Vampire's Veil Of Obsession-Chapter 161: Books

Rose’s eyes widened as she managed to whisper, "Please don’t," just before the door began to push open. Then, suddenly, it stopped. She let out a shaky sigh of relief as she heard retreating footsteps. Her racing heart began to calm, though her arms—still wrapped tightly around her chest—tensed even more.

She didn’t want to imagine what would’ve happened if he had come in... especially since she was completely naked. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She quickly turned off the tap and poured the necessary soaps into the water, watching them swirl before stepping into the tub. As she slid into the warmth, she dipped her hair in, submerging her face and letting the water soak into her scalp.

The dye began to lift.

She had her reasons for coloring her hair. It wasn’t a lie—at least, that’s what she told herself. She did it for a reason. Now, as the dye bled away, her natural black hair slowly reemerged, reaching down to her shoulders. Carefully, she kept rinsing until all traces of the blonde were gone, then wrapped her damp hair into a bun and began to wash up.

After she was done, she stepped out and dried her hair with a towel, eyes locking on her reflection in the mirror. Her dark hair framed her face now, and it struck her—how different she looked. How different she felt. Blonde made her look like someone else. This... this was her.

She let down the bun, letting the black strands fall freely before slipping into the robe. As she stepped out and quietly closed the door behind her, her body froze.

"Roselina."

Her heart skipped a beat. No one had to tell her—that was his voice.

His Highness.

What was he doing here? She had thought he’d gone. She heard footsteps retreating. She knew she heard them.

Slowly, cautiously, she turned. And there he was.

Zethan, sitting casually atop her bed.

His eyes widened slightly, clearly caught off guard—by her appearance, most likely. Her real hair. The version of herself she rarely showed anyone.

Rose’s lips parted, then closed again—no words would come. Her throat tightened, thoughts scrambled, and yet all she could do was stare.

To her surprise, Zethan turned and stood. Without saying a word, he began walking toward her.

Rose still stood there, frozen. Her body refused to move—or perhaps it was more accurate to say she no longer had control over it. Her mind went blank, her breath caught in her throat as Zethan finally stopped right in front of her.

He said nothing at first.

Then, slowly, he reached out, his fingers gently lifting her chin. His eyes scanned her face—deep and unreadable—before trailing to her hair. He touched it lightly, his fingers brushing the dark strands that now framed her features.

"This is your hair?" he asked softly.

Rose gave a small nod, unsure of what he was thinking—what he would say next.

To her surprise, he murmured quietly, "It’s beautiful."

Her breath hitched. She hadn’t expected that. Not from him. Her body stilled, the weight of his words sinking in, lingering longer than they should have.

Zethan stepped closer, reaching out with deliberate care. He held a strand of her hair between his fingers, letting the inky blackness slip through them like silk—and that was when Rose finally froze.

She bit her lower lip.

Someone had just called her hair beautiful. That word... it wasn’t one she had ever associated with it. Growing up, all she’d heard were whispers. Rumors. Accusations. People claimed her hair was too black, too glossy under the moonlight—unnatural. They said she was a witch. A cursed child who should never have been born. The village had whispered it often enough that even her father, once defiant, had eventually warned her never to step beyond the cottage after nightfall.

But now... the king found it beautiful.

Her lips pressed together, trembling slightly. She didn’t know why—but something inside her chest softened, warmed. It made her want to hide and be seen all at once.

She took a small step back, instinctively creating space, but Zethan gently tilted her chin up again, urging her to meet his gaze.

"Don’t you like it?" he asked quietly.

Rose shook her head—but not in refusal. "It’s not that I don’t like it," she whispered. "It’s just..." Her voice trailed off as she looked down, unsure of how to say what she felt.

And no one—not even Zethan—seemed to understand just how difficult this kind of conversation was for her.

And finally, Zethan understood.

This was why—when the first drizzle had started—she had been so quick, almost desperate, to get back inside the castle. Now, the pieces began to fall into place.

He glanced out the window. Her curtains were drawn slightly apart, just enough for him to see the sky. It had deepened into a stormy gray, the clouds rumbling louder with every passing second. Rain lashed against the panes, heavier now, wild and unrelenting.

And then Rose remembered.

In all the chaos—the hair, the conversation, his presence—she had completely forgotten that she was still only wearing a robe. Her cheeks burned with sudden realization, and her hands instinctively tugged the fabric tighter around her.

"Please... turn around," she said softly, barely above a whisper.

Zethan chuckled, the sound low, almost disbelieving. "Turn around?" he echoed, raising a brow. "Why should I? I’m your husband. It’s fine. I’ll only look, not touch."

"You are unbelievable," she murmured.

Zethan then spoke after a pause.

"Wear something simple."

Rose blinked, confused. Before she could ask what that meant, he clarified.

"No need to wear the heavy gown. Wear something light."

She looked at him, eyes narrowing, as he added, "You don’t have to worry," he said calmly. "I won’t be leaving this room until tomorrow—unless it’s an emergency. I’ll be staying with you tonight."

Her heart fluttered. She knew it was late afternoon, but the clouds were so dark, so heavy, it felt like night. If you fell asleep and woke up again, you’d never believe it was still the same day. So... were they really going to spend the rest of the day together here in her chambers?

Something inside her sparked at the thought—warm and confusing and kind of nice.

But then... what did he mean by "something simple"?

Before she could question it, Zethan reached out and gently tilted her chin, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Oh, you naughty little girl," he said in a teasing murmur.

She frowned, confused. "Is there something wrong?"

He chuckled. "Nothing is wrong."

"And food?" she asked softly.

Zethan stared at her in disbelief. So all this was because of food?

"It’ll be brought to your chambers," he replied. "You don’t have to worry about a thing, you naughty bunny."

She noticed the heat rising to her cheeks again and turned her head slightly, muttering under her breath, "Who said I’m thinking something naughty? It’s you who’s thinking something naughty for thinking I am thinking that... Your Highness."

Zethan raised a brow, smirking. "Ah, I see. Trying to seduce me in that cute little robe of yours, huh?"

Her eyes widened. Was this king even real? He was shameless.

And then it hit her.

She had just called him Your Highness.

Her stomach dropped a little.

He had warned her: if she ever called him Your Highness when they were alone... it meant she was the one seducing him.

She bit her lip hard, suddenly flustered.

Zethan leaned in slightly, eyes dancing with amusement. "Go on then," he said quietly, stepping back just enough. "Go change. I have no problem with it, by the way. I thought you were experienced."

Rose shook her head.

"I’m not," she said sincerely.

She couldn’t believe it.

He had actually used that moment—that word—to figure out the truth. And she’d walked right into it.

This man... this king... he really knew how to read between the lines.

And just like that, her cover was blown.

Then he raised her chin again, his voice lower now. "Then how do you know such things?"

Rose inhaled sharply, her heart pounding against her chest. She clutched the robe tighter; it threatened to slip with even the slightest pull. She could practically feel how little it covered her. That alone made her nerves dance.

"I..read books," she muttered, barely audible.

He tilted his head, nodding. "Ah, I see."

Then, just like that, he turned away—graciously, gently.

She let out a slow breath of relief and walked to the wardrobe, her thoughts still spiraling. Simple, he’d said. Something simple, she reminded herself.

And there it was—a long, puffy nightgown. It fell gracefully to the floor, conservative yet soft, with sleeves that hugged her wrists and fabric that whispered against her skin. It was the best she could find. She slipped into it and tied her hair into a loose bun. It wasn’t perfect, but at least she felt covered. Safer.

When she stepped out, she hesitated, surprised to see that Zethan still hadn’t turned. He had waited for her.

’Surprisingly gentle’ she thought again.

"I’m done," she said quietly, her voice a bit steadier now.

Instead of turning, he moved toward the bookshelf in the corner of her room. His fingers glided over the spines, and then—he pulled one out.

"Show me your skill," he murmured, almost to himself.

Her heart jumped.

No one needed to tell her what kind of book that was. The dark red cover, the gold-lined pages—it was unmistakably mature.

"Huh...?" was all she could whisper as he walked back to the bed and sat down.

Then his voice came again—deep, soft, velvety. "Bunny, come here."

Her cheeks flamed instantly. Why does he say that? Rose, calm down, he’s just calling you.

Still, her feet moved before she could protest. Slowly, cautiously, she walked toward him. Just as she reached the edge of the bed, his warm hands found hers, gently pulling her down.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as he guided her effortlessly between his legs, her back pressing lightly against his chest. His scent—rich and dark—wrapped around her like silk. It was disarming.

He placed the book across her lap.

"Read for me, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath brushing her ear.

Her hands trembled slightly. "I... I’ll read one Chapter. Only one," she whispered.

"Suit yourself, sweetie."

That word. That tone. She tried to control her breathing. Just one Chapter. That’s all.

She looked down at the title.

"Zylan’s Possession," she read softly, eyes wide. Even the name gave her chills.

Focus, Rose... she scolded herself as she opened to the first page.

But the first line was enough to make her entire body freeze:

"Open those legs for me, darling."

Her breath hitched.

She hadn’t even finished the sentence out loud—but Zethan’s low chuckle behind her made it clear he had read along.

"Go ahead. While you read, I’ll practice."