My Vampire Beloved Husband
Chapter 45: Forbidden Place

Chapter 45: Forbidden Place

Naomi finally stirred hours later, her slight movement causing Zylan to slowly open his eyes. He had been lying there, tense and restless, forcing himself to stay still despite the awkwardness of their situation. Sleep had been a fleeting concept, as his mind wrestled with the closeness of her body and the intoxicating pull of her scent.

It wasn’t the awkwardness that kept him awake—it was the overwhelming temptation. Her warmth pressed against him, and he was clinging desperately to his self-control, teetering on the edge of doing something he might regret.

Naomi shifted on top of him, her movements stirring Zylan from his thoughts. He noticed her sudden stillness, the unsteady rhythm of her breathing giving her away. It was clear now—she was awake. Her body hovered over him, tense, as if startled by her own actions.

Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and Zylan, catching the faint rise in her embarrassment, simply shut his eyes. He hoped the gesture would ease her tension, allowing her a moment to collect herself without the weight of his gaze.

Still in shock, Naomi carefully attempted to lift herself off him, not wanting to wake him. His steady breathing made him appear asleep, but her body betrayed her, refusing to cooperate. Instead, she shifted awkwardly, caught in the moment and unsure of what to do.

As she adjusted her position, one palm landed lightly on his waist, while the other brushed perilously close to... well, places she absolutely shouldn’t have touched. Her breath hitched, and she froze, her eyes wide with panic. A gasp escaped her lips, her face turning an even deeper shade of crimson as mortification set in.

"Oh, Naomi, what have you done?" she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible as she pulled her hand away in a panic. Flustered and overwhelmed, she muttered in disbelief, "Oh my... I’ve touched the forbidden place."

Her cheeks burned as she tried to retreat from the uncomfortable situation, her thoughts racing. Every movement felt exaggerated, as if even the air around her mocked her embarrassment.

Zylan, lying still with his breath steady, finally opened his eyes, silently watching Naomi as she fumbled to untangle herself from their intertwined position. Just as she was about to slip away, his hands shot up, catching hers and holding them firmly in place.

Naomi froze, her eyes wide with shock. She had been so sure he was asleep, desperately hoping to avoid the awkwardness of this moment. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

"What forbidden place?" Zylan asked, his voice calm yet laced with curiosity, making her heart race even faster.

Naomi’s face burned even redder—if that was even possible. She squirmed, trying to pull her hands free, her body shifting uneasily as the weight of the situation pressed down on her. What had started as an embarrassing moment had now spiraled into something far worse.

She had hoped this would remain her little secret, buried in the quiet of his supposed slumber. But now, the realization hit her like a thunderclap—he had been awake all along.

"I... I’m sorry. It was a mistake. I promise... I didn’t mean to touch your... um... private..." Naomi stammered, her words faltering as her cheeks burned. Her voice grew quieter with each word, until she finally trailed off, too mortified to continue.

Zylan’s intense gaze remained fixed on her, unblinking and piercing. He didn’t say a word, but the weight of his stare was enough to send her heart drumming. It felt as though he was trying to read her every thought, his silence louder than any response he could have given.

Zylan, still holding her hands, raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "You really have been naughty... and daring," he said, his tone a mix of playfulness and seriousness.

Naomi flinched at his words, her cheeks burning brighter, both from embarrassment and the weight of that particular word—daring. It struck a nerve, dredging up memories she had tried to bury, memories of what had happened at the mansion. The mere mention of the word made her heart twist, amplifying her discomfort.

"I’m not d-daring! Stop!" she protested, her voice trembling as she turned her gaze away, unable to meet his piercing eyes. Her hands fidgeted in his grip, but he didn’t let go.

Zylan chuckled, the sound deep and amused. "Oh, yes, you are," he replied smoothly. "This is what you did to me in your sleep."

He pointed to his neck, and Naomi’s eyes, despite her better judgment, followed his gesture. Her jaw dropped in horror when she saw it—a faint but unmistakable mark. A hickey.

Her face turned scarlet, and she stammered incoherently, "I... I didn’t... That’s not... How...?"

Zylan leaned back slightly, his smirk widening. "So, care to explain this daring act of yours?"

She needed to escape this situation. Zylan watched her closely, his expression a mixture of amusement and intrigue. "So, tell me, Eaglet. Were you dreaming about me?" His tone was teasing, but there was an underlying curiosity in his gaze.

Naomi froze, her body stiffening as her cheeks and neck flushed a deep shade of red. Her heart hammered in her chest, the thought of him knowing what had unfolded in her subconscious overwhelming.

"No," she blurted out hastily, her words tumbling over each other in a rush, but Zylan could see right through her.

"What a bad liar," he chuckled, clearly enjoying her discomfort. "You’re blushing so much, you can’t even keep a straight face."

Naomi shifted her gaze, trying to avoid his eyes. She stared at her finger, desperately searching for something—anything—to distract herself from the intense tension in the room. Of course, she couldn’t tell him that she had been dreaming about him—dreaming about something naughty. The mere thought of confessing that to him made her stomach churn. And worse, she hadn’t just dreamt of him; she had done things in her sleep, things she hadn’t even realized she had done to him. Yet, she was still shocked to find that she had left him... a hickey.

As she nervously glanced around the room, her hand unconsciously reached up to touch his hair. But before she could, his hand shot out, stopping her. Her eyes widened in surprise as her fingers hovered over his hair, but she couldn’t make herself pull away. His touch, warm yet firm, held her in place, and she couldn’t help but feel oddly comforted.

"Your hair..." she started, her voice soft, almost hesitant, as if she was treading carefully. She had never been this unsure of herself with him. "Did you dye it?"

Zylan was caught off guard by her question. He blinked, confused for a moment, before answering. "No."

Naomi frowned, confused herself. As she studied him more closely, she noticed something unusual. A few strands of his hair—just a few—had changed color, turning a soft golden blonde. She hadn’t imagined it; it was there, unmistakable against the rest of his dark hair. This was not his hair—if she was not mistaken.

"Why is it blonde?" Naomi asked, her voice quiet, but laced with curiosity. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the unexpected change.

Zylan’s eyes widened, his breath catching. He froze for a moment, struggling to process the situation. He hadn’t expected this—this—to happen now. The last time his hair had changed like this was a century ago. And now, suddenly, it was happening again. Could it be because he had called out Noelle’s name earlier? Had that somehow triggered this strange occurrence?

His heart beat faster, panic setting in. Why had this happened now? Was it because of her name being spoken? Calling her name... was it a curse to him too?

Naomi, noticing the change in his demeanor, carefully slipped out of bed and approached him. "Zylan?" she called out, her voice tinged with concern.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he walked abruptly, his mind racing with different thought.

"Stay here. I’ll be back," he said, his voice firm, but there was an edge to it. His usual calm demeanor had been replaced with a sense of urgency. He needed to figure out what was going on, but Naomi’s presence only seemed to complicate things.

Naomi took a step forward. "Are you alright?" she asked, worry evident in her tone.

Zylan’s gaze hardened. The coldness in his eyes sent a chill through Naomi. It was worse than the night she had thought he was going to commit suicide. His gaze felt like ice, and for the first time, Naomi realized just how terrifyingly distant he could be.

"Everything is fine. Just stay here," Zylan said sharply, trying to mask his internal conflict. He couldn’t bring her with him—whatever was happening, he couldn’t let Naomi be a part of it. She didn’t deserve to be pulled into his dark past, his mistakes.

Naomi opened her mouth, wanting to insist that she come with him. She could tell something was deeply wrong, and her concern for him outweighed everything else. "I want to come with you...I...I can help..." she started, but Zylan cut her off before she could finish.

His voice came out low, filled with a quiet intensity that made her freeze. "No. Stay here."

The command was final, leaving no room for argument. He turned sharply and walked out of the room, leaving Naomi standing in stunned silence, her heart pounding in her chest.

But as she stared at the closed door, a sense of helplessness washed over her. Zylan had just shut her out. And for the first time in a long while, Naomi felt truly alone.