Having been caught watching him sleep, Salviana shivered, her breath hitching as she whispered, "You fell asleep."
As a vampire, Alaric's connection to sleep had always been tenuous, an old habit he could never truly indulge.
Night creatures didn't rest in the same way as mortals; their bodies were woven to the nocturnal rhythm, their senses tuned to thrive in the shadows.
The luxury of sleep was foreign to him, just an odd, rare interlude when the world faded into quiet. Since Salviana's arrival, though, even those scant hours had eluded him.
Her presence stirred something unfamiliar in him, a strange disquiet that made his mind restless and his body tense with awareness.
Most nights he lay there beside her, eyes tracing the soft rise and fall of her breath, entranced by the gentle innocence in her sleeping form.
She rested like someone untouched by the darkness, so serene that even he, with his honed instincts and restless spirit, couldn't help but find a curious peace in her presence.
Her scent—a warm, delicate fragrance—hung like a comforting mist in the air, seeping into his senses, grounding him in a way he didn't understand.
He felt a pull to close his eyes, to let himself drift if only to savor the calm that seemed to radiate from her.
And tonight, the rare gift of sleep had surprised him. It had been a mere nap, brief yet profound, and for the first time in what felt like centuries, Alaric had fallen into a soft, unburdened rest.
The dark warmth of his office had cocooned him, her scent lingering faintly on the edges of his mind, soothing him enough to pull him into slumber.
But he was awake now, roused by her light footsteps, and he didn't mind the interruption. As his gaze met hers, he saw her surprise at finding him so peaceful, as if she hadn't imagined he could ever be.
He felt a pang of affection that softened his usual cool demeanor.
The world around them may have been designed for the light, a relentless rhythm of day and night he could never fully align with, but here, now, with Salviana close enough to quiet his restless thoughts, he found a glimpse of harmony he'd never known.
Yes, he'd sleep little tonight, if at all. But her presence here, so near, felt like a balm to his tired soul—a silent promise of respite in a world he could never quite belong to.
He didn't answer her comment about him sleeping; instead, his gaze traveled slowly down her form, lingering as though he were seeing her for the first time. "You look exquisite," he murmured, his voice rich and smooth.
Surprised, she glanced down at herself, uncertain of how he could be so generous with his compliment.
She'd always found the dresses here ill-fitting, as though they didn't quite belong to her, yet something in his gaze made her feel she wore them well.
Her cheeks warmed with a soft blush as she managed, "Thank you."
"You're here earlier than the past few days," she noted, her voice tentative.
"I had nothing more to attend to today," he replied, his gaze still steady on her. "Besides, you haunted me."
She looked at him, a small frown crossing her features. "Haunted you? How?"
Alaric's lips lifted slightly, eyes narrowing with a hint of intensity. "I wanted to see you," he admitted without hesitation, his voice low and certain.
Salviana responded with a faint, wry smile, an expression that seemed to sharpen his attention.
His posture straightened, the warmth in his expression replaced by something steely. "Spit it out," he growled, sensing a tension between them he hadn't anticipated.
"What?" She raised a brow, feigning innocence.
"Whatever it is that's upsetting you," he said firmly, the quiet command in his tone coaxing her to share, as if he wouldn't let her leave until she did.
The space between them seemed to grow charged, each moment drawing them closer yet holding them apart.
"A lot did," Salviana admitted after a beat of silence. Her voice was soft, but her words lingered with the weight of unspoken thoughts.
Alaric nodded, his gaze unwavering. "I'm here now, and I'm listening," he assured her, his tone gentler than before.
"Why did you come early today?" she asked, almost timidly. There was something fragile in her voice, as if she feared the answer.
He blinked, considering her question before replying honestly, "I wanted to see you earlier than I did at night."
Salviana's fingers fidgeted, twining nervously around each other. Her eyes dropped, and after a pause, she spoke in a hesitant voice. "What about… your girls? Didn't you want to see them too?"
A faint smile played on Alaric's lips as he watched her closely, his gaze both warm and slightly amused. "My girls?" he repeated, an eyebrow arched in mild surprise.
She nodded, her cheeks coloring with embarrassment. "Yes. I… heard you're rather popular among the ladies," she murmured, glancing up at him briefly, her face tinged with a hint of jealousy.
His soft chuckle filled the room, rich and unexpectedly tender. Her face flushed deeper under his steady gaze, and she felt a strange warmth rise within her, a mix of vulnerability and longing.
His laugh was beautiful, rich from not being done frequently. She realized, she would embarrass herself a few more times if it meant he would laugh this beautifully. Or was she being too much?
She quickly looked away, hoping he hadn't noticed, but Alaric's perceptive eyes missed nothing. He caught the appreciation in her gaze and if he could he would laugh more often.
"Do you know what being 'popular among the ladies' actually means?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement yet gentle, as if coaxing a confession out of her.
Her brow furrowed slightly, and though her voice was firmer now, she let out a quiet, uncertain answer. "That… you've been with many ladies intimately," she muttered, "and that you've… found pleasure countless times, maybe even with two ladies at once." Her lips pursed in a little pout as if the very thought annoyed her, and Alaric felt his heart soften at her honesty.
She looked almost childlike in her jealousy, and he had to resist the urge to pull her into his arms right then.