Vampire's Veil Of Obsession-Chapter 59: Forbidden Taste

Lilia's eyes fluttered open as a dull ache throbbed in her head. A bright light burned against her vision, making her wince as she struggled to adjust. Everything felt hazy, her thoughts sluggish, but one name rushed into her mind with alarming urgency.

Zethan.

Where was he?

A surge of panic jolted through her, overriding the pain in her head. She sat up too quickly, a wave of dizziness hitting her, but she forced herself to focus. This wasn't her room. It wasn't the mansion. It wasn't Zethan's room. Her breath hitched as her gaze darted across the unfamiliar surroundings.

The walls were a soft ivory, the air thick with the sterile scent of antiseptic and something floral. The furniture gleamed under the fluorescent lighting—sleek, polished, luxurious.

This wasn't just any hospital. No, it was something much more extravagant.

Her throat tightened. Fear crept into her bones, making her shiver.

'Where was Zethan?'

She shut her eyes, trying to recall the last thing she remembered. Images flickered in her mind—his face, his intense eyes. But then came the blood. So much blood. His body had been cold yet steady, his arms around her as though shielding her from the world. But then...

Nothing.

Lilia's fingers trembled as they reached for the IV needle embedded in her hand. She didn't hesitate. With a sharp tug, she yanked it out, ignoring the sting as blood welled at the spot. The pain was nothing compared to the frantic pounding in her chest.

She had to find him.

Her legs wobbled as she swung them over the bed. The hospital gown she wore barely registered in her mind. Her body felt weak, unsteady, but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was him.

With slow, unsteady steps, she staggered toward the door. Her fingers curled around the handle, and she took a shaky breath.

_

Zethan stood in the hallway, his arms folded as he listened to Lucas. The man's expression mirrored his own—serious, unreadable.

"I don't think this was planned recently, boss," Lucas said, his voice firm.

Zethan didn't respond immediately. His jaw tensed, his mind already racing ahead.

Lucas continued, his gaze unwavering. "We'll need to keep a watchful eye on the young miss. If you had been the only one there, it wouldn't have been a problem—you can handle yourself. But now, with her involved, we need to tighten security. It's a huge risk. Now that she's here, they have a new target."

Zethan let out a slow breath, his fingers curling slightly. He had already thought about this. The moment Lilia was pulled into this, everything had shifted.

Lucas was right.

And Zethan hated it.

He was about to respond when something hit him.

A scent.

Sweet. Soft. Warm.

His breath faltered, his lips parting slightly. His muscles tensed in immediate unease.

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Why did this feel so familiar?

His sharp gaze flickered. The pull was overwhelming—strong, insistent. It clawed at him, demanding attention, demanding something deeper.

Even Lucas stiffened beside him, his body going rigid.

Zethan clenched his teeth, forcing his expression to remain impassive.

"Get out," he ordered calmly, his voice low but absolute.

Lucas hesitated only for a second before bowing his head and stepping away. He didn't argue. He didn't question it.

Because even he had felt it.

Zethan exhaled slowly, willing himself to stay composed. But his control was slipping.

And he knew exactly why.

That scent. That maddening, intoxicating scent.

And if it was affecting him, then how the hell was Lucas supposed to handle it?

He had sent him away for that very reason. No matter how calm he had appeared, Zethan knew he was barely holding himself together.

Yet...

Why did he feel like he didn't want this feeling to belong to anyone else?

That thought—dangerous and possessive—slid into his mind before he could stop it.

No.

He swallowed hard, his body betraying him as the scent grew stronger. He hoped—it wasn't what he thought it was.

Because if it was, then everything was about to change.

And he wasn't sure he was ready for that.

But then, he turned.

And there she was.

Lilia stood at the end of the hallway, her lips trembling, her expression unreadable. Relief flooded her face the moment their eyes met.

Zethan's breath caught.

Shit.

She shouldn't have stepped out. If he had known, he wouldn't have left the room.

And then—his gaze dropped to her hand.

The IV was gone. Blood trickled down her delicate fingers, staining her pale skin.

So that was the scent.

His body tensed, realization crashing into him.

This sweet, undeniable, maddening scent... It belonged to his wife.

For a brief moment, his vision blurred. His eyes flickered pitch black before he forced them shut, blinking rapidly.

What the hell was happening to him?

Without another thought, he moved.

His strides were faster than usual, closing the distance between them in seconds. Before Lilia could open her mouth, he was in front of her.

And then—he scooped her into his arms.

Lilia gasped softly, caught off guard, but she didn't resist. She was too stunned to react.

Zethan turned to a passing staff member, his voice sharp. "Clean that up."

It wasn't a request. It was an order.

The woman nodded immediately, not daring to question him.

As he carried Lilia back into the room, his grip tightened slightly.

"Lilia," he murmured.

Her eyes widened. Only then did she realize—the blood.

Zethan cursed under his breath, his jaw clenching. "Why did you leave?"

She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. "I was worried. Why are you...?"

Her gaze flickered up to his forehead, searching for any sign of injury. Nothing. He looked perfectly fine.

But how?

She remembered the blood. The sheer amount of it. He should have been lying in bed, just like her. Weak. Recovering. Yet here he was—unbothered, unaffected.

Zethan exhaled sharply, his gaze darkening.

"Why did you do that?" His voice was quiet but firm. "Do you have any idea how risky that was?"

His grip tightened slightly, his fingers pressing against her skin. "Why would you stand? Why would you even try?"

She swallowed, her heart pounding.

"You weren't feeling well," he continued, his voice sharper now. "You shouldn't have stood. You should have called for help—there's a button right beside the bed. Why, Lilia?"

She knew Zethan rarely called her by name. But why did it feel like he only did now because he was annoyed?

His arms still cradled her as if she were fragile. As if he was afraid to let go.

Lilia's lips parted, but before she could speak, something in Zethan's gaze shifted.

A flicker of red.

It was sharp. Unmistakable.

Something inside him snapped.

His focus dropped to the slow trickle of blood still running down her hand.

Without thinking—without hesitating—he leaned down.

His lips parted. His breath ghosted over her skin.

And then—

He licked the wound.

Lilia's eyes widened in pure shock.

His tongue pressed against her skin—warm, slow, deliberate. He licked away the blood with an ease that sent a shiver down her spine.

Her heart pounded.

Zethan's eyes remained shut as if he were battling something. Something primal.

Then, just as suddenly, he pulled back. His lips parted slightly, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

Lilia barely had time to react before his hand reached up—his fingers pressing gently over her eyes.

Shielding her.

Hiding what she wasn't meant to see.

Zethan exhaled.

When he opened his eyes again, one was pure red. The other was pitch black.

His body tensed, his mind forcing control over whatever was threatening to break free.

He blinked once. Twice.

And then his eyes returned to normal.

Slowly, he removed his hand from her face, only to realize she was silently crying.

His body turned rigid.

Zethan whispered, "You shouldn't have stepped out. No matter what."

He knew one thing—this blood of hers was forbidden.

Her voice was barely a rasp, weak but filled with emotion. "But I was looking for you," she choked out. "I was so worried. You were bleeding—bleeding so much—and yet you're sitting...h-here like nothing happened." Her voice cracked, tears spilling freely. "Why aren't you being checked? Why aren't you bandaged properly? Why don't you ever take care of yourself?"

Her hiccups broke through her words as her fingers curled weakly.

Zethan's hand, still resting against her wound, pressed down slightly. He didn't mean to. It was instinct.

Lilia winced, her body tensing, and Zethan turned to her in surprise.

His voice softened. "I'm healed, Lilia. Please don't take such risks."

She shook her head stubbornly. "No, you're not. I saw the blood. There was too much."

Zethan leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"My wife, your..."

His vision blurred slightly, his senses still intoxicated by the lingering taste of his wife's blood. It was maddening—an instinctual call he shouldn't be responding to, yet he was.

"You... shouldn't have done that," Lilia murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Zethan's lips curved into a slow, knowing smile.

"You don't have to worry," he said smoothly. "Saliva is one of the best ways to stop bleeding."

Lilia opened her mouth to argue. "But there was so much—"

"Shh..." Zethan cut her off.

His gaze locked onto hers.

"You're my wife."

She stared at him—her eyes wide in surprise, her lips trembling slightly. She stammered, "Your... your... your eyes."

The moment he spoke, he became aware that one of his eyes remained its normal color, while the other had turned red. Her gaze widened even more.

Zethan immediately lifted his hand, covering her face again, before he leaned in, pressing his lips against her neck.