Back on the cruise ship, Naomi laid on the bed, her body nestled comfortably beneath the soft sheets. Beside her, Zylan rested on his back, his arm draped over his forehead as his sharp eyes stared at the ceiling. His posture seed relaxed, but his mind was anything but. His other hand was firmly clasped in Naomi’s, and while he knew she was fast asleep, her grip had a surprising strength to it.
She had insisted earlier that he stay by her side. However, unbeknownst to her, she had grabbed his hand tightly in her sleep, holding onto it as though it were a lifeline or a makeshift teddy bear. The gesture was both endearing and frustrating, leaving Zylan in an uncharacteristically flustered state.
He shifted slightly, trying to adjust his position without disturbing her. But the more he tried to pull away, the tighter her grasp beca, as though her subconscious was refusing to let him go. Eventually, with a resigned sigh, he decided to remain still. The last thing he wanted was to wake her up prematurely, especially since she had only just begun to recover from the chaos of the past few days.
Naomi needed this rest more than anything. The dication she had taken after their al had left her drowsy, lulling her into a deep, peaceful slumber. Her expression was serene, free from the worry and tension that had plagued her earlier. Zylan knew she had been under imnse stress—discovering the truth about him had been too much for her to process all at once.
He hadn’t ant for her to find out this way. He had planned to wait for the right mont, to explain everything when she was ready to hear it. But fate had intervened, and now the carefully laid plans in his mind were unraveling before his eyes.
Still, amidst the storm of emotions he felt, there was one thing he was grateful for—she hadn’t outright demanded a divorce. He had seen the contemplation in her eyes earlier, the way she seed to weigh her options. Her hesitance gave him a flicker of hope, albeit a faint one. He couldn’t deny that she had considered leaving him, likely from the mont they boarded the plane. Yet, for now, she remained by his side, and he clung to that fragile thread of hope like a lifeline.
As he lay there, his thoughts swirling, Zylan felt a slight movent beside him. Naomi stirred in her sleep, her body shifting closer to his. Her grip on his hand loosened just a little, though her fingers still rested against his skin.
Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing a hazy, unfocused gaze. She seed caught between the realm of sleep and wakefulness, her drowsy eyes struggling to adjust to the dim light in the room. For a mont, she simply looked at him, her expression unreadable. Then, as though driven by so instinctive need for comfort, she moved closer to him, her warmth pressing against his side.
Before Zylan could react, her hands reached out, wrapping around his neck in a loose embrace. The action caught him completely off guard, and his body stiffened in response. He opened his mouth to say sothing, to gently wake her and guide her back to her side of the bed, but the words caught in his throat.
She pulled herself closer, her head resting against his chest as her soft breaths tickled his skin. Zylan’s heart raced, his pulse hamring in his ears as he tried to make sense of the situation. He reminded himself that she wasn’t fully awake, that she was likely caught in the haze of a dream. But even that knowledge did little to calm the storm of emotions swirling within him.
And then, before he knew it, Naomi shifted again. This ti, she moved on top of him, her slight fra pressing against his as if he were a makeshift mattress. Zylan’s eyes widened in shock, his breath hitching as he felt her warmth seep through the thin fabric of their clothing.
"Naomi," he murmured, his voice low and strained.
But she didn’t respond. Her eyes were half-closed, her expression soft and sleepy as she murmured his na. "Zylan," she whispered, her voice slow and drowsy.
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously as he struggled to maintain control. The proximity was overwhelming, her presence both intoxicating and maddening. He wanted to wake her, to put so distance between them before things spiraled further out of control. But the way she moved—soft and deliberate, yet entirely unconscious—left him frozen in place.
To his utter disbelief, she leaned in closer, her face now nestled against the curve of his neck. Her breath was warm against his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Zylan clenched his jaw, willing himself to remain calm despite the chaos raging within him.
And then, as if guided by so unseen force, Naomi’s gaze drifted to his Adam’s apple. A slow, mischievous smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and before Zylan could even process what was happening, he felt the warm, wet touch of her tongue against his skin.
The sensation was startling, sending a jolt through his entire body. Zylan let out a low groan, a mix of frustration and restraint as he fought to keep himself in check. This isn’t real, he told himself firmly. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.
But her movents made it increasingly difficult to hold on to that thought. The way she licked his Adam’s apple—slow and deliberate, as though savoring the act—made his resolve falter. It was as if she were testing his limits, though he knew she wasn’t fully aware of her actions.
When her teeth grazed the sensitive spot, applying the lightest pressure, Zylan’s control slipped even further. His breath ca in shallow, uneven bursts as he grappled with the overwhelming sensations coursing through him.
"Naomi," he said again, his voice a desperate whisper.
But she didn’t respond. Instead, she placed a hand on his chest, her touch light and tentative. She licked him again, her actions more deliberate this ti, as though guided by so vivid dream.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, her body relaxed completely. Her breathing evened out, and she drifted back into a deep sleep, her head resting comfortably against his chest.
Zylan let out a shaky sigh, relief washing over him as he realized she was no longer moving. But the tension in his body remained, his nerves still on edge from the unexpected encounter.
"Damn it, Naomi," he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with a mix of exasperation and amusent.
He glanced down at her, his gaze softening despite himself. She looked so peaceful, her features relaxed in the embrace of sleep. It was hard to believe that just monts ago, she had been the source of such chaos within him.
What am I going to do with you, little Eaglet? he thought, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
He let his head fall back against the pillow, his thoughts a jumble of frustration, amusent, and sothing else he couldn’t quite na. Naomi had always had a way of throwing him off balance, of making him feel things he wasn’t used to feeling. And that mont was no exception.
As he lay there, her soft, even breathing tickling his neck, Zylan couldn’t help but chuckle quietly. It was a low, rumbling sound, quiet enough not to disturb her.
"Damn this eaglet," he murmured, the words barely audible. "Damn, damn, damn."
She was completely oblivious to the turmoil she had caused within him, lost in her dream world while he was left to endure the tornt of her warmth and proximity. And yet, despite everything, he couldn’t help the faint smirk that lingered on his lips.
What am I going to do with you? he thought again, his gaze unreadable amusing as he looked down at her sleeping form. For now, all he could do was wait, trapped beneath her, at the rcy of her unconscious whims.
Zylan lay there quietly, his hand moving to Naomi’s hair. He began to caress it gently, running his fingers through the strands in a slow, thodical motion, as if trying to distract himself from the overwhelming weight of the situation. His thoughts wandered to the past, to mories he had long buried.
He had often wondered why he had chosen Naomi that day, when she had mistaken his actions for a suicide attempt. He hadn’t planned for any of this, yet here she was, tangled in his world, her presence both a comfort and a complication. Why had he wanted her to stay with him? Was it because of her—her warmth, her humanity, her vulnerability? Or was it because Naomi reminded him of soone else?
But that wasn’t possible. Naomi wasn’t her. The woman from his past was long gone. Dead. Naomi was different, in every way. Naomi was human, while Noelle... Noelle had been a vampire, like him. The contrast was stark, yet the similarities in their appearances unsettled him. Naomi’s golden-blonde hair, the way it shimred in the light—it reminded him too much of Noelle. He couldn’t quite explain it, but sothing about Naomi struck him in the deepest corners of his soul.
Why did they have similar features? His mind kept circling back to that question. Why did she remind him so much of Noelle? Was it just a coincidence, or was sothing else at play?
For a long mont, Zylan was silent, lost in thought. He stared at Naomi’s golden hair, wondering if there was so hidden connection he had yet to understand. But it wasn’t just her appearance that haunted him—it was the feeling, the inexplicable pull he felt toward her. He wanted to push it away, to bury it deep, but it lingered, like an unanswered question.
Finally, as if testing the sound of the na, Zylan spoke softly into the quiet room.
"Noelle."
The na felt foreign on his tongue, a na he hadn’t spoken in nearly a century. The weight of it brought a painful sting, a reminder of everything he had lost.
Reviews
All reviews (0)