My Vampire Husband Thought I Was Jealous, but I Was Dying
I was the daughter of a human noble house, and I married the man I'd fallen for at first sight: Adrian, heir to the vampire Prince.
Adrian was unfailingly gentle with me. Every wedding anniversary, jewelry arrived at my door.
Everyone said I was the luckiest woman alive.
What they didn't know was that on our wedding night, Adrian told me not to let myself hope for anything from him.
The anniversary gifts were chosen by his assistant. He never once celebrated with me.
In ten years of marriage, Adrian went through more lovers than I could count.
Every time, I was the one who wrote the check and dismissed the women he'd grown tired of.
This time, I cleaned up after him as usual.
That night, he wrapped his arms around me from behind, buried his face in my shoulder, and murmured his praise.
“Elena, I always knew you were the sensible one.”
I gave a faint smile and slipped out of his arms.
“I can do you one last favor.”
“Let's get a divorce.”
The gentle smile stayed on his lips. Only his eyes went cold for the space of a breath.
“Don't be like this. I'll spend more time with you these next few days.”
When I turned my face away, Adrian assumed I was slipping back into my old self.
I would weep, demanding to know why he couldn't even try to love me.
But he didn't know. This time was different.
I was dying, and soon I'd be leaving him for good.