Chapter 76: Species
Naomi smiled softly as she curtsied, completing the final step of the dance with Zylan. The delicate fabric of her gown swished lightly against the polished floor, and the fading music left a lingering echo in the air. "It was truly a pleasure dancing with you, my dear husband," she said, her voice warm yet formal, as though she spoke from a practiced script.
Zylan’s lips twitched ever so slightly, almost forming a smile—a rare gesture that sent a flutter through Naomi’s chest. "The pleasure is mine, my dear wife. Or should I say... my little Eaglet."
The nickname caught her off guard, a playful glimmer breaking through his usual composed demeanor. Naomi’s smile deepened as a faint blush rose to her cheeks. Little Eaglet. It was oddly endearing, and though she couldn’t quite place why, it warmed her heart in a way she hadn’t expected. This husband of hers was undeniably one of a kind—intimidating yet enigmatic, distant yet capable of the smallest, softest moments that could melt her resolve.
Zylan gently led her to the nearby sofa, his large hand resting lightly on her lower back, a touch that felt both protective and commanding. "Sit here for a moment," he said, his voice steady yet tinged with an undercurrent of urgency. "I’ll be back in five minutes. I have something to attend to."
Naomi nodded obediently, folding her hands neatly in her lap as she sank onto the plush velvet seat. "Of course. I’ll be waiting," she said, her tone carefully measured.
He lingered for a moment, his piercing gaze softening as he reached out to pinch her cheek lightly. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear, before turning and striding away with his usual quiet confidence.
Naomi watched him go, her heart tugging slightly as his towering figure disappeared into the crowd. Alone now, she shifted her attention to the glittering spectacle around her—the grand ballroom, with its opulent chandeliers casting a golden glow over the elegantly dressed guests. The faint hum of conversation filled the air, mingling with the distant strains of the orchestra.
Her musings were interrupted by the approach of a waiter, balancing a silver tray laden with crystal glasses of wine. "Would you care for a drink, madam?" he asked politely, his tone smooth yet detached.
Naomi hesitated, her gaze flicking to the tray. The glistening liquid within the glasses seemed almost too inviting, but a warning bell rang in her mind. She shook her head quickly, her decision firm. "No, thank you," she replied, her voice steady but polite.
She couldn’t trust anything served in Zylan’s absence. What if something had been tampered with? A shiver ran down her spine as she recalled Rose’s warnings—her ever-watchful friend had cautioned her about the dangers lurking at grand parties like these. And then there was the waiter himself—he wasn’t the same one who had been serving earlier, a detail that set her further on edge.
Naomi’s unease deepened as a familiar voice broke through her thoughts. "Ah, I see Zylan has left you unattended," Damon drawled, his tone as smooth as silk.