My Vampire Beloved Husband
Chapter 98: You want it I’ll Get It

Chapter 98: You want it I’ll Get It

No one needed to tell her that Zylan was dead serious.

Naomi fell silent, her thoughts swirling as his intense expression softened, melting into something unreadable.

She couldn’t tell if he was warning her about something... or warning her about himself. That thought made her chest tighten. She bit her lip, determined not to let her mind spiral.

Overthinking never led anywhere good. She knew better than to let her imagination create problems where none existed—or at least where she hoped none existed.

Her gaze darted around the room in search of a distraction. It landed on a wall-mounted calendar, the neat rows of days staring back at her as if mocking her restless thoughts. Before she could get lost in her musings, the maid returned, carrying a towel and a pair of shoes.

Naomi’s eyes flicked to the shoes in the maid’s hands—a pair of light-green flats, simple yet elegant, perfectly matching her dress. Her lips parted slightly in surprise. Clearly, the maid had understood Zylan’s instructions.

Zylan’s low voice broke through her haze. "Your feet."

Her eyes snapped to him just as he knelt before her.

"What are you—?" Naomi froze, her words catching in her throat as he gently lifted one of her legs.

She watched in stunned silence, her heart thundering as he began cleaning her feet. His touch was slow, deliberate, and almost reverent. Each motion was measured, as though he feared she might shatter beneath his hands. She held her breath, unsure of what to say—or if she should say anything at all.

This was new. Too new.

No one had ever treated her like this before, with such... care.

Her fingers clenched the fabric of her dress as she tried to steady herself. She didn’t trust her voice, nor the unfamiliar feelings stirring in her chest.

When he moved to her other foot, Naomi’s eyes lingered on him. She couldn’t help but notice how focused he was, as if this simple act required his full attention. It was strange—disarming even. For someone as commanding and powerful as Zylan, this felt impossibly intimate.

The maid, still standing nearby, remained silent until Zylan’s voice broke through again.

"Drop it."

The words were curt, yet his tone held an edge of firmness. The maid bowed respectfully, placing the shoes on the marble floor before retreating quietly.

Naomi stayed frozen, her mind struggling to catch up with what had just transpired.

As Zylan slipped the shoes onto her feet, his hands brushing against her skin, a loud growl shattered the silence.

Her stomach.

Naomi’s eyes widened in embarrassment, and she instinctively pressed a hand to her midsection. Heat rushed to her face as she turned away, desperately trying to hide her shame.

Zylan’s chuckle broke the tension, low and rich. She peeked at him through her lashes, only to find him extending a hand toward her.

For a moment, she hesitated. Then, slowly, she placed her hand in his. His grip was firm yet gentle, and as he helped her to her feet, she felt her legs wobble.

She stumbled slightly, and Zylan caught her with ease, his strong arms steadying her.

Naomi squeezed her eyes shut in humiliation. ’Seriously? You forgot how to walk because he carried you?’

Her inner voice scolded her relentlessly, but there was no denying the truth: her body seemed to have already grown accustomed to relying on him. The realization sent a strange flutter through her chest, a mix of frustration and something she couldn’t quite name.

Was this what being spoiled felt like?

And then, just to torment her further, her stomach growled again.

Naomi groaned inwardly, her cheeks burning as she dropped her gaze to the floor.

"The food will get cold," she mumbled, her words rushed and flustered as she hurried toward the dining room.

Behind her, Zylan chuckled again, the sound deep and amused, as he followed her.

The dining room was just as grand as ever, its long table gleaming beneath the glow of an ornate chandelier. Rows of polished chairs stood like silent sentinels, their reflections dancing on the marble floor.

Naomi slid into her seat, grateful for the chance to compose herself. She dabbed at her lips with her napkin, trying to focus on her meal instead of the man sitting across from her.

The clinking of cutlery filled the quiet room, a rhythmic melody that did little to ease her restless mind.

Out of nowhere, a thought surfaced—a small spark of whimsy in the midst of her turmoil.

"I want a pet," she blurted out, the words escaping her lips before she could think twice.

She glanced at Zylan, who had paused mid-bite. His dark eyes flicked to hers, his expression unreadable.

"I don’t know," she continued, her voice softer now, almost shy. "I just... want one." She hesitated before adding, "I need a companion."

For a moment, there was silence. Then Zylan’s expression darkened.

"I am your companion," he said firmly, his tone carrying a weight that left no room for argument.

Naomi blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his voice. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but the mansion could feel so unbearably empty when he wasn’t around.

She dropped her gaze, focusing on the delicate patterns etched into her plate. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything.

The soft clink of cutlery filled the room again, and Naomi tried to immerse herself in the rhythm of the meal. The chefs bowed and quietly excused themselves, leaving her and Zylan alone.

Moments later, the door creaked open, and Naomi looked up to see Rylan enter the room. His dark eyes flicked between her and Zylan, and the two men exchanged a look—one that felt heavier than words.

Naomi tilted her head, curiosity sparking. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something unspoken passed between them. Was it a vampire ability? Some kind of silent communication she wasn’t privy to?

Before she could think too deeply about it, Rylan’s eyes widened slightly, as if he realized she was watching.

Her stomach tightened. He knows.

And then, Zylan stood, his chair scraping against the floor gently as he broke the silence.

"We are leaving," he announced, his voice cutting through the stillness.

Naomi’s shoulders slumped. Of course. He was leaving again.

She tried to squash the pang of disappointment blooming in her chest, but it lingered stubbornly. What right did she have to expect him to stay? Zylan had responsibilities—things she couldn’t even begin to understand. She was just... Naomi.

But then, to her surprise, he turned to her.

"Eaglet," he said softly, his voice carrying a gentleness that made her heart skip a beat.

She lifted her head, meeting his gaze.

"You’re coming with me," he said.

Her lips parted in confusion. "Huh?"

Zylan’s lips curved into a faint smirk. "You need a pet," he said, his tone light yet commanding. "Let’s go get you one."

Her mouth fell open, the words sinking in slowly. "A-A pet?"

"Yes," he replied simply, already walking toward the door.

Naomi scrambled to her feet, her heart racing. She hurried after him, trying to suppress the flutter of excitement in her chest.

As soon as Naomi entered the car, the chauffeur gently closed the door behind her. Moments later, the car rolled forward, gliding smoothly down the long driveway.

The interior of the car was luxurious yet somehow understated, with plush leather seats and soft ambient lighting that made the ride feel more intimate. Naomi glanced at Zylan, who sat beside her, his posture relaxed yet commanding. His gaze was fixed on some distant point outside the window, his expression calm yet tense, as though he were lost in a labyrinth of thoughts.

She tilted her head slightly, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

What could he possibly be thinking about to make him look so serious?

The rhythmic hum of the car filled the silence, but Naomi found herself focusing on him instead. The way the faint light from the passing streetlamps played across his features was mesmerizing. His strong jawline, the faint shadow of stubble, and those piercing eyes—it was impossible not to notice the subtle pull he had over her.

After a moment of hesitation, she spoke softly, her voice almost hesitant. "You changed your mind."

Zylan turned to her, his expression shifting as a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "You were sulking and pouting," he said, his tone teasing yet firm. "You wanted it, so I’ll get it."

Naomi’s cheeks flushed at his words. Sulking? Pouting? She hadn’t realized she’d been doing that. Embarrassment bubbled inside her, and she quickly averted her gaze, pretending to be engrossed in the view outside. The passing city lights blurred into streaks of gold and white, a perfect distraction from the heat creeping up her neck.

But no matter how much she tried to focus elsewhere, his words lingered.

You wanted it, so I’ll get it.

The way he said it, so effortlessly, with such certainty—it sent an unexpected warmth spreading through her chest. No one had ever made her feel so... seen.

The silence between them stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

Her cheeks warmed further as Zylan’s intense gaze shifted elsewhere, giving her a moment to catch her breath. She hadn’t realized how lost in her thoughts she’d been, the excitement bubbling within her as she pondered the possibilities.

"So..." she began, breaking the silence, her tone filled with curiosity. "What are you going to get me? Is it a cat? A dog? A fish?"

Her mind raced, imagining all the potential pets he might choose for her. Would it be something small and cuddly, like a rabbit or a kitten? Or perhaps something unique and exotic—a parrot, maybe, or even a tiny, colorful lizard?

She couldn’t help but wonder, the anticipation growing by the second.

Zylan remained quiet for a moment, his expression unreadable. His gaze shifted slightly, as if he were deliberating his answer.

Finally, he spoke, his deep voice resonating with a promise. "You don’t have to worry."

His eyes flicked to hers, and the faintest trace of a smirk danced on his lips. "I’m going to get you something special."

Naomi blinked, her curiosity only deepening. "Special? Like what?"

He didn’t answer right away, his attention drifting back to the window. For a moment, she thought he might leave her question unanswered entirely. But then he turned to her, his gaze steady and filled with an intensity that made her breath hitch.

"Very special," he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that sent shivers down her spine.