Camelia's breath hitched at the sight of the smirk curling on his lips.
She couldn't tell what unnerved her more, the darkness in his green eyes or the quiet warning in his voice.
Had she unknowingly dug herself a pit thrown and intentionally thrown herself into it.
"What… what do you want me to do, sir?" she asked, her fingers curling tightly around the edge of her apron.
Ian didn't answer right away. He simply watched her, his gaze unwavering, deliberate, so deliberate that every passing second seemed to stretch.
When he finally moved, it was with the kind of controlled ease that made her pulse skip.
He stood, the faint rustle of the sheet at his waist breaking the silence.
"Come here," he said, his voice low, commanding, but without hostility almost like a test.
Testing her resolve.
Camelia hesitated, her mind screaming for her to obey reason, not instinct. Yet her feet betrayed her, taking a cautious step forward, then another, still maintaining a reasonable distance between them.
The air between them thickened, the faint scent of him surrounding her warm, earthy, and intoxicating.
Her thoughts tangled in nervousness, and curiosity at the same time.
One part of her wanting to flee, another part filled with anticipation. The two feelings were a contrast to each other.
Ian tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting again.
"Good," he murmured, almost to himself. "You actually listen."
"Come closer."
Camelia took one more step forward, but stopped. If she took even a single step again, she would end up too close to him.
Seeing her refusal to come any closer, Ian grabbed her arm the next second and jerked her forward.
Her eyes widened as she came crashing into his chest.
"Just where I want you," he whispered, taking a whiff of her sweet scent.
The girl smelled like honey and milk, a scent that stirred his appetite and his desires.
Camelia tried wiggling her way out from his arms, but her efforts were fruitless, as Ian wrapped one arm around her waist.
"Sir?" she called, face buried in his chest, her small palm pushing on his torso to break free.
"Ian. Call me Ian."
Camelia raised her head to glance at the man, only to meet him staring intently at her, his green eyes piercing hers.
Her cheeks turned warm, but she could not bring herself to tear her gaze from his.
Something in the way he looked at her had her mesmerized, or maybe it was just the strange color of his eyes. She had never heard of a vampire with green eyes.
"Can I leave now, Master Ian?" she appealed softly.
Since Greta had addressed the other vampire with the title of Master, she thought it only right that she addressed him with the same respect.
"Not only a few seconds ago, you promised to do anything to make up for my precious painting you damaged," Ian said.
"I did, but—"
"Then stop trying to run away from me," he said, cutting her sentence off like the rest of it was of no import.
"This is what I want, so endure it for a few minutes," Ian said, the tone in his voice softening slightly, like he was making a request rather than a demand.
"...."
Camelia fell silent, not knowing what to respond again.
All he wanted was to hug her? she thought.
She couldn't fathom what was so special about hugging her. She wanted to just relax and endure it like he said, but how could she, when her body was pressed so tightly against his?
She held her breath again when his fingers brushed her cheek, then casually slid into her hair. There was intrigue in Ian's eyes as his fingers brushed through her silky strands, feeling the soft texture beneath his touch.
He leaned down, his warm breath fanning her face as her heart began to race again.
Was he going to kiss her? She had never been kissed before. Was she about to have her first kiss taken by a vampire?
Despite her erratic thoughts, she found herself closing her eyes as she waited for his lips to meet hers, waiting to feel if his lips were as warm as his touch.
But nothing came. Instead, she felt him remove his arms from her, and before she could open her eyes, he was already standing by the other side of the bed, his back turned to her.
"Leave," the words broke from his lips, completely devoid of warmth.
"Did I do something wrong?" Camelia asked, surprised by his sudden change in demeanor, thinking she had done something to upset him.
"Are you deaf, little whore? Don't make me repeat myself!" His voice was harder this time, even icier than before.
Camelia flinched at the coldness in his tone. She immediately bowed her head, apologizing.
"I'm sorry, Master Ian," she said, her eyes beginning to burn hot.
She turned around, taking the mop bucket and broom in haste, her hands shaking as she left the room.
The moment she stepped out and shut the door, hot streams of tears began to pour from her eyes uncontrollably.
To be humiliated like this. She had received worse insults before, but this one stung more, cutting her deeper, sharper.
She tried her best not to sob like a little child as she made her way down the hallway, but she couldn't stop her tears from falling down her cheeks.
Her vision blurred with tears, but she kept walking, afraid that if she stopped, the weight in her chest would crush her. Every breath burned as the memory of his words replayed in her head.
Did he really just tease and make her heart pound so hard because of him, only to call her a whore?
"That green-eyed bastard," she muttered under her breath as she descended the stairs, unaware of the woman standing at the foot of the steps watching her.
"Haha…"
Camelia's head snapped up, startled by the sudden chuckle. Her eyes widened in fear when she saw the female vampire standing just a few steps away, laughing softly.
There was no doubt the woman had heard her insult, and it wasn't hard to guess who it was aimed at.
"You're a bold one," Ayria remarked, pausing from her laughter.
"I—" Camelia started to apologize, but Ayria lifted a hand, stopping her.
"There's no need to explain yourself. I'm quite certain he did something to deserve the insult," Ayria said.
Camelia pressed her lips together, unsure whether to relax or stay tense.
"I'm Ayria, and your name is Camelia, right?" Ayria asked.
Camelia nodded, still speechless.
"We should chat later," Ayria said. "I'll let you get back to your work for now." She stepped aside, letting Camelia pass.
Camelia slipped past her nervously, not daring to look back.
"Hmm, I might already like her," Ayria murmured, her warm crimson eyes following Camelia with gentle affection, as if she were a long-lost friend.
Lucas suddenly materialized beside his wife.
"Was turning invisible really necessary?" he asked, a frown creasing his brow.
They had just been heading upstairs when they saw the girl, and for whatever reason, his wife had commanded him to vanish.
Ayria giggled at the look on his face.
"Silly you, of course it was. The girl was already upset and crying. Seeing you would've only frightened her."
Lucas scoffed at her response.
"I don't trust her," he muttered, eyes on the corridor where Camelia had vanished.
No, it wasn't the girl he didn't trust. It was Alpha Caden. They'd sent the same girl his brother had shown interest in. It all felt like a carefully laid trap for Ian.