My Vampire Beloved Husband
Chapter 25: Give a Name

Chapter 25: Give a Name

Naomi froze.

What? This was unexpected.

Suspicion crept into her mind. After all, she was married to him now, right? She had every right to speak her mind, didn’t she? She wasn’t trapped—not anymore. With a deep breath, she gathered her courage, her voice calm yet carrying an undertone of something heavier.

"Why are you doing all this?" she asked, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "This isn’t normal. We... we barely know each other."

She could feel the words linger in the air between them, an unspoken question. The confusion, the hesitation, and the unease—everything she’d been feeling since this whirlwind arrangement began—was captured in that simple question. Her eyes searched his face, but he remained unreadable.

Zylan chuckled, his voice low but smooth, with an intensity that felt almost too focused on her. "Such a smart one," he said, his eyes glinting with something she couldn’t quite decipher.

Naomi felt a flicker of irritation. Smart? Was he being sarcastic? Or was he mocking her intelligence? She couldn’t tell. His expression remained the same: calm, aloof, with that hint of amusement lingering in the curve of his lips. Her brow furrowed, and she clenched her fists slightly. There was something about the way he looked at her, as if he was seeing right through her. But that didn’t mean she had to like it.

Her glare met his, and her heart raced with a mixture of frustration and confusion. Why couldn’t she figure him out? He was so different from anyone she had ever met, and his calm amusement only deepened her suspicion. To him, she probably looked like a child throwing a tantrum, a kitten hissing over spilt milk.

The silence stretched, heavy with the tension that seemed to grow thicker with each second. Naomi finally tore her gaze away, staring out the window as a wave of discomfort washed over her. The gown she was wearing felt tighter, the fabric clinging to her in ways that made her feel trapped. Beautiful as it was, it did nothing to ease her sense of unease.

Where are we going? she wondered, watching the city lights blur past the window. The uncertainty made the drive feel endless, each passing second filled with a thousand questions she couldn’t bring herself to ask. Finally, as if sensing her discomfort, Zylan signaled to the chauffeur. The car slowed, pulling to a stop in front of an unfamiliar building.

Naomi blinked, her attention caught as the door was opened. A pair of women stood outside, their expressions warm yet somehow unreadable, as though they were welcoming her into an unknown world. She hesitated, glancing back at Zylan, who merely gestured toward the women.

"They’ll help you change into something simpler," he said. "We’ll be traveling somewhere far, and you’ll want to be comfortable."

She felt a mixture of relief and confusion. Where exactly were they going? And why the change of clothes? The women gave her encouraging smiles, and despite her wariness, she found herself relaxing, just a little. The two of them had a sort of kindness that she hadn’t expected.

Stepping out, she followed them toward the building, her mind racing with questions that had no answers. The moment she crossed the threshold, she was met with an unexpected sight. The décor wasn’t the grand, opulent style she had anticipated. Instead, it was almost modest—a duplex with a touch of elegance, yet something about it felt oddly intimate.

She looked around, but her eyes were drawn to something else entirely: an entire collection of clothing, displayed neatly across the room. Dresses, shoes, accessories—all laid out as if awaiting her arrival. A strange feeling twisted in her chest. Did he... arrange all this for me? The thought unsettled her.

’Did Zylan bring some of his other... ladies here too?’ The idea made her heart clench unexpectedly, an unwelcome pang of something she couldn’t quite name. Why do I even care? she chided herself. It’s not like this means anything...

One of the women, noticing her distracted expression, spoke softly. "Mr. Zylan recently bought this for you. Feel free to choose whatever you like."

Naomi nodded, though her mind was elsewhere. Why would he go to such lengths? Her gaze drifted over the array of clothes, each one more beautiful than the last. Even if she wore three outfits a day, she could never make use of all of them. The thought left her both awed and perplexed.

As if sensing her hesitation, the brunette woman began helping her, leading her gently toward one of the gowns. Naomi’s thoughts swirled, struggling to make sense of the situation. The entire setup felt too personal, too intimate, as if Zylan was laying down pieces of a puzzle for her to assemble. And yet, the picture remained just out of reach.

Her mind drifted back to her earlier suspicion. Did he really care? She knew it was a baseless thought, yet she couldn’t shake it. A strange warmth crept into her cheeks, and she looked away, embarrassed by her own assumption. Why do I keep jumping to conclusions?

The brunette’s voice interrupted her thoughts, gentle but grounding. "Would you like some help loosening the gown?"

She nodded absentmindedly, allowing the woman to assist her in slipping out of the intricate fabric. Soon, she found herself in a soft, pajama-like outfit—simple, comfortable, and an immense relief from the weight of the gown. The material felt light against her skin, easing the tension she hadn’t realized she was carrying.

Once she was dressed, she stepped out to see the two women carefully packing some of the clothing into a suitcase. She raised an eyebrow, curiosity sparking as she watched them arrange the garments with precision.

"These are for your honeymoon," the brunette explained, her tone warm but professional.

Naomi felt her stomach twist. "Honeymoon? Are we... staying that long?"

The woman smiled. "Just in case, miss. If you decide you don’t like something, you’ll have options."

Naomi’s gaze drifted over the clothes they had arranged. Each outfit was already coordinated, styled down to the smallest detail. There was a strange sort of convenience in it; she wouldn’t have to spend time deciding what to wear. It’s all so... prepared.

After helping her close the suitcase, they led her back to the car, loading everything with practiced efficiency. Naomi climbed in, settling into her seat, only to realize that Zylan had changed as well. He now wore a simpler outfit, one that felt more relaxed, as if they were merely going on a casual outing. Even the chauffeur appeared more informal, his attire a marked difference from the formal wear she had initially seen.

As the car started again, Naomi’s gaze drifted back to the women who were waving goodbye. She returned the gesture, feeling a peculiar sense of gratitude toward their kindness and attentiveness. Small as it was, their warmth offered her a strange comfort in this whirlwind of uncertainty.

The silence filled the car once more, yet this time, it felt charged with an unspoken tension. Zylan’s face, usually so impassive, held a different expression. His eyes were thoughtful, his jaw tense as he appeared lost in contemplation. Finally, he broke the silence, his tone serious, but with a hint of something that sent a shiver down her spine.

"How about I give you a name?" he asked, his voice quiet, as if testing the words.

Naomi blinked. "Wait... what?" She couldn’t help the incredulous note in her voice. A name? She already had a name, didn’t she?

Zylan’s gaze held hers, his expression unreadable. "I want to give you a name."

She hesitated, unsure how to respond. Was he serious? "I already have a name," she replied, her voice carrying a note of disbelief. What is wrong with him?

He continued as though he hadn’t heard her protest. "How about... ’My Little Eaglet’?"

The nickname caught her off guard, and she felt her cheeks warm under his steady gaze. Little Eaglet? It wasn’t like any pet name she’d ever imagined, and yet, there was something oddly fitting about it.

"Your fierceness," he added, a small smile tugging at his lips. "That name suits you perfectly."

Naomi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Fierceness? If anything, she felt small and uncertain, caught in the vastness of his world. Still, the sincerity in his voice made her heart skip a beat, and she turned her gaze away, not wanting him to see the effect his words had on her.

A spark of mischief lit up within her. Two can play at this game."How about we make it even, my dear husband?" she said, a boldness slipping into her voice.

His brows lifted slightly, caught off guard by her sudden assertiveness. A flicker of amusement crossed his face, and his lips curved into a slow, unreadable smile. "Go on," he replied, his tone a mixture of curiosity and challenge.

She met his gaze, a playful glint in her eyes. "How about I call you... a ghost? How would you feel about that?"

Zylan’s expression shifted, and for a brief moment, a seriousness passed over his face that took her by surprise. "I’m much more than that," he replied, his voice carrying an edge of something almost... dangerous.

Naomi blinked, unsettled by the sudden change.

Before she knew it, he pulled her toward him, his grip firm yet gentle, his touch sending a wave of unfamiliar emotions through her. In one swift motion, his lips grazed her neck, igniting a spark that left her breathless. "How about I mark this place?" His voice was low, teasing, and laced with a possessive edge that sent shivers down her spine.

"W...what are you doing?" she stammered, her voice barely more than a whisper, disbelief evident in her wide eyes. How could he pull her close like this—especially with the chauffeur right there? Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as her gaze dropped, finding it difficult to meet his intense, penetrating stare. The proximity felt both terrifying and exhilarating, her heart pounding in her chest like a drumbeat.

Zylan loosened his hold but didn’t let go entirely. His arm remained wrapped around her waist, pulling her just close enough to feel his steady presence. His face lingered near her neck, and she could feel his warm breath against her skin, sending an intoxicating thrill through her. What’s with him and my neck? she wondered, feeling the warmth of his closeness seep into her being. Though she remained outwardly silent, her heart raced uncontrollably, her thoughts tangling in confusion and curiosity. How could anyone think rationally with Zylan so close, his intense gaze, and his energy enveloping her senses?

"I wouldn’t be happy if you went to sleep early tonight," he murmured, his voice low and dark, with a hint of amusement. His words brushed against her skin, almost like a caress, and her eyes widened at the implications. "After all, it’s our wedding night."

Her breath caught, her mind spinning. "You..." Naomi struggled to find the words, her thoughts a flurry of bewilderment. What did he even mean by that? Her pulse raced, the question slipping out of her mouth before she could even think to stop it.

"Are you even human?" she whispered, almost afraid of the answer.