged at her.

She wanted to be like him.

A vampire.

But would Zylan ever want to turn her?

She sighed softly, pushing the thought aside.

Walking back to the bed, she climbed in, allowing her body to sink into the comfort of the mattress. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she was just beginning to drift off when the door opened again.

Zylan stepped inside.

Dressed in black pajamas and loose pants, his movements were slow, deliberate, as he walked toward the bed.

Without hesitation, he laid down beside her, his strong arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her close.

His face nuzzled against her neck, and Naomi could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Then, in a quiet voice, he asked, "My wife, are you feeling sleepy?"

Her heart began to pound.

How could he ask her that...

When she could feel something pressing against her thigh?

A wave of heat crept up her neck as her eyes widened slightly.

Zylan smirked, and before she could pull away, he tightened his hold, pulling her even closer against him.

His hands found her face, his touch gentle yet firm, before leaning in to kiss her.

The kiss was slow.

Unhurried.

Filled with a depth of passion neither of them had dared to express before.

Naomi responded, matching his pace as their lips moved in perfect harmony.

This was different.

This was more than just a kiss—

It was an unspoken confession of everything they had felt but never voiced.

Zylan deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth, and she accepted him without hesitation.

Their movements were synchronized, each touch igniting something deep within them.

Everything felt almost magical.

She gasped softly as she felt him press against her harder, the heat between them intensifying.

When they finally pulled away for air, their gazes locked.

Breath mingling in the silence.

Zylan’s eyes darkened as he studied her, his voice low and rough when he finally spoke.

"You’re really something, my wife," he murmured, his thumb brushing over her swollen lips. "You’ve made me feel something I thought I’d never experience again... this urge, this hunger."

He paused.

His smirk deepened as he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear.

"But with you—and only you—I will f*ck your brain senseless."

For some reason, Naomi’s heart began to pound wildly.

Zylan chuckled at her reaction, shaking his head slightly before speaking again—his tone slow, deliberate, utterly sinful.

He leaned closer, his lips ghosting over her skin, teasing her with the warmth of his breath.

A slow grin spread across his face as he watched her reaction. His striking features softened, and a flicker of something unspoken danced in his eyes.

Before Naomi even realized what she was doing, her fingers found their way into his hair, running through the silky strands. The sensation sent a shiver down her spine—warm, familiar, and oddly comforting.

She moved her fingers slowly, savoring the softness beneath her touch. Each strand slipped between her fingers like liquid silk, as though she had done this a thousand times before.

Like it was natural. Like it belonged to her.

Zylan let out a low hum of pleasure, his deep voice vibrating against the quiet air between them. His eyes, half-lidded, gleamed with something unreadable as he spoke.

"I still remember the time when..." he trailed off, a shadow crossing his expression.

Naomi frowned slightly, waiting for him to continue.

Then, after a long pause, he finally said—

"Rumors that I was no longer a man."

Her fingers stilled.

Naomi blinked, confusion settling in as she processed his words.

"What?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Zylan chuckled, but there was no humor in it. Instead, it held a trace of bitterness, something old and worn—something that had lingered in the corners of his mind for far too long.

He shook his head slightly before continuing, his voice steady but laced with an underlying tension.

"That I had lost all... urges." His tone was almost mocking, but there was an edge to it. "That I had become a creature of ice—emotionless, detached. They whispered that I had abandoned all physical desires, that I was incapable of wanting, of feeling."

Naomi’s heart clenched.

Who had whispered such things? Who had the audacity to believe they could define him, label him as something he wasn’t?

His gaze darkened as he reached out, tilting her chin up with two fingers, forcing her to meet his eyes. The intensity in his stare made her breath hitch.

"But you, my wife..." His voice dropped to something deeper, something raw and unguarded. "You’ve proven them wrong."

He paused, letting the words settle between them, letting their weight sink in.

"Not just them," he murmured, his thumb brushing against her skin. "You’ve cleared my doubts as well."