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Dawn.
Alarviana's Chambers
Wyfkeep Castle, Wyfellon.
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Morning arrived, and a soft knock on the door interrupted the quiet of the newlyweds sleep.
The maids had come to ready Salviana for the day earlier, but Alaric sent them away without hesitation.
However, they returned shortly after with breakfast, and this time, he couldn't refuse.
Salviana's stomach betrayed her with a loud grumble at the exact moment, drawing an amused smirk from Alaric who had been holding her back in bed.
"Stay in bed, under the blankets," Alaric instructed, his tone firm yet gentle. Salviana obeyed, pulling the covers tightly around herself as he allowed the maids to enter.
They moved about the room swiftly, placing the food on a nearby table. Meanwhile, Salviana remained cocooned in the bed, cheeks warming with sudden shyness.
She couldn't shake the feeling that the maids somehow knew what had transpired the night before.
Once they left, Alaric turned his attention back to her, his gaze softening. "Go on, I know you need to use the bathroom," he teased making her redden.
Salviana slipped out of bed, heading to freshen up. She cleaned her teeth, relieved herself, and attempted to tame her hair.
It was wilder than she had ever seen it, and she wondered what on earth had caused such chaos.
When she returned, her hair was pulled up into a neat bun, but Alaric immediately frowned at the sight.
"I don't want it tied up," he said simply. "I like it as it is. Let it down."
Her lips parted to protest, she didn't feel pretty with the tangled hair down, but his steady gaze left no room for argument. With a resigned sigh, she pulled the pins free, letting her hair fall loose. Alaric's satisfied grin was worth her mild annoyance.
He patted her hair like she has never done anything sweeter before now, then he whispered, "You look pretty anyhow but I think you look prettier like this"
"My hair needs to be thoroughly brushed,"
"I'll do it for you after you eat," he declared and she wasn't surprised by his caring gesture as she would've been in the first days of her arrival here.
Salviana blushed as she took her seat across from him, smoothing her robe as she began to eat. The morning air was calm, but the energy between them felt undeniably different, as though last night had changed everything.
And for once, Salviana found she didn't mind.
"You're not hungry?" Salviana asked, pausing mid-bite when she noticed Alaric hadn't touched his food. She, on the other hand, was absolutely starving.
"I am," Alaric replied, his voice low.
Her frown deepened, her thoughts immediately jumping to his vampiric nature.
Did he not want human food?
She knew he couldn't taste it but it'll still help his body. Or perhaps… was he still weak from the battlefield?
She knew he might need more blood to regain his full strength.
Sure, he had fed last night, but surely that wasn't enough. A pang of sympathy struck her.
Alaric recognized the look on her face and quickly reached out, taking her palm in his. "Don't pity me," he said, his tone firm but gentle.
"Why is your reply fluctuating?" she teased, narrowing her eyes in mock annoyance.
"I'm hungry, but not for food," he added, his lips quirking into a devilish grin.
"What then?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
"You," he bellowed, his voice sending a shiver down her spine.
Salviana's face turned crimson. "You need blood?!" she screeched, her mind racing.
Could she still give him more? Was she even capable of it so soon?
"No," he assured her, chuckling. "I'm full from the battlefield." His lips curled into a smirk. "Though, if I had the choice, I'd drink only yours."
Her chest tightened at his words, but before she could reply, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a sinful whisper. "What I really wish is to bury my face between your thighs again."
Salviana's eyes widened, and she choked on the bite of food she'd just taken, coughing and spluttering.
"Alaric!" she scolded, glaring at him through her flustered haze.
He laughed softly, unfazed by her reaction. Reaching out, he dabbed her mouth with a handkerchief, his touch lingering just long enough to make her heart race.
Then, to her surprise, he picked up her spoon.
"If you're going to keep getting distracted, I might as well feed you myself," he teased, bringing the spoon to her lips.
"You talk as though you're not the distraction," she glared at him.
Reluctantly, she accepted the bite, her cheeks still burning. As the meal continued, Alaric fed her with care, his gaze never leaving her face.
Between bites, he leaned close to murmur filthy sweet nothings, leaving her flustered and blushing.
By the time breakfast reached middle, Salviana wasn't sure what left her more breathless—his teasing or the way he looked at her, as though she was the only thing in the world he'd ever hunger for.
She also hungered for him, she wish she could say but she was too shy.
Salviana had barely finished her last bite of breakfast when Alaric, ever the possessive husband, had swept her off her feet and carried her back to bed.
His strength and ease in handling her made her heart race, but she wasn't surprised—this was Alaric, after all.
Now, as she lay tucked under the blankets, his arms wrapped snugly around her waist, she sighed in mock frustration. "Alaric, I have to go," she murmured, though her voice betrayed how much she enjoyed being in his arms.
"No," he growled softly, pressing his face into her neck. "Stay. Just for today. I want you here, in my arms, where you belong."
She chuckled, her fingers brushing through his midnight-black hair. "You're being dramatic again."
"Dramatic?" He leaned back just enough to look at her, his striking eyes narrowing. "I've just returned from war, Salviana. I nearly lost my mind missing you, and after last night…"