Vampire's Veil Of Obsession-Chapter 97: Your Hands

Under the starless night, Lilia sat in silence, staring blankly at the thin air. A week had passed, yet Zethan had not returned. She would be lying if she said she didn’t miss him.

She had convinced herself to pull back, to stop growing so attached. Yet, the more she tried to distance herself, the more she yearned for him.

For the past three days, she had done the same thing—sitting there in silence, lost in thought. The wind drifted through the open window, sending a chill across her pale skin. Her inky black hair swept to the side as she slowly blinked, trapped in the endless cycle of waiting.

She pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them loosely. How pathetic was she? Sitting here every night, waiting, like some desperate fool. Zethan had never asked her to wait for him—never even hinted that he expected her to—but she couldn’t help herself. The empty space he left behind was suffocating.

With a deep breath, she stood up. Her fingers brushed against the small table as she reached for a random book—any book—just to force her mind elsewhere. If she kept thinking, she would only overthink. If she kept yearning, she would only ache more.

Her hands trembled slightly as she opened the book, but the words blurred together. The letters might as well have been ink stains rather than sentences.

She swallowed.

Then, softly, she parted her lips.

"A...E...I...O...U."

The sounds barely carried through the room, but they were enough.

She had been silent for too long. The moment her voice broke through the quiet, she let out a small breath. Had it really been this bad? That she needed to test if her own voice was still intact?

She shook her head, willing herself not to dwell on it. Instead, she returned to her spot by the window, ignoring the cold. The only sound that filled the quiet night was the soft rustling of pages as she read.

And then—

The door opened.

Lilia’s body stilled.

No one needed to tell her who had entered. No one was there to confirm what her heart already knew. No one was there to say his name.

Yet she felt it.

The weight of his presence. The sound of his measured steps against the marble floor.

Her heart pounded. She refused to turn around, even though she knew. She told herself it wasn’t him. And yet, she told herself it was.

It was that she knew it was him but could not believe it—so she tried to convince herself otherwise.

Then, she felt his hands—his large, warm hands—resting on her cold, bare shoulder.

Zethan’s body tensed at the chill of her skin. His face darkened as he tilted her chin up, forcing her golden brown eyes to meet his.

"Why are you in the cold?" he asked, his voice quiet.

Lilia did not answer. She simply gazed at him, her expression unreadable.

Zethan studied her, then said nothing as he gently took the book from her hands.

And before she could react, he scooped her into his arms.

Gently, he closed the window, wrapping his warmth around her like a shield against the night’s chill. For a moment, he simply held her, as if trying to transfer his heat into her frozen frame.

Lilia’s heart drummed, even though she tried to act indifferent. His scent—the one she had missed so much—was now wrapped around her cozily.

She shut her eyes for a brief second, savoring it. But then she opened them again, reminding herself not to be weak.

Without a word, he carried her to the bed and laid her down.

Lilia remained silent.

A slow, deep smirk formed on Zethan’s lips. He leaned closer, his voice laced with amusement.

"It seems you didn’t even miss your husband."

Meanwhile, her husband had missed her so much that he had shortened a three-week plan to just one—just to return to her sooner.

To his surprise, she quietly sat up and spoke.

"Welcome home."

His eyes darkened, pupils dilating slightly.

"I already informed you the last time you came home," she continued, her voice steady. "If you arrive late, you’ll be punished."

Zethan stilled. ’Was that so?’ His body tensed with an unfamiliar thrill, a strange excitement stirring within him despite his usual serious demeanor.

"It’s been a week," she went on, her tone unwavering. "Not to mention, it’s midnight, and you left your dear wife waiting—longing for you, my dear husband."

He froze.

Longing?

Had she just used that particular word?

"You didn’t even tell me directly that you were leaving," she accused. "You sent my assistant instead. And let me tell you something, Mr. Zethan—it’s not the same. You left me hanging. Not just for a week, but you also never mentioned having a personal doctor. To make it worse, you left my question unanswered—about that woman."

Zethan remained silent, listening.

"And another thing." She exhaled sharply, standing up and pacing before turning back to face him. "I’ve been trying to wrap my head around something—how to pinpoint the fact that you’re a vampire, Mr. Zethan."

His eyes flickered with surprise, but he stayed quiet as she approached, walking towards him where he still stood, leaving barely an inch between them.

Her head tilted up to meet his gaze. Her pointer finger pushed against his chest, yet he stayed unmoving, as if waiting—perhaps even curious—to see where this would lead.

"As I said before, you’ll be punished. And I’ll be the one to do it. I’ll be in control tonight."

A charged silence settled between them.

"But before that," she added, stepping closer, "I want answers."

She raised her hand, cupping his face. Her fingers traced his jaw as their gazes locked. He remained silent. Then, she stopped at his lips, grazing them lightly.

Zethan remained still, startled by the composure—the confidence—his once-docile wife was beginning to exude.

"Is she also a vampire?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "Yes."

She smiled faintly. "So that means... I’m the only human here?"

"No," he said.

She shifted slightly as Zethan walked towards the bed and sat. Lilia followed him. freewebnσvel.cѳm

Her smile deepened as she leaned in, arms draping around his neck. He sat motionless on the bed while she positioned herself between his legs.

"As I said," she murmured, "your punishment starts tonight. You have thirty minutes. Would you like to unwind with a bath before I begin?"

Zethan simply stared at her, stunned. He hadn’t expected any of this.

Lilia stepped back. "Go on," she urged.

His curiosity burned hotter. What was she planning? What kind of punishment could his innocent wife possibly have in store?

Without another word, he rose and went to bathe.

Yet, despite her serious tone, he couldn’t ignore the excitement thrumming beneath his skin.

In fact, he had been too speechless to speak. This new side of her... he was loving it.

He entered the bathroom, stripping off his clothes.

Zethan stood beneath the shower, the cold water cascading over him, yet it did nothing to cool the fire burning inside him. He couldn’t believe it. Despite the icy sensation against his skin, excitement bubbled wildly within him like fire from within.

He groaned, running a hand through his wet hair, startled by just how much her demeanor had affected him.

Finishing his shower, he stepped out, water dripping down his toned frame as he towel-dried it.

Without hesitation, he quickly slipped into a sleek black pajama set, the silk cool against his heated skin, before stepping out of the bathroom—anticipation thrumming through his veins.

The moment Zethan stepped out, Lilia was already sitting on the bed, holding a blindfold and a belt.

His steps faltered.

His sharp gaze locked onto her, and for a brief moment, it felt as if ice water had been poured over him.

’Where did she learn this?’

Lilia turned to him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise before she quickly masked it. "Come on, honey. Sit," she murmured, a quiet sniffle escaping her lips.

Zethan hesitated, his sharp gaze scanning her face as if searching for something—hesitation, or something else. But there was nothing, only that unreadable expression she wore so well. Then, as if compelled by an unseen force, he moved, lowering himself onto the bed.

"Your hands," she instructed softly.

Instead of obeying, Zethan reached for her, his fingers brushing along the delicate curve of her jaw. His touch was gentle, yet there was something dangerous in the way he leaned in. His voice, a low murmur, carried an edge that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Lilia," he whispered. "Tell me—who taught you this?"

To his surprise, she giggled, the sound light and unbothered. "You always say practice makes perfect," she mused. "What if I told you... I’ve been practicing?"

His fingers flexed against her skin before tightening slightly, his jaw clenching. "With who?" The question came soft but sharp, laced with something dark.

Lilia met his gaze head-on, her own steady, unreadable. His irises burned with restrained fury, a dangerous flicker of jealousy, possessiveness—something primal. Veins tensed beneath his skin.

And yet, she didn’t flinch. Instead, her lips curved into a knowing smile, teasing and unfazed.

"That," she purred, her smirk deepening, "I won’t disclose."

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, she lifted the belt in her hands, tilting her head slightly.

"Now... give me your hands, honey. I’m not that patient."