My Vampire Beloved Husband
Chapter 64: Frozen Confession

Chapter 64: Frozen Confession

Zylan was rendered speechless; his wife was beginning to learn how to silence him.

"Rest first. You don’t have to worry; I won’t leave until you fall asleep tonight," he spoke reassuringly, his tone uncharacteristically gentle as he walked to the door. Naomi remained silent, her gaze lingering on him for a brief moment before she finally lay on the bed. Her mind was too heavy to think clearly, and before long, her exhaustion caught up with her. She drifted into a dreamless sleep, her breathing soft and steady.

Zylan lingered by the door for a moment, his figure cloaked in the dim light, before slipping away into the shadows of the mansion. His footsteps were soundless, each movement fluid and deliberate, as though he were more shadow than man. Ascending to the roof with an ease that seemed almost unnatural, he paused, letting the cool evening air wash over him. He stood motionless, his sharp gaze fixed on the distant void, lost in deep thought.

Rylan appeared beside him, his expression hesitant as he regarded Zylan’s distant gaze. The tension between them was palpable, a silent battle of wills that neither wanted to acknowledge.

"About the masquerade party..." Rylan began cautiously, each word chosen with care. "I’m not sure it’s a good idea to bring her with you. There will be more of our kind present, and—"

"Nothing will happen to her," Zylan interrupted, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge of finality. His gaze remained fixed on the horizon, but his tone was dark, as though daring Rylan to press the issue further.

Rylan hesitated, his unease growing. "I don’t think... You know she’s, um, human, and I suppose—"

Zylan’s head turned sharply, his piercing gaze cutting through the air like a blade. "Say one more word, and your head will roll off this roof," he warned, his tone dangerously low.

Rylan swallowed hard, his unease mounting. This was bad—very bad. Zylan was beginning to have a soft spot for Naomi, a development that could lead to complications far beyond what either of them could anticipate. Rylan knew better than to push his luck, but he also couldn’t afford to stay silent.

He took a cautious step back, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please remember, she needs to know who you are," he finally said, his words heavy with both fear and urgency.

Zylan’s gaze hardened, his presence exuding a menace that made the air around them feel heavy. "Shut up," he commanded.

Rylan’s shoulders tensed, but he bit back any further words. He knew better than to test Zylan’s patience when it was already wearing thin.

For a moment, silence hung between them, thick and oppressive. Zylan spoke again, his tone calm but carrying an undercurrent of something darker. "About her hair..."

Rylan stiffened slightly, understanding the implication immediately.

"I found nothing," he admitted reluctantly. "She doesn’t have any traits of our kind—not even her eyes. They’re entirely human, from her birth. It’s just a coincidence that she looks like her." His voice faltered on the last word, as though he didn’t fully believe his own explanation.

Zylan’s jaw tightened, his expression unreadable. "This can’t be a mere coincidence," he murmured, his voice low and laced with suspicion.

Rylan shook his head slowly, frustration etched into every movement. What was wrong with this boss of his? Couldn’t he see how dangerous this obsession was becoming? Or was he willfully ignoring the truth?

Meanwhile, Naomi stirred in her sleep, waking to the soft sound of a knock on her door. She blinked groggily as the door creaked open, revealing Rhea standing there with her usual warm smile.

"Mrs. Naomi, it’s dinner time," Rhea announced cheerfully.

Naomi nodded, her movements slow and sluggish as she rose from the bed. She followed Rhea downstairs, her thoughts too scattered to focus on much of anything. Dinner was a quiet affair, the absence of Zylan making the large dining room feel even emptier.

After the meal, Naomi decided to take a bath. The warm water of the tub felt like a balm to her restless mind, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to relax. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed since their return from the honeymoon, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.

Sliding into the tub, she let the water envelop her, its heat seeping into her muscles and washing away the tension that had been building all day. Her thoughts drifted aimlessly, eventually settling on Zylan. Where had he gone? Was he out, or somewhere in the mansion, brooding as usual?

She sighed softly, her fingers tracing absent patterns on the surface of the water. It wasn’t long before she finished her bath, cleaning her body and slipping into a thin, silky nightgown. The fabric clung to her skin as she stepped out of the bathroom, her hair still slightly wet as it cascaded over her shoulders she toweled dried it.

Drawn to the window, Naomi wandered over and gazed out at the night sky. The stars were breathtakingly beautiful, their light shimmering against the darkness like scattered jewels. A cool breeze drifted through the open window, brushing against her skin and sending a shiver down her spine.

Her mind lingered on Rose’s words from earlier. Was she really beginning to develop feelings for him? No, that couldn’t be right. She hated him—didn’t she? He was cold, heartless, and so infuriatingly impossible to understand. And yet...

Why did it feel like she was trying to convince herself not to fall for him?

Naomi sighed, her breath fogging the glass of the window. She didn’t even realize how long she had been standing there until a sudden thought struck her. She wasn’t just looking at the stars. Deep down, she had been hoping to see him.

As the realization sank in, Naomi shook her head, frustrated with herself. She turned away from the window, intending to head to bed and put her thoughts to rest. But before she could take a single step, she felt a strong arm wrap around her waist, pulling her into a firm, warm embrace.

Her breath caught in her throat. That scent—familiar, intoxicating—left no doubt in her mind.

It was him.

Naomi froze, her heart pounding as Zylan’s presence enveloped her. She had no idea how long he had been standing there or how he had even entered the room without her noticing.

Before she could turn to face him, his voice murmured softly in her ear. "Eaglet, don’t... Stay here for a while."

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt her cheeks flush. His warm breath brushed against her neck, making her skin tingle. She stayed still, unsure of what to do or say.

"Your skin is cold," he said, his tone tinged with displeasure. His arms tightened around her slightly, as if trying to shield her from the night’s chill. "Why wear such thin clothing?"

"I... I just w-wanted to see the sky," she stammered, her voice barely audible.

Zylan sighed, his grip remaining firm as he gently turned her to face him. His sharp eyes dropped to her lips, noticing how pale they were from the cold.

"Fu—" He bit back a curse, his jaw tightening as he fought to rein in his frustration. Naomi was nervously biting her lip, a habit he found both endearing and infuriating.

"Don’t," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Before Naomi could react, he leaned in, his lips pressing softly against hers. The warmth of his touch startled her, chasing away the lingering chill that had seeped into her skin.

Her heart raced as he pulled back, his expression unreadable. Without a word, he scooped her into his arms effortlessly, as though she weighed nothing.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as Zylan carried her, his movements smooth and deliberate. With one hand, he shut the window, sealing out the cold night air.

Naomi’s cheeks flushed as he settled on the bed, still holding her in his arms. She felt like a child being cradled by a protective parent, and the thought made her squirm slightly.

"I can—" she began, her voice uncertain, but he cut her off.

"Be quiet. You’re freezing. Let me keep you warm."

His words carried a finality that made it clear she had no room to argue.

Naomi blinked, her lips parting slightly as she tried to process the moment. This side of Zylan—gentle, protective—was so unlike the cold, aloof man she thought she knew. It left her both confused and intrigued.

After a moment of silence, Naomi hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. "Um... during the game, we played at the cruise ship you said you had, um... consummated before. Is..." Her throat tightened, and she struggled to get the words out. "Is she the reason why you can’t...?"

Zylan froze, his face turning blank before he slowly looked at her, his emotions masked beneath a stoic facade.

"Sleep. It’s already late," he said, his tone firm yet carrying an underlying edge of vulnerability.

"But I want to know..." Naomi persisted, her voice quieter now, laced with hesitation. She sighed, as if trying to bargain with herself, before adding, "Okay, fine. I’ll sleep if you tell me."

Her lips curved into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Zylan could sense it—the faint tremble in her voice, the masked ache beneath her words. This eaglet of his... her stubbornness was growing with each passing day, and for once, it left him at a loss.

"Yes," he finally said, his voice tight, clipped, as though the word itself was a painful admission.

Before Naomi could respond, he reached out, his hand brushing against her face. He gently covered her eyes, his touch both protective and vulnerable, as if shielding her from the raw pain that momentarily flickered across his own.

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken truths and guarded emotions. Naomi felt the warmth of his palm against her skin, the way his fingers lingered before retreating, and she knew that whatever she had asked had struck a nerve.

When he removed his hand, she hesitated, her mind racing with questions. The air between them felt charged, as though they were teetering on the edge of something deeper, something she couldn’t yet name.

"Was she your first love?" she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to break the fragile moment between them.

Zylan’s expression darkened at her words. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might lash out. But instead, his voice—when it came—was surprisingly gentle, softer than she had ever heard it.

"Naomi, no more questions. Now sleep."

His tone left no room for argument, but it wasn’t cold. It carried a strange warmth, a quiet plea, as though he wanted to protect her from the answers she sought.

For someone who usually exuded icy command whenever Noelle’s name was brought up, this moment was strikingly different. A flicker of humanity, of buried pain, glimmered in his eyes before he turned away, leaving Naomi to wonder just how much of himself he had hidden from the world.