Living in Valcoria was really taking a toll on Yin's health. He had forced himself to come up with a routine in the weeks since his unwilling bride had taken up residence in his mansion.
He woke before dawn—old habits from centuries of survival and spent the early hours in his study, managing the various business ventures that kept his position secure in this modern age.
Blood, thankfully, could be procured discreetly through certain medical channels, eliminating the messier way of his nature.
Though Irene's beet juice prank had been... inconvenient.
He found himself thinking about her more than was wise. Last night in the library had been a mistake—allowing himself to be drawn in by her genuine curiosity, her sharp mind, the way her face lit up when she finally understood a concept. He'd revealed too much, answered questions he should have deflected.
