My Vampire Beloved Husband
Chapter 146: Why Was It Here

Chapter 146: Why Was It Here

As they began walking toward the area, Rylan approached them and spoke respectfully, "Welcome back, Mr. Zylan and Mrs. Naomi. How was your trip?"

Zylan gave him a brief nod—enough for Rylan to understand the answer without further words. Naomi, however, responded with a polite smile. "It was great, thank you."

Rylan nodded in acknowledgment before Zylan spoke again. "Get the Eaglet."

Without hesitation, Rylan left to fulfill the request. Meanwhile, Naomi and Zylan made their way to the garden and took a seat. The sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a breathtaking orange-pink sky that cast a dreamy glow over everything. The gentle evening breeze brushed against them, carrying the faint scent of flowers.

Naomi entwined her fingers with Zylan’s, savoring the warmth of his palm against hers. She turned to him and whispered, "Promise me you’ll never leave me."

Zylan smiled, his voice firm yet tender. "I promise, my wife. And I’ll keep saying it, over and over—I won’t ever leave you."

Naomi fell silent for a moment, watching his expression carefully before she teasingly added, "Well, that’s exactly what you said to your ex-wife."

Zylan stilled briefly, then nodded. "I once said the same to her..."

A hint of unease crept into Naomi’s chest. Had she crossed a line? She immediately shook her head and laughed lightly. "I was just kidding. As long as you say you won’t leave me, I trust you." She offered him a reassuring smile.

Zylan gave her a nod, though his eyes betrayed his inner turmoil. He blamed himself, afraid—what if she hated him when she learned the truth?

Just then, footsteps approached. It was Rylan.

He stepped forward and placed a small cage on the table. Inside, under the soft glow of two tiny pink lights, sat a plump little bird—the Eaglet. The moment it noticed them, it tilted its head to one side, then the other, studying them curiously as if recognizing their faces but needing time to confirm.

Naomi giggled as she leaned in. "Isn’t it adorable?"

Zylan watched her, a faint smile playing on his lips before his gaze shifted to the bird.

Naomi gasped in delight. "Wow, it looks like it’s grown bigger!"

Rylan spoke quietly. "He’s never done that before—tilting his head like that. This is the first time he’s done it since you two returned."

Naomi’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. She playfully tilted her head to one side. The bird mimicked her. She tilted to the other side, and it followed. "See? He really likes us!" she exclaimed.

Zylan observed the interaction before Naomi turned to him with a playful pout. "Come on, don’t be rude—say hi!"

Zylan arched a brow. "Hi."

"No, say it properly!" she insisted.

Rylan, standing at the corner, struggled to suppress his laughter.

Zylan sighed, then finally murmured, "Hi."

Naomi clapped excitedly. The bird tilted its head even more, seemingly responding to him. Naomi giggled, clapping again. "Yay! I think he likes you already!"

Zylan simply watched her, amused.

"It must be bedtime," she finally said.

Rylan nodded. "He was already asleep before I brought him here."

Naomi waved at the bird. "Oops! Goodnight, Mr. Eaglet! We’ll see you another time."

As if understanding, the bird tilted its head once more before Rylan carefully carried the cage away.

For a while, Naomi and Zylan simply sat in the garden, enjoying the quiet. The only sounds were the distant rustling of leaves and the rhythmic chirping of crickets.

Zylan finally broke the silence. "It’s getting late. Come, let me show you my room. Are you ready?"

Naomi braced herself and nodded.

Zylan took her hand, leading her inside the mansion.

Naomi’s heart pounded in her chest.

Zylan glanced at her and spoke softly. "You don’t have to be nervous, okay? I’m here."

The warmth in his voice sent a blush creeping onto her face. Had he been listening to her heartbeat all along?

As if reading her thoughts, he added with a small smile, "It’s very soothing to hear your heartbeat."

If only she knew—her steady heartbeat was one of the few things that helped him sleep. Whenever he slept beside her, the rhythmic sound of it was like a lullaby, grounding him in a way nothing else could.

He gently led her up the stairs. The moment they reached the hallway leading to his room—marked by a single door—Zylan’s grip on her hand tightened slightly, as though bracing himself.

Naomi noticed. She turned to him, her voice soft. "Zylan, if you’re not ready yet, I can wait—"

Zylan shook his head, determination flashing in his eyes. "No. I want to show it to you, my wife. I can’t keep letting the past control me. I have to fight it."

Naomi knew this room must have meant a lot to him.

The first time she had come here, she had assumed the reason she wasn’t allowed in was because they weren’t legally married yet. Or maybe, she had thought, they simply didn’t trust her enough. But now, standing before the closed door with Zylan at her side, she realized it was far more than that.

Even the servants weren’t allowed here.

And strangely enough, Zylan himself hardly ever entered this place.

Yes, he slept here. That much was obvious. But the way he had hesitated before bringing her here, the way something flickered in his eyes when he stood before the door, made her realize it wasn’t just about privacy.

It was something deeper.

Something buried in his past.

Naomi could feel the weight of his emotions pressing against the air between them. It wasn’t just about letting her into his room—it was about letting her into a part of himself he had long kept sealed away.

She met his gaze, searching his face.

Zylan’s expression was unreadable, but his grip on her hand tightened, as if silently asking her to stay by his side.

Naomi gave a small nod, placing her trust in him.

Zylan took a deep breath. His fingers curled around the door handle. He inhaled sharply as if steadying himself before finally pushing it open.

The door creaked slightly, the sound cutting through the heavy silence.

Naomi could sense how difficult this was for him. The hesitation in his movements, the tension in his grip—it was all there. She didn’t want to push him, didn’t want to force him into something he wasn’t ready for.

She parted her lips, about to tell him he didn’t have to do this. That there was no need to force himself.

But before she could say a word, his hand was already moving.

And then, the door was open.

A strange sensation washed over her the moment she stepped forward.

Naomi froze.

Something was off.

A flicker of something—memories, maybe? But not quite. More like pieces of a puzzle, scattered and disjointed, flashing through her mind too fast for her to catch. She couldn’t see them clearly. Couldn’t grasp them. Yet, they left an odd weight in her chest, lingering on the edges of her consciousness.

It was as if she had been here before.

But that was impossible.

Zylan’s voice broke through the haze.

"Naomi?"

She blinked. The strange feeling clung to her, but she forced it away, shaking off the lingering unease.

She lifted her head and met his gaze.

A small smile. A reassuring nod.

And then, she stepped inside.

The room was quiet. Too quiet.

Her eyes widened as she took in the surroundings. Everything was meticulously arranged, untouched, as though frozen in time.

The walls were painted a darkish white—not quite pure, not quite warm. The color gave off a sense of coolness, distant yet oddly comforting. The furnishings were simple yet elegant, with a large canopy bed positioned against the far wall. Dark curtains framed the tall windows, blocking out most of the outside light.

It looked like a normal bedroom.

But it didn’t feel like one.

Something about it unsettled her.

Naomi couldn’t place what it was exactly. But as she stood there, a quiet pang of emotion settled in her chest—not quite pain, but something akin to jealousy.

Not the bitter kind.

Not the kind that festered.

Just a deep, quiet sadness.

This was the room Zylan had once shared with his ex-wife.

She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t even upset. But she couldn’t help but wonder how much he had endured over the years—no, over the centuries. The weight of time, the pain of loss. How many memories were locked away in this place? How many regrets?

Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.

She forced herself to move, her gaze trailing across the room.

And then—

She stopped.

Her breath hitched.

A vase.

Naomi’s heart pounded as she stepped toward it. Her pulse roared in her ears, drowning out everything else. Her hands trembled. Her lips parted, but no words came out.

Zylan watched her carefully.

"Naomi?" His voice was soft, cautious.

But she couldn’t answer.

She couldn’t take her eyes off the vase.

Her fingers hovered just above it, afraid to touch, afraid to confirm that it was real.

Because she had seen this vase before.

Not in this room.

Not in this lifetime.

In a dream.

A dream so vivid it had felt real.

The same intricate patterns, the same delicate curves. The same vase that had been gifted to her by the man whose hair she had once woven.

How?

Why was it here?

Her voice came out barely above a whisper.

"Where did you get this?"

Zylan frowned.

Her question caught him off guard. His expression shifted, eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to understand the sudden change in her demeanor.

But Naomi couldn’t focus on him right now.

Her heart pounded in her chest, an unsettling mixture of fear and familiarity washing over her.

She had dreamed of this vase.

So why did it exist in reality?

And what did it mean?