Chapter 97: Snowflake Mischief

Ariana’s body remained frozen..she refused to turn and look at him. Zavren’s jaw flexed slightly. The irony was rich—of all things, their first mind link had to be him confessing that he killed the Vampire’s wife. He knew she’d heard him, he could tell from the way her breath trembled. It wasn’t calm like usual. He could sense her unease. "I don’t regret it, Snowflakes. I had my reasons. If I could go back in time, I would’ve made sure she died..." Zavren’s words struck a chord in Ariana’s chest. She couldn’t believe such things were coming out of this man’s mouth. Was he joking? No. The way the word death left his lips—it was bone-chilling. As if that wasn’t enough, he continued. "Even if nothing had happened that day, even if I hadn’t killed her a war was bound to happen. Dead isn’t even the right word. I wouldn’t say I killed her, because right now, she’s stuck between worlds... between life and death. So no, she’s not entirely dead. And the madness in Vrazen has only worsened—his hatred for the werewolves has deepened." Zavren’s lips curled, dark amusement flashing across his face. "Now, the only thing that can bring her back is the senerp. And we have it—at least, that’s what the Seer says. The vampires know it too." He paused, his hand reaching for her blonde hair, caressing it softly. He had struck Vrazen’s weak point that night. Vrazen was willing to end the generational war in exchange for the senerp. But that was exactly what Zavren didn’t want. In fact, he was looking forward to the upcoming war—in every possible way. So why not? "So, sweetheart... you trust me, don’t you? You know I’m not the kind to make rash decisions." He turned to look at her...only to realize Ariana wasn’t responding. Her breathing was calm, her eyes closed. He shifted slightly, and only then did it hit him—his wife was asleep. She had actually fallen asleep. And here he was, explaining himself just to make sure she didn’t misunderstand him... yet she’d dozed off. A slow chuckle escaped his lips. He couldn’t believe she was doing this again. Just as expected. He laid back, shutting his eyes as he pulled her into his embrace, inhaling her scent—and slowly drifted off to sleep. * Ariana’s eyes fluttered open as her body stirred. Her vision cleared, memories of the night before came crashing back slowly. Her eyes widened. H..Had it all been a dream? she wondered worriedly, trying to sit up. But then, an arm tightened around her—and her heart relaxed. It wasn’t a dream. It was too real to be one. His scent lingered around her, wrapped into her own, calming her soul. She turned slightly, trying to steady her breath. She didn’t want to back-face him anymore. Her eyes landed on his lashes. She stared at them closely, watching for even the slightest twitch, just to confirm if this man was faking sleep. But then she noticed something else—how pretty his lashes were. Her fingers moved, brushing over them gently. Then to his eyebrows thick, yet perfectly shaped. Her gaze drifted to his hair messy and disheveled yet even in sleep, his handsomeness seeped through. She couldn’t understand how someone could look this perfect while asleep. Meanwhile, she was sure her own hair looked like a bird’s nest. A mischievous glint lit up her eyes. Her lips curled into a sly smile as she lifted her hands toward his hair. Today, she’d make sure his hair looked like a bird’s nest too. She didn’t even know why the thought thrilled her so much—but it did. She gently ruffled his hair, determined to mess it up. But to her surprise, the silky midnight strands flowed too smoothly. Instead of looking messy, it made him look even more dreamy. She clicked her tongue in annoyance. Then a final thought struck her..She could braid it. "Heheheh..." A wicked grin spread across her lips. She made sure not to move too much, so as not to wake him—especially with his arms still wrapped tightly around her. Zavren, whose eyes were still closed, held back a smirk as he patiently waited to see what his wife was plotting. Ariana moved gently, beginning to braid his hair, twisting each section with quiet focus. One done... two done... three done... Finally, she looked at the result. Her eyes scanned her handiwork, and a smile crept onto her lips. One of the twists stuck up like an antenna, and another flopped awkwardly to the side. She could barely hold in her smile. But just then, Zavren shifted, and she quickly shut her eyes. Her smile, however, gave her away. Her cheeks were already warm. "I never knew someone could smile in their dreams," Zavren’s voice cut through the air. "A very interesting observation." That Morning voice... Her heart began to beat. Ariana opened her eyes and glared at him, but the glare quickly faded as a mischievous spark overtook it. Her smile widened, and her hand flew to her lips, trying not to show it by looking at the two ridiculous twists poking out like twigs. In that moment, she imagined him as a snowman—one where someone had plucked a stick meant for the arms and instead jabbed it into its head like devil horns. "Oh sweetheart, what did you do?" Zavren asked, raising a brow. She simply shook her head, feigning innocence she raised her shoulders and shrug like nothing was wrong at all. Zavren stood up, and Ariana waited in giddy anticipation. She knew he was headed for the bathroom mirror. She couldn’t wait for him to see himself—she could already picture his reaction when h returns. But to her surprise, he bent down and scooped her up. Her eyes widened as he slung her over his shoulder. Her hair fell over her face, and shock ran through her. ’W-What?’ "Oh sweetheart, you really need to be scolded for making your handsome husband look like a clown," he said. Ariana couldn’t hold back the smile spreading across her face. Just imagining him saying such serious words while those silly twists bobbed on his head—it was too much. Zavren walked towards the bathroom dorr with graceful ease as he stepped into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror. His eyes widened. Now he understood why she’d been laughing—this wife of his. Before Ariana could process anything.. SMACK. A soft slap landed on her behind. A gasp escaped her lips. She hadn’t seen that coming. "Getting so naughty, huh? My little Snowflake." Her face grew even warmer. Then— SMACK. Another landed on her other butt cheek. Another gasp. And as if that wasn’t enough... "How about I twist yours?" he murmured. Her eyes widened in horror. *** Back at Lady Emberg’s manor... Stephanie sucked in a breath as the maid pulled the corset straps tighter. She wondered if they planned to remove her waist entirely, because she certainly didn’t enjoy this feeling. The maid gave another tug, and Stephanie’s eyes widened. "Please... don’t pull any further. I’m going for breakfast..I need space for food," she said breathlessly. The maid nodded. "As you wish, Lady Stephanie." Today, Stephanie wore a creamy, flower-patterned dress. A soft sigh escaped her lips. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about Lord Zekel since that day. In fact, she’d dreamt of him once—and all through the next day, her cheeks had refused to cool down. So much that Lady Emberg had called for the physician, thinking she was ill and feeling under the weather. "I’ve always told you to stop wearing those thin nightgowns at night," Lady Emberg had warned her that day, her tone laced with deep worry. She needed to accept that what happened that night was nothing more than a passing moment to him. Just a pastime. But then again... Why had he called her Mrs. Zekel? Her heart skipped a beat. Calm down, Stephanie. He was just messing with your head... But... She exhaled slowly, unsure what to think anymore. Her thoughts were scattered. "Lady... Milady... Lady Stephanie..." Stephanie blinked, snapping out of her daze. The concerned maid looked at her with worry. Stephanie understood. She’d drifted off again. Not good. This was not the first time this was happening this week. "Is there a problem, Riley?" she asked gently. The maid shook her head. But it was clear she was worried—who wouldn’t be after calling her several times? "You know breakfast has already begun... and we wouldn’t want Lady Emberg more upset. She’s already complained about your lateness to the dining hall these past few days." Stephanie nodded and moved toward the door. Riley opened it, and she stepped out, quickening her pace. She knew she’d be scolded for being late—again. She rushed through the hallway and paused in front of the grand dining hall doors. Taking a few deep breaths, Breath in.... Breath Out... She finally pushed them open, bracing herself for her mother’s fury. But... none came. "Oh... this is bad," she whispered to herself, already forming excuses in her head. Her eyes stayed glued to the floor—she didn’t dare meet her mother’s gaze, already knowing the disappointment it held. "There was trouble with the straps, and I woke up late, yes, I know... but I couldn’t sleep last night and—" she began, lifting her eyes, hoping for mercy. But then— Her eyes nearly popped out of her skull. L-Lord Zekel?! W-What is he doing here?!