61: 61 This or That (AVOT)

61 This or That (AVOT)

Daisy sought distraction from her inner turmoil by indulging in the cold beverage she had been served, along with the breakfast she had skipped earlier. She hoped that filling her stomach would help quench her other appetites, but the lingering sensation of Rhain's touch still haunted her body, and the seductive timbre of his voice echoed in her head.

She sighed, glancing towards the door through which Rhain had disappeared with Tiberius. She had no idea how long his business would take. It could be hours, and impatience was gnawing at her. To her surprise, just as she finished her breakfast, Rhain returned with Tiberius, quicker than she had anticipated.

Rising from her seat, Daisy immediately noticed a change in Rhain's eyes. Gone were the warm, burning amber hues, replaced by cold, hollow gold. They were also tinged with red around the edges, as if he had rubbed them too hard or sustained an injury. "We shall go," he announced tersely.

Tiberius offered her a courteous smile. "I hope the breakfast was to your liking."

"It was," she responded, approaching them. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"It is my pleasure." He inclined his head respectfully.

Bidding Tiberius farewell, Rhain led the way to the carriage, his steps hurried and his silence unsettling. An aura of gloom seemed to surround him, instilling a sense of apprehension in Daisy. Once outside, he assisted her into the carriage, and they set off.

His demeanor remained disconcerting, his face etched with an expression she couldn't quite decipher. Was it discomfort? Pain? Agony? He looked pallid, almost as though afflicted with fever or nausea. 

Though he sat perfectly still, his face an impassive mask, she could sense his suffering. Perhaps it was the tension in his features or a subtle tremor in his eyes.

What had happened?

Rhain's gaze was fixed on the world beyond the carriage window, lost in thought, until Daisy could no longer bear the heavy silence.

"Rhain," she called softly.

He turned to her abruptly, as if she had roused him from a reverie. "Yes?"

"What is wrong?" she inquired, her voice tinged with concern.

He studied her for a long moment before swallowing hard. "Nothing." The word seemed to catch in his throat, almost as if he had choked on it.

A strange feeling washed over her, a realization that Rhain was not one to complain or share his worries.

"You can tell me," she almost whispered, her voice gentle and encouraging.

He continued to gaze into her eyes, a profound emotion welling within them that made her heart ache. Then he looked away. "Business is not going well," he said.

It was a lie! And intuition told her that he yearned to tell her the truth, to unburden his soul, but something was holding him back.

Moved by his evident distress, Daisy shifted to sit beside him, taking his gloved hand in hers. She frowned, recalling that he hadn't been wearing gloves earlier. 

Wanting to feel his touch, she took off his gloves just as he tried to pull his hand away. 

Her heart leaped to her throat when Rhain's glove slipped off to reveal blood-stained skin. She grasped his hand urgently, ignoring the way her own gloves became soiled as she examined the punctures that marred his palm, holes that seemed to go straight through.

"Rhain!" she exclaimed, horrified. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

His jaw tightened, and he attempted to pull his hand away, but she held fast, her grip firm. "No one," he said, his voice strained.

"What do you mean no one?!" she demanded.

He sighed, a weariness in his eyes. "It's just me, Daisy. My claws. I was a bit careless." He forced a smile that did nothing to alleviate her concern.

Careless? He had holes in his hand! "Why aren't they healing?"

He shrugged, his demeanor dismissive. "Self-inflicted wounds don't heal so easily."

She frowned, her mind reeling. "Why did you do this to yourself?"

He chuckled, a hollow sound. "It's nothing, Daisy. I get carried away when concentrating." His tone was light, but his eyes told a different story.

Daisy's gaze searched his face, her brow furrowed with worry. Rhain's nausea seemed to worsen, and he fought back a grimace, a constant ache gnawing at his chest. 

He was trapped between a desire to confide in her and the knowledge that he couldn't reveal the truth. How could he tell her that she was sought by hunters and vampires alike? To do so would mean explaining what she was, opening her mind to certain vampires who could extract the information and hurt her, Lysander being one of them.

The mere thought sent chills down Rhain's spine. He had seen Lysander in action; kind to him, yes, but merciless with others. Memories surfaced of the day Lysander decided to punish Renata.

He had wanted to punish those who hurt Rhain, but Rhain had told him he sought no revenge, so Lysander had refrained. Until Renata.

When Rhain was turned into a vampire, Renata reentered his life, determined to pursue him. She had always spoken of his potential as a vampire lover, and now that he was one, she sought him out. But Rhain had vowed to never allow himself to be exploited again, and he made it clear to those around him. He would not let anyone close unless he wanted them there. No one could touch him unless he initiated it, and he detested anyone who took the liberty to lay a hand on him, especially since many wanted to. It made him recoil inside. 

Renata, however, was persistent in her pursuit of him, and when he made it clear she would never have a chance and he wasn't the least interested, she began spreading rumors about him. Rumors of how he was only the good lover that he was because she had taught him while he was human. He had been her little slave. 

But there was one thing she didn't know about him. Rumors affected him little. People's opinions meant nothing to him, and that only made her more desperate. Lysander, however, didn't take the matter well. 

Lysander had invited Renata to dinner, where he made her kneel on all fours like a dog beside his feet while he casually dined with his guests. He even gifted her a collar with a chain and then asked her to bark. Rumor had it that she barked the entire night before he sent her home, still crawling on all fours, to live with that humiliation for the rest of her life. After a few days, she left, never to be seen again.

Rhain had been stunned to hear what happened. Lysander had never seemed to care about rumors before. People had spread all kinds of stories about their relationship, and he had never once sought to punish someone.

"You didn't have to do that," Rhain had told him.

"I know. It wasn't for me. It was a lesson for you, Rhain. You are a Blackthorne now. Politeness doesn't mean people can treat you as they like. You need to set examples."

"Indeed. Why don't you let me decide what examples I want to set? I would assume the Blackthornes don't get their hands dirty, nor are they offended by simple rumors. That would mean we actually paid attention to them and cared."

Lysander had tilted his head, smiling impressively. "Perhaps I got a little carried away. It happens now and then." He had said nonchalantly. 

No, Rhain knew what had really happened. Lysander enjoyed inciting fear not only in humans but also in vampires. Every so often, he liked to remind them who he was.

Rhain's gaze drifted back to Daisy. How was he supposed to protect her from this ancient vampire? Lysander could crush most vampires with a mere flick of his hand, and Rhain had no desire to fight him. The man had seen him, understood him, all those years. He was the savior that didn't exist.

A bitter chuckle threatened to escape his lips. He could only hope that if Lysander ever found out about Daisy, he would take Rhain's side. But that was too much of a risk. He should take Daisy away from here. Keeping her close to him would only make the hunters more suspicious, especially since they knew about his brother. He was directly attracting danger to her.

Tiberius had been right. Well, except for the part where Rhain would forget Daisy. That could only happen if he ceased to exist.

Daisy's warm hands stroked his cold one. "You are very cold," she murmured, her voice filled with worry. "Your hands are like ice." She tried to rub them, her concern deepening.

The way of the vampires was such that the heart hardened further, and blood flow stopped entirely when they were in pain. It was a mechanism to reduce the suffering—to maintain a dead body. After all, a dead person could not feel.

"I am alright, Daisy," Rhain assured her, and it wasn't a complete falsehood. He was probably alright now that she was still by his side. The real pain would come later, when he would have to let go of yet another person in his life. 

First his father, then his mother, then Roy, and now Daisy. He was meant for loneliness. Lysander was right then. Had he foreseen his destiny?

"Let me see," she insisted, reaching for his other hand. He recoiled inwardly, not wanting her to witness more of his injuries. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw the punctures there as well, and Rhain knew that with his heart in its current stony state, healing would take longer. "Rhain," she breathed, her touch gentle and warm, her eyes filled with pain.

He wondered what she would look like if she saw him as he had once been—young and beaten, every inch of him covered in bruises. Those times when pain and cold were unbearable, when he could feel every throb of agony. These small wounds were nothing in comparison.

"Bad habit. Like biting nails," he mustered in the lightest tone he could manage. "We don't feel much, so we have more extreme habits."

"This is not a good habit," she protested, her eyes continuing to probe, not believing his attempt to trivialize the matter. "And why are you so cold?"

"You are warm," he almost sighed as she continued to rub his hand. He leaned sideways against the backrest. "Warm me."

He didn't expect much from the words that just slipped out, so when she leaned in and kissed him, he was surprised.

Her lips met his in a tentative and exploratory kiss. It was slow and gentle at first, as if she was testing the waters, gauging his reaction. Rhain allowed her to lead, her lips were soft and warm, and the taste of her was soothing. 

Her hold on his hands tightened as she deepened the kiss and then parted her lips for him, inviting him to explore further, having learned what he liked to do to her. 

Rhain responded, gently sucking and stroking her tongue with his. She moaned softly against his mouth, and she moved closer, pressing her mouth harder against his. 

He sensed her arousal, the scent reaching him and slowly awakening his dormant heart. Blood began to course through his veins, filling him with heat and chasing away the cold.

With his heart beating, his lungs drew breath, breathing as a human would, intensifying her sweet scent of arousal with every inhalation. Then, abruptly, she pulled away, her eyes wide and confused, yet filled with a wonderment that mirrored his own. 

She studied his face and then looked down at his hands in hers. Rhain's wounds were healing, and the color was returning to his skin. "Your wounds are… healing," she breathed, the words barely more than a whisper. "And… you are warm now."

"How could I not be?" he replied, shifting his hold on her hand, now cradling her hand and stroking her knuckles.

"We are going to get your mother," he said, abruptly changing the subject, as if he understood she would continue prying. She was still puzzled over why he had looked so pale earlier. What had truly bothered him? "I thought she could stay with us for a while. You wanted to see her."

She frowned, withdrawing her hands from his grip. "You will bring her because you don't want me to leave the house." The accusation lingered in the air. He couldn't just keep her confined forever.

"I just thought instead of a one-time visit, she could stay for a few days," he responded, his voice measured.

She shook her head. "With everything that's going on, it's not really an ideal time for her to stay with us."

"Do we still have a problem that we need to solve by yelling?" he asked, his tone almost teasing. "I think we can talk like adults."

"And you won't be chasing me with my mother there," she added, mockingly to his tease. "We are adults." 

He just looked at her, then averted his eyes, seemingly unwilling to engage in another argument.

"You could just say no, you know," she said, annoyance creeping into her voice.

"No," he replied, his tone flat.

She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Don't just parrot my words! I want honesty from you."

"No, Daisy, you don't," he countered, his voice eerily calm. "You long to hear specific affirmations and anticipate my alignment with them, even when my feelings diverge."

She was struck by his words, her head already shaking in refusal. "No…" she stammered. "I really do want you to be honest."

His eyes met hers, his expression solemn. "Then ask," he challenged. "Ask the question you really want to know."

Her mind raced. What question was that?

"You… care about me."

"That barely sounds like a question, probably because the answer is evident. You know it, but you don't want to believe it yet."

She swallowed hard, her emotions a whirlwind. "You said I was food." She countered. 

"That's not a lie. And I asked if I should care for my food. It was a rhetorical question, Daisy. One for you to think about."

So he asked her to prove a point? 

"But you said afterward… that you were just replenishing me." Her voice broke, frustration overtaking her.

Rhain shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping. "Daisy, that was an obvious lie, partly said out of sheer frustration. I didn't even care to disguise it and you knew it for what it was. But while you did challenge it, you let it slide soon after. Recognizing it as the lie it was would force you to confront a more complex reality."

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "That isn't accurate."

"Isn't it? You're torn between two possibilities: either I truly care, or I'm some repugnant, perverse being thriving on your fear. You yearn for clarity—a singular truth. Am I mistaken?"

Daisy's breath caught as she grappled for words, feeling suddenly stripped bare.

Rhain's voice softened, the calmness now tinged with a melancholy she hadn't detected before. "I've referred to you as my wife, far more than I've referred to you as prey. Yet, in your eyes, it must be one or the other. I've never declared you solely my prey or renounced you as my wife. But you pine for a clear delineation, asking the same questions, yearning for a singular answer."

His tone wasn't accusatory. It was as if he was stating facts that he seemed to have accepted as unchangeable.

"I can cloak myself in deceit for you, Daisy. Maintain the facade of the 'caring' husband you initially perceived, and pretend that there isn't another side to me, a darker one. But you…" he locked eyes with her, raw emotion evident, "You have awakened a certain greed in me. The desire for you to recognize every facet of my being. That 'caring' man is but a shard of my essence. I don't want to be liked for a certain reason that pleases someone anymore. Not with you."

He was tired of it. The constant molding of himself into the protective brother, the dutiful son, the perfect heir. Now he wanted to be Rhain, unburdened by guilt, no longer suppressing who he was. If he yearned to move forward, he had to do so as a whole person, not just a collection of roles. 

Tears threatened in Daisy's eyes as she looked down, the conflict within her as evident as it was painful. He hated it. It was part of why he hadn't told her! He didn't want her to feel guilty about it. He knew how that felt, to force a feeling that wasn't there because not having it made one feel ashamed, and bad. She was still confused, and he didn't want her to feel bad about it. 

"Daisy," He gently cupped her face. "I'm not laying blame on you. I understand, and I did lie to you." He reminded her that she had reasons to dislike him. She wasn't the bad one among them. 

Now she frowned, and he felt like he had to explain this as well.  "I didn't start with noble intentions, but I have grown to care for you, even if you struggle to reconcile that with the other part of me."

The part that had reveled in her fear. But right now, all she could see was the caring husband. Indeed, it was difficult to reconcile both. 

"Well..." she began, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm stuck with you, so I have no choice but to reflect on this until I can reconcile it."

"You are indeed stuck with me," he said, offering her a smile, but it was tinged with a sadness she hadn't seen before.

Suddenly, guilt struck her again. She hadn't meant it that way. Before she could find the right words to explain herself, the carriage jolted to a halt. "We have arrived. Let's bring your mother."

Rhain flung the door open and stepped outside. Daisy's heart ached with the weight of their conversation, the longing to say more, to clarify and resolve, still lingering in her throat. But it seemed those words would have to wait.

He extended his hand toward her, to help her descend. Once she stepped down, he drew her close. 

"Now Daisy, don't look so sad," he murmured, pinching her chin gently. She looked up at him as his hand tenderly cupped her face. Then he leaned in and pressed his lips to her cheek in a firm kiss that sent her heart into a fluttering dance.

"Your mother might think I forced you here," he teased, his voice light, the weight of their earlier conversation momentarily forgotten.

Her lips curved into a smile. 

Hand in hand, they strolled through the lush gardens toward her mother's house. Daisy spotted a shadow moving at the window, and soon her mother was at the door, her face lighting up with a bright smile as they ascended the terrace steps.

"Oh, what a pleasant surprise," Helena exclaimed, embracing her daughter before offering Rhain a gracious nod.

"I hope we are not disturbing," Rhain replied with a courteous bow. 

"Not at all. Come inside," Helena urged, leading them into the parlor.

As Helena bustled about, offering refreshments, Daisy caught Rhain's gaze and cleared her throat. "Mother, we actually came to take you with us."

She looked between them, confused. "Why? Is something wrong? I am perfectly content here." 

Daisy knew her mother didn't want to get in her way, but really, this was Rhain's idea. 

"Rhain thought you could stay with us for a while," Daisy said. "We all could use some company." 

"Oh…" she said, looking over at Rhain. 

"It will be a pleasure to have you over, and I am usually busy at work. It will be good for Daisy to have company… if you don't mind." 

"Not at all," she said, and then, despite her best effort to hide it, her eyes lit up. Her mother must feel lonely here.

With the arrangements made, Daisy helped her mother pack, feeling Helena's watchful eye on her. "Is everything alright?" Helena asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"Yes, mother. We just want you to stay with us," Daisy reassured her. 

"You are newlyweds," She countered. "You are supposed to enjoy the alone time together." 

Daisy smiled. They did enjoy it, and more. Things her mother never would have guessed have happened and passed. Daisy wondered what her mother would think about Rhain's idea of enjoyment. 

Once they were done packing, they were back downstairs and Rhain took the chest out of her hold as they returned to the carriage. He helped them into the carriage, and then they rode off.

As the carriage moved, Daisy felt her mother's gaze on her, appraising, searching. "You look lovely," Helena finally said, her voice filled with a mother's pride.0

Daisy's cheeks burned as she remembered the reason she slipped into this dress, and she fought the urge to cover her chest. 

"Thank you," Daisy smiled, settling into the seat beside Rhain in the carriage, her mother positioned across from them. 

An awkward silence followed as they continued their journey, and it stretched and stretched. When they finally reached home, Daisy felt a palpable relief, only to see it replaced by a different sort of tension as her mother stepped out of the carriage. 

Helena's eyes widened, darting across the estate, and Daisy could see the apprehension in her gaze. Rhain's estate was indeed an imposing sight, dark and foreboding, an eerie embodiment of the man himself.

She had gotten used to it that she barely noticed it anymore, unlike her mother. The darkness had become a part of its charm. It lent the mansion an air of mystery, a thrill of danger, and a challenge to the adventurous spirit. It was a place where the ordinary rules of the world seemed suspended, where the unexpected was the norm.

Once inside, Rhain effortlessly hoisted the chest and offered to show her mother to the guestroom she would be staying in. Helena looked at her confusedly and leaned in, her voice a whisper as she questioned Daisy. "Are you two alone here?"

Ah, the servants. Daisy wasn't sure when they would return. "Yes. We wanted to be alone." 

Not we, just Rhain, she thought. 

Her mother's surprise was evident. "Do you cook for him then?"

"Uh… actually, he… cooks," Daisy admitted, grimacing. 

Helena's eyebrows shot up. "He cooks? For you?"

Daisy nodded, feeling a strange mix of pride and embarrassment.

"You can't let him do that, Daisy. He must be a busy man," her mother admonished, the words carrying the weight of a lifetime of traditional expectations.

Right. Busy chasing her.

"Take good care of him," Helena insisted, her voice gentle but firm.

"He enjoys it, mother. I'm not forcing him to cook," Daisy defended herself. 

"I hope he is not feeding you too," Helena added. 

Daisy's cheeks warmed. She wouldn't be surprised if he did. 

"Although…" Helena's voice trailed off, her expression softening. "That can be romantic." She smiled. 

They followed Rhain into the guest room, his movements elegant and efficient as he placed the chest in one corner. "This room has a fireplace. It can get cold at night. I hope it is to your liking," he said. 

Helena's eyes swept the room, taking in the elegant furnishings, the rich fabrics, and the subtle touches that spoke of Rhain's thoughtful attention to detail. "It is perfect," she declared, her voice warm and appreciative.

"I'll leave you two alone," he said, excusing himself. He closed the door behind him. 

Helena hurried to put her hair up and remove her gloves, making herself more comfortable. "Well, now that I am here, I shall make you both lunch." She said. 

How perfect for her Vampire husband, Daisy thought sarcastically. What would Rhain do now? 

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