"If my cooking only managed to secure second place," I began with a faint, playful pout, "then who has the honour of being at the top of my husband's list?"
Theo let out a soft, knowing chuckle. "Are you sure you really want to know?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"It's... a bit embarrassing," he warned, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Don't worry," I replied, leaning in. "I think I can handle it."
A trace of playful malice crossed his features before he spoke. "The most delicious thing I have ever tasted... was you."
My jaw dropped in sheer astonishment. As the weight of his words sank in, my face twisted into a wave of visible disgust. "Did you seriously have to say something so cringeworthy and gross?"
Unfazed, Theo continued eating. "I thought it was romantic. Besides, you're the one who insisted on knowing."
My lip curled in a mix of revulsion and disbelief. "But we weren't even talking about—that. We were talking about food!"
"Haven't you heard the famous saying?" he countered, defending himself. "A true mark of a master chef is how exquisite they taste themselves."
I shifted my position, my expression turning dead serious. "That sounds like something a cannibal would say. Why is that so incredibly creepy?"
Theo shrugged with feigned innocence. "Don't look at me. It's just a proverb I heard somewhere."
I noticed the way he tried to shrink into his seat, clearly hoping I'd drop the subject. Something felt off. Pointing a sharp finger at him, I narrowed my eyes. "Don't tell me you just made that up on the spot?"
His eyelashes flickered—just a fraction of a millimetre. Had I not been scrutinising his every move, I would have missed it entirely.
His face immediately became a stone mask, devoid of all emotion. "Huh? What? How would I even invent a proverb?"
A quiet, triumphant smile spread across my lips. "You're lying. It's so obvious. You don't even realise that whenever you lie, you try to make your face perfectly expressionless while desperately forcing yourself to maintain eye contact."
In truth, I was lying too. I kept the real giveaway—the one that truly exposed his deceptions—to myself. It was a card I intended to play much later.
Suddenly—
"Ahem—!"
Theo choked on a mouthful of food, coughing violently. Once he managed to catch his breath, he looked at me, his eyes wide with genuine shock.
"I never noticed that about myself," he admitted. "How did you even catch that?"
I picked up a fork from the table, brandishing it toward him like a weapon. "Does that mean you're finally confessing?"
He took a deep breath, defeated. "Fine. You caught me. Yes, I just made it up."
"I knew it," I sighed. "You're always inventing fake quotes, even in the middle of an argument. You need a new strategy, Theo; you're playing with your cards face up."
The sound of rhythmic chewing returned, filling the sudden silence of the room.
Our conversation drifted through various trivial topics long after the plates were cleared. Despite the lightness of the subjects, I found myself genuinely enjoying the moment.
It was only when the pitch-black sky began to bleed into a faint, pale light that we realised the night had slipped away. It was time for sleep.
...
After that conversation, I sat on the edge of the bed, preparing for rest. The rhythmic sound of water droplets echoed from the bathroom.
Good grief, I thought, leaning back against the pillow. Are all women the same? How can a shower take one or two hours?
I was desperate for sleep, knowing the hunt awaited me the next day. The only reason I hadn't drifted off yet was that Sera had specifically asked me to wait for her.
I took a deep breath, trying to organise my thoughts. My Clean Energy points had hit five hundred—the absolute storage limit for my body. Anything beyond that would simply evaporate into the air.
I needed at least six hours of training. With twenty hours of the "Great Darkness" available to me, my schedule was tight.
Ten hours for the hunt. Two and a half for a nap. Six hours for training.
That left only a handful of hours for Sera. I knew she wouldn't be happy with that, but I had no choice. Not if I wanted to survive this month.
I didn't know how to tell her, but my desire for intimacy was beginning to wither under the weight of this schedule. This relentless cycle of killing and hunting was starting to drain my soul.
I just want this month to end, I sighed inwardly. I'll take a three-week break—maybe even a month.
Dark, intrusive thoughts began to seep into my exhaustion. Why am I risking everything for just one woman? Facing those beasts in the Mist Layer day after day... for what?
Just to prove I'm worthy of her?
But what has she done in return? Nothing.
And if something happens to me during these rites? She'll just move on. She'll get a divorce and continue her life. If I fail and die, it's even worse. My reward will be a few days of mourning before I'm forgotten like a folded page in an old book.
I found myself questioning the clan. Why were they so insistent on this destructive tradition? It was no wonder the youth were avoiding marriage altogether.
Between our naturally low fertility as vampires and this growing aversion to commitment, we were a race in decline. Did the clan Leader want us to go extinct? Or was he planning to make marriage mandatory next?
I fought back the rising tide of cynicism. Luckily, the sound of the bathroom door opening cut through my drifting, dark thoughts just in time.