Ivory stepped back in fear, her heart racing as Lucian walked towards her in a trance-like state, his eyes fixed on her with an unnerving intensity. It was as if he couldn't see anything else, his gaze tunnel-visioned on her alone. She tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat as Lucian suddenly pounced on her, his fangs extended, ready to strike.
In a desperate bid to stop him, Ivory took a deep breath and looked into Lucian's eyes, searching for any glimmer of recognition, any hint of the man she loved. She understood the meaning of that hunger now - the primal urge that drove him to claim her. With a choked voice, she pleaded, "Please Lucian!"
Despite the danger, Ivory couldn't ignore the way Lucian and his family had taken her in, showering her with love and respect. She had found a sense of belonging, a feeling she had craved her entire life. She liked Lucian, the way he cared for her, the way he anticipated her needs. And in that moment, she hoped against hope that behind this monstrous power, her husband still lurked, the man who may not love her but definitely cared for her.
As if in response to her plea, Lucian's eyes flickered, his gaze clearing. He looked into Ivory's tearful eyes, his expression softening. He took her in his arms, holding her close as he whispered softly, "Why?" The question hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the mysteries still shrouding their relationship.
Ivory stepped back, her eyes wide with a mix of fear, curiosity, and trepidation, and looked at Lucian as if seeing him for the first time, her gaze scrutinizing every feature, every contour of his face. "Are you... really a vampire?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, the words trembling on her lips like a leaf in an autumn breeze. The question hung in the air, heavy with implications, like a challenge, a gauntlet thrown.
Lucian's gaze seemed to bore into her soul, his eyes piercing, like two glittering shards of ice, as he took a deep, cold breath, the sound echoing through the silence like a death knell. "What did you see?" he countered, his voice low and measured, like a judge weighing evidence, his tone calculating, as if assessing her knowledge, her understanding.
Ivory's initial instinct was to retort that she had asked the question first and therefore deserved an answer, her pride and frustration simmering just below the surface. But something in Lucian's demeanor stayed her tongue—a flicker of uncertainty, a glimmer of fear, perhaps—that gave her pause. Instead, she shook her head, her mind racing with the revelations she had uncovered, like a maze of twisting corridors and dark secrets.
"I saw the statue of the goddess Nyx and the god Erebus," she began, her words tumbling out in a rush, like a pent-up flood, her voice barely above a whisper. "I saw the strange red wine that everyone drinks except me, and then I read the history related to it in books." Her eyes locked onto Lucian's, searching for any sign of deception, any hint of dishonesty, her gaze burning with intensity.
"Now tell me," she continued, her voice firm, resolute, like a demand, a challenge, "is it true that the Blackwood family is vampires, and the ones who made them vampires are the same ancient gods and goddesses?" The question was a test, a trial by fire, and Ivory's heart pounded in her chest like a drum as she waited for Lucian's response, her very existence hanging in the balance.
Lucian nodded solemnly, his eyes locked onto Ivory's, as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to their bedroom. He gently set her down on the bed, his hands cradling hers, his touch warm and reassuring. "Yes, my lady," he began, his voice low and husky, "we are vampires. We worship the goddess Nyx and the god Erebus, and the red wine we drink is not wine at all, but blood, refined to last an eternity." His gaze bore into hers, his eyes burning with intensity. "We are hunters, Ivory. Predators of the night."
As he spoke, Lucian's eyes seemed to cloud, his thoughts drifting to the moon outside, its silvery light casting an ethereal glow on the room. "I didn't want you to know all this so soon," he confessed, his voice laced with regret. "When I kissed you on our wedding day, I sensed your innocence and your purity. According to our rules, I had to claim you within three days of our vows. But seeing your fear, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I wanted you to be ready to choose me willingly, not by force."
Lucian's gaze snapped back to Ivory's, his eyes searching hers. "Your fragrance intoxicates me, Ivory. It's why I've been coming home late at night. I didn't want to succumb to my nature and take you without your consent. But... I've started loving you, truly. Last night, I saw you watching Sophia and Dylan, and I longed to show you the real heaven, to take you to heights you've never known." His voice dropped to a whisper. "But I didn't want to scare you with my intensity, my ability."
With a deep breath, Lucian concluded, "I've told you everything, Ivory. Now, do what you will." The vulnerability in his eyes was palpable; his heart lay bare before her.
Ivory rose from the bed, her movements slow and deliberate. She came close to Lucian, her arms wrapping around him from behind, her embrace warm and gentle. Lucian had bared his soul to her and shared his deepest secrets. But could she reciprocate and reveal her own truth?