My Vampire Beloved Husband
Chapter 24: Night Wedding

Chapter 24: Night Wedding

Naomi’s heart clenched as a wave of pain hit her. In all the weddings she had attended, the bride was always accompanied by her father, guiding her down the aisle to the groom. But her reality was different. She forced a weak smile, though it was clearly strained. Her grip on the bouquet tightened so fiercely that she was amazed it didn’t crumble in her hands.

"It’s okay, Miss Naomi. I’m with you," Rhea reassured her softly, sensing her unease. The gentle words brought Naomi a small measure of comfort, reminding her that she wasn’t entirely alone, even if this was just Rhea’s duty. Naomi knew Rhea had gone beyond what was expected, doing her best to make her feel less like a prisoner in her own wedding. For that, Naomi was genuinely thankful.

Taking a shaky breath, she stepped forward, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the bouquet in her hands as she made her way down the aisle. Each step felt heavier than the last, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the weight was from the gown or the crushing anxiety gnawing at her insides.

As she drew closer to the altar, Naomi finally allowed herself to look up—and there he was.

Zylan.

Her heart skipped a beat, a reaction she hadn’t expected. Why did he have this effect on her? It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Yet there he stood, almost too perfect, almost too commanding to be real. But there was no escaping now. Running away would mean a legal battle over divorce; she was trapped until they signed the papers.

Zylan was watching her, his gaze unwavering. His thick ink-black hair was swept back, revealing strong, defined features. His dark eyes held hers with an intensity that made her throat tighten, and her heart skipped again, disobeying her attempts to steady it.

He wore a tailored black suit that highlighted his tall, lean build, every inch of him radiating confidence and control. Everything about him—from the impeccable cut of his suit to the polished shine of his shoes—spoke of immense wealth and influence. Her parents were well-off, but Zylan’s world was something else entirely. She knew how much her father had longed for this union, how he had swallowed his pride and practically begged for this partnership. A man who had held his ego above everything was reduced to asking.

Now, here she was, standing before Zylan, trying desperately to maintain her composure. Yet, the sheer weight of it all was crushing her. She shifted her footing, feeling unstable on her heels, and that’s when it happened. She stumbled, her mind going blank as she braced herself for an embarrassing fall in front of everyone. But before she hit the ground, firm hands caught her waist, holding her steady.

Zylan’s hands.

Gasps rippled through the audience as they witnessed what could have been a disastrous moment. Naomi’s breath hitched; she was as shocked as they were. There was something unnerving about how quickly and effortlessly he moved to catch her, as if he had known she would fall before she even did. Her eyes met his, and for a brief second, she saw something there—something almost like amusement.

"Careful, darling," he said softly, his voice low and reassuring.

Her stomach twisted, and she pulled back slightly, her face flushed with embarrassment. Had he just called her ’darling’?

The priest cleared his throat, struggling to regain his composure after the unexpected incident. Naomi tried to catch her breath, feeling utterly unprepared for what came next.

She didn’t even remember the priest’s words; they were all a blur, a hazy fog that only cleared when she heard her name.

"Naomi, do you take Zylan to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

Naomi felt herself tremble as Zylan’s smile widened at the mention of death. A shiver raced down her spine. Why would he smile at that? What was he thinking? It was as if he was amused by the idea, as if the concept of death entertained him in some twisted way.

She wanted to look away, but his eyes had her trapped, as if some invisible force held her in place. And then she heard herself say it:

"Yes, I do."

The words left her mouth before she even realized it, and she froze, shocked. Why had she spoken so quickly, so easily? What had come over her? Did Zylan have some power over her, making her speak against her will? She couldn’t understand it.

The priest seemed equally rattled. His hands shook slightly as he tried to continue, stuttering over Zylan’s name without the formality of "Mr."—as if he, too, was affected by the overwhelming presence standing beside Naomi.

Finally, with a composed but strained voice, he declared, "Then you may kiss the bride."

Naomi barely had a moment to react. In one swift, fluid motion, Zylan pulled her close. His arm snaked around her waist, and before she could register what was happening, his lips were on hers. It was brief, just a soft touch, but it was enough to send a jolt of electricity down her spine. Her eyes widened in shock, and a storm of confusion swirled inside her.

Butterflies. There was no other way to describe the feeling. A thousand butterflies had taken flight in her stomach, and the sparks that danced behind her eyelids felt like fireworks lighting up the night sky. Her heart thudded in her chest, each beat echoing louder than the last.

The ceremony ended faster than she anticipated, leaving Naomi with a strange sense of emptiness. It was a night wedding—something she had never heard of before. All the weddings she’d attended had been in the morning or afternoon. What made this one so different? She didn’t want to label it as odd, but if anyone was considered strange, it was her—with her unusual golden eyes and hair.

Wasn’t there usually a moment when parents and siblings shared a few words about the couple? An event of celebration, of unity? But none of that happened. It seemed she was mistaken—or perhaps this was simply how things were in Zylan’s world—unpredictable and untraditional.

They were soon led to a car, a sleek, golden-black luxury vehicle that gleamed under the dim night lights. It looked absurdly expensive, and Naomi hesitated before getting inside. The car’s interior was just as luxurious—smooth leather seats and polished wooden accents.

The silence between them was thick and heavy. Naomi sat with her hands folded in her lap, unsure of what to say or even how to breathe.

Zylan’s faint smile hadn’t left his face since they kissed. Her heart refused to settle, the memory of that brief touch replaying over and over in her mind.

As the car sped away, she felt his gaze on her, an unwavering stare that burned into her skin. She tried to ignore it, staring at her reflection in the window, but she could feel him watching her—studying her every movement. It wasn’t just a look; it was the kind of gaze that stripped away every defense, leaving her bare and vulnerable. She fidgeted, her fingers twisting nervously around the fabric of her dress.

"I must say, darling," Zylan’s voice broke the silence, smooth and deep, "you look absolutely gorgeous tonight."

Naomi froze, the compliment catching her off guard. Her eyes widened, and she felt heat rush to her cheeks. She had expected him to be distant, indifferent—yet there he was, speaking to her with a gentle tone that threw her completely off balance.

She opened her mouth to respond, but the words died in her throat. She couldn’t look at him.

Slowly, he reached out, and she felt the soft pressure of his fingertips as he tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. His thumb brushed lightly against her lips, sending a shockwave through her entire body.

"Have you kissed anyone before?" he asked, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

Naomi’s breath caught, and she could only stare, lost in the intensity of his dark eyes. There was something in them—a challenge, a secret, an unspoken promise that made her heart stutter. But she couldn’t answer.

Naomi’s breath caught, and she could only stare, lost in the intensity of his dark eyes. There was something in them—a challenge, a secret, an unspoken promise that made her heart stutter. But she couldn’t answer. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to respond to a question so intimate, so unexpected. Her silence hung in the air, thick and suffocating, as Zylan’s lips curved into a smile that was both gentle and knowing.

"Why are you asking?" she finally managed, her voice wavering as she struggled to calm her racing heart. But it was futile—his gaze was too intense, leaving her feeling exposed in a way she couldn’t quite articulate.

"I know you haven’t," he replied, his voice low and certain. The way he spoke made it clear he had noticed her discomfort during their kiss. To him, it was obvious—she was inexperienced.

Naomi bit her lower lip and turned her face away, a wave of embarrassment washing over her. Memories of university surfaced unbidden. Some of her classmates had teasingly dubbed her "single for life" because she had avoided any romantic entanglements, consistently turning down the boys who showed interest in her. At the time, she hadn’t cared about their taunts, but now, under Zylan’s piercing scrutiny, those words stung in a way they never had before. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink as she struggled to shake off the humiliation.

Zylan’s question hadn’t been casual; he had wanted to hear her say it. There was something about confirming her innocence that seemed to satisfy him in an unnervingly profound way.

Desperate to escape the moment, Naomi shifted in her seat and asked, "Where are we going?" Her voice was firmer now, though the lingering tension betrayed her unease. She realized they hadn’t entered the Reed villa yet, and the thought of being alone with him in an unfamiliar place only heightened her anxiety.

Zylan chuckled softly, the sound low and rich, as if her question amused him. His smile deepened, revealing a hint of mischief.

"We are going for our honeymoon," he said simply, his tone as casual as if he were commenting on the weather.