Midnight Surrender-Chapter 52 A Veil of Deception (AVOT)

The single word hung heavy in the air between them - ’care.’ It was stripped now of its companions - ’love’ and ’protect’.

"Is that what you want to ask of all? Have you not realized yet what I am?" Rhain responded, his tone heavy with frustration.

"A vampire! I know!" she shot back. "But you can care."

"Care for my food?" he replied, his words sharp like razors.

A flash of fury blazed in her eyes, and she reached out to grasp his collar. "Are you saying you don’t care?" she demanded.

"Yes. I am merely bringing you soup to replenish you," he said calmly, attempting to remove her grip from his collar. But she held on, her knuckles turning white with effort.

"You are lying," she stated, her voice barely a whisper.

He stiffened at her accusation.

"You lied about everything. It must be fun for you to lie as well," she spat.

His glare met hers, eyes locked in a battle of wills. "It is not fun!" he said, his words seeping through clenched teeth. "Lying is how I have survived and hid myself for centuries. But yes, I can lie easily and many times I can’t even distinguish between a lie and the truth. They flow from my lips just as easily. So no, it is not fun. It just is what it is."

She studied him in silence, contemplating his confession. "But the chase, the scare, it’s fun to you."

"It is. It’s more than fun."

"Even with me?"

"Mostly with you," he admitted, the words echoing around the room.

She recoiled as if struck. "You are... appalling."

He tore her hands from his collar. "Yes, I am, so stop talking about care."

Brushing her away, Rhain strode out of the room. He’d had enough of this talk of compelling. After this, if he compelled her, she would only remember the ’caring’ husband, and he was far from ready to step back into that role. But why had he played that role to begin with?

A dark chuckle slipped past his lips as the answer dawned on him. He liked being Daisy’s husband, but was he really playing a part? What was real, and what was a lie? And most importantly, what was the point in asking these questions now? The answers would only torment him.

Daisy sat alone in her room, her legs still pulled up to her chest. Her heart ached, and her mind swirled with confusion. She didn’t know how to navigate this new reality. She couldn’t comprehend why Rhain was doing this to her. He didn’t care? Everything was a lie?

’I can lie easily.’ His words echoed hauntingly in her mind. If he could lie so effortlessly, why couldn’t he have at least lied about that?

He clearly derived pleasure from more than just scaring her. Daisy glanced at the soup on the bedside table, spinach soup. She chuckled bitterly. Yes, he was indeed replenishing her. For a long time, she refused to touch it but then decided to eat it. She wouldn’t allow him the satisfaction of her starving herself, the fiend didn’t deserve it!

Taking the first sip of the soup, she paused, letting the taste linger on her tongue. She had expected some bland, watery concoction that he had hastily thrown together, but this... it was delicious. How could he make such a tasty soup? Her resentment toward him deepened even further.

As she ate, tears threatened to spill from her eyes again. It had all been too good to be true. If he had only been cold and distant instead of showing her such kindness, then she wouldn’t be this heartbroken now. The monster clearly reveled in her suffering.

She finished her soup as the rain thrummed against the windowpane and then snuggled into her bed. She felt drained, perhaps due to the blood loss and the emotional turmoil. Her head throbbed, and she closed her eyes, seeking solace in sleep. Perhaps when she woke, everything would be back to normal.

As sleep started to pull her under, a cold chill seeped into her bones. She shivered, but the encroaching sleep made her too hazy to react and she curled further into herself. Suddenly, she felt a warm blanket envelop her, and she sighed in her semi-conscious state.

Rhain.

She tried to open her eyes and saw a blurry vision of his retreating figure. Where was he going? Sleep overpowered her for a moment, providing some comfort in the warmth of the covers, but the room was still bitingly cold. She tried to open her eyes again at the sound of footsteps. Through her half-closed lids, she saw the blurred outline of Rhain carrying wood towards the hearth, where he began to light a fire.

Daisy sighed again, closing her eyes as warmth gradually filled the room. Finally, she could succumb to the embrace of sleep.

Morning light peeked through the window as Daisy woke, her head throbbing slightly. She stretched out her limbs, acutely aware of the solitude of her chambers. Her eyes landed on the dying embers in the hearth and then the empty soup bowl on the bedside table.

Her heart plummeted. It hadn’t been a nightmare. Rising from bed, she felt grubby and clammy in her sleep-worn clothes. The first order of business was to freshen up.

The cold water splashed on her skin was a soothing balm. She took her time, repeatedly dousing her face in the refreshing coolness.

Once she slipped into a new dress, Daisy was left to ponder her next steps. She felt deflated, staring blankly at her reflection. Escape was not a feasible option. Where could she go? She should have been more cautious, should have not been so trusting. A curse slipped from her lips as her anger flared anew. Of all people, she should have known better than to trust so easily.

Before tears could spring to her eyes again, she marched out of the room. The enticing aroma of coffee, eggs, and freshly baked bread wafted toward her. Her feet led her to the dining hall, where Rhain was methodically arranging cutlery on the table. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

He glanced up at her. "Good morning," he greeted.

Her heart skipped a beat. What twisted game was this? Why was he persisting in this charade?

"What are you doing?" She demanded.

"Preparing breakfast. You must be hungry."

"And you seem quite eager to feed me."

"Isn’t it romantic," he smiled, "I thought women liked such gestures."

"Yes. When they’re sincere and not from a liar."

He placed the last fork and knife on the table, studying her with a calm, unnerving intensity. How could he remain so placid? So nonchalant?

"It’s food, Daisy. Eat it or leave it. When hunger strikes, you won’t care who made it, or whether they were sincere or a liar."

Rhain turned away, disappearing from her view. Daisy watched him go, her heart hardening. He really didn’t care, yet when she looked at the food he’d prepared, her resolve wavered. He’d laid out everything meticulously, a vase of fresh roses adorning the center of the table. No, he was only doing this to confuse her.

She sat down, seeking solace in food. When overwhelmed by anger or sorrow, she often found comfort in eating. She chewed through her frustration, and swallowed down her pain, all while mentally berating Rhain with every mean name she could think of.

Suddenly, a piece of food lodged in her throat, choking her as she was gripped by thoughts of her mother and Tiberius.

She coughed, gasping for air, her hand thumping against her chest. She reached for a glass of water but found it impossible to swallow. Panic setting in, she shoved the chair back, coughing and gasping, desperate for breath.

"Daisy!"

Tears burned her eyes as she weakly reached out. Rhain was at her side in an instant, pulling her to her feet and spinning her around. With a firm push to her abdomen, she expelled the obstructing morsel and sucked in a lungful of air.

Panting heavily, she regained her breath, then wrenched herself out of Rhain’s grasp. His frown deepened as he watched her. "My... my mother," she gasped out, "Tiberius, your friend, he’s a vampire too. Isn’t he?"

"Yes."

Her heart lurched.

"Your mother is in no danger," he assured her.

"He’s a vampire!"

"Yes! Are you in danger now?" he asked pointedly.

"Am I not?"

"You’re certainly not acting like it."

She paused, at a loss of words for a moment. "It’s because I don’t care anymore," she retorted. "You ruined everything. Why did you even marry me if you were going to do this?"

"You are right. I shouldn’t have. I should have let your father marry you off to Philip or some other man. You would soon see how far calling them a ’bastard’ would get you. Your ’I don’t care’ attitude would change rapidly." He retorted, a note of cold indifference creeping into his voice.

His words struck her. "Well, they wouldn’t at least take pleasure in terrifying me," she countered, even as her voice wavered. No, they wouldn’t, but they wouldn’t care about her either.

His jaw clenched. "Well, it is what I am. It is in my nature. I ... find joy in the hunt, and it sustains me," he uttered.

Daisy’s brows furrowed in confusion and apprehension.

"I relish fear," he declared, stepping closer to her. "The smell of it, the sound of a heart fluttering as if trying to escape its cage, the scent of sweat trickling down cold skin, even the sight of terror." He advanced slowly, an intimidating predator closing in on its prey. Daisy instinctively recoiled, backing away. "I love it! I crave it!"

Her mind raced, grappling with the stark reality. She had been viewing him through the lens of a ’normal’ husband, a human husband. But he wasn’t! He was a vampire.

She fled from his presence, seeking the solace of solitude to clear her mind. The word ’vampire’ echoed in her thoughts until she had etched it into her mind, a constant reminder of what he truly was.

But even with this acceptance, she struggled to reconcile with the deception. There had to be a reason behind his lies. If he didn’t care about her, why marry her? He could have hunted her without binding them in matrimony. Confined to her room, she wrestled with these questions, her mind spinning with various explanations.

Meanwhile, Rhain returned to the kitchen. He had almost forgotten that humans needed to feed regularly, and being in the kitchen stirred many memories he had been happy to forget. Cold winters without food or enough heat. The little he found, he would give to his brother.

He pushed the memories away. That was a long time ago and it should stay there. As he made lunch, he heard Daisy’s footsteps. She was looking for him. He braced himself for another confrontation. The woman’s fire never died.

When she finally arrived, his gaze dropped to her bare feet against the cold stone floor. Given her recent blood loss, it wasn’t wise, but perhaps the chill might temper her heated emotions.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

Rhain’s jaw flexed at her question, but he offered a curt reply. "Cooking lunch."

"For me?" she inquired.

"No. For myself," he responded, a biting note of sarcasm evident in his tone.

She maintained a steady silence, observing him before leaning against the countertop. "Do you not eat at all?" she probed further.

"No."

"But the meat..."

"I don’t consume human food. It nauseates me." Just the recollection was enough to induce queasiness.

Her gaze narrowed as she scrutinized him. "You’re truly remarkable at your deception," she remarked, but the accusation in her tone was notably subdued this time.

"I told you. It comes naturally to me."

Her eyes lingered on him as he continued working. "What are you preparing?"

"Meat."

"Purely for my consumption."

He paused before conceding, "Yes."

"To replenish me."

"Yes."

"You could just tell me to prepare it myself," she countered.

"I miss the act of cooking," he lied with ease.

"And covering me with a blanket last night," she added, undeterred by his avoidance.

"I don’t like my food cold," he teased.

"Was making love to me also a way to keep it warm?" She asked.

He paused, his hold on the knife tightening. He looked up at her. "I like the scent of arousal."

She looked baffled at him, looking like she wanted to say something but now she was the one taking a deep breath and calming down. Oh well, he wasn’t sure he liked this calm side anymore more than the fiery one.

"And you just enjoy getting married." She noted with a bitter edge. "Oh no, wait. You wanted to save me from marrying a potentially worse husband because... YOU DON’T CARE!"

His patience shattered; he hit his fist on the table and a crack echoed through the room. His gaze was a blazing inferno. "Decide, woman! Either I am a chronic liar or I am concerned for your well-being."

"Why don’t you tell me." she implored, her tone surprisingly steady. "I’m grappling to understand. You said my attitude wouldn’t survive in the company of another man. Then why are you so tolerant of it? Are you perhaps...feeling guilty?"

His face contorted, as if she had physically stabbed him. Then suddenly his gaze shifted, looking at the wall beside her.

"We have a visitor," he declared, dropping the knife onto the table with a clatter.

"Who?" she questioned.

"My adoptive father."