"You are so precious," he said, bending over for a kiss, but I turned my head away, instinctively. Even without looking at his expression, puzzlement resurfaced on his face as he drew his head away.

I cleared my throat as I faced him squarely. "Let's go back first," I said with a faint exhale. "I didn't misunderstand, but you're not pardoned for leaving me in the middle of the night to see another woman."

"Oh," He intoned. "Then, let's go back."

Sam grabbed my hand and dragged me towards our chamber. I hastened my pace to keep up with him, glancing at his shoulders. It surprised me how he agreed so easily, but why was he so in a rush?

"Wait, my water!" I exclaimed, shifting my eyes to the water spilling out of the glass. Sam only glanced at me and said nothing, but he surprisingly decreased his speed until we reached our destination.

As we headed in, Sam finally let my hand go before he trudged across the room. I observed him while I placed the glass down on the bedside. Sam had been like this for the past half a year; our relationship was stagnant, although there were times he could be surprisingly considerate and lenient just like a moment ago.

When I perched on the edge of the bed, I glanced at him, only to see him pouring himself a glass of wine. Sam had been drinking a lot lately, be it day or night, he'd always finish a bottle. Although he never got to where he'd be drunk, wasted, he was never sober as well.

"Sam," I called out softly, and he cocked his head back in my direction. "Do you need my blood?" I asked, recalling that it had been around five months since he stopped drinking my blood and I only realized it now.

Sam fluttered his eyes ever so slowly before he walked towards the chair. He dragged it near the bed, plopping down languidly with his leg over the other.

"Don't mind what Cassara just said," He uttered with disinterest. "They're all nonsense."

"But you haven't had my blood for over five months!"

"I had nothing for centuries, my wife." He argued back almost immediately, and I frowned. "You already quench my hunger. Are you saying you want to quench my thirst as well?" Sam tilted his head to the side, batting his eyelashes with misplaced bafflement.

"Of course! I'm your wife, am I not?" wasn't that my duty? We were already busy enough with the increasing numbers of the undead and unsettling atmosphere across the land. We couldn't, no, I couldn't afford to let his guard down and lose him.

Both of us had been treading on thin ice because once everything was over, the truce would be over. A power strife was bound to occur. Even if Stefan and Sam didn't want it, the people who were eying the throne would surely do something underhanded. Working as a member of the Order made me open my eyes and see these sick earnest endeavors.

"You're my wife, so you understand the reason I am doing this." He answered in the same stern tone, rendering me with no arguments. "Five months, my wife, and I still can't understand what were you thinking."

"You mean you still can't understand yourself?" I corrected, irked by his previous argument. Of course, I knew that. He had told me clearly about his detoxification. But, was avoiding drinking blood the only method for him to retrieve his emotions?

Sam chortled briefly. "I understand myself clearly, without a shadow of a doubt."

"And what does it say?"

Silence befell us as we stared at each other briefly. Now that I thought about it, our argument had also become more frequent. Although I couldn't call it an argument, we tend to disagree on more and more things and squabble just like right now.

"Never mind." I sighed and shook my head, waving my hand as I lifted my legs up on the bed and under the quilts. "I'll rest more since I was tasked to scout Hallund tomorrow." I pulled the quilt up to my shoulder as I laid on my side, eyes closed. This conversation would lead to just more disappointments and prolonged arguments.

I felt like every time this happened, Sam and I just grew farther away from each other. With duties and responsibilities, not to mention our life at stake, I couldn't really focus on placating his whims.

I'm not sure the reason, but was it because I was not what I used to be? Before, all I wanted was to become a wife who would tend to my husband's needs. A happy marriage bearing his children, whom we would raise together. But now, everything was different.

Although I still wanted that kind of life and peace, I wanted to stand and stay by his side with my head held high. I wanted to protect him just as much as he wanted to protect me. Be someone he could lean on and trust in a world full of deceit and greed.

However, I felt like the more I try, the more that there was going beyond my reach. It felt saddening. Maybe that's why I could not help but argue with him sometimes.

The bed moved a little as I immediately sensed his presence beside me. Normally, he'd continue on drinking in silence until I fall asleep. This was the first time he had laid beside me after an argument, but I expected nothing more.

'A little coaxing is fine,' I thought, frowning as I knew that wouldn't happen. I kept my eyes shut closed, but my mind kept wandering to the past half a year until my eyes snapped open. 'There's really nothing special happened in the past half a year besides our routine and Sam acting nonchalant about everything.'

Sam didn't move at all when he laid on the bed. Cassara did mention he was exhausted. Out of curiosity, I discreetly turned around to see if he was sleeping, but to my surprised, he wasn't!

He was lying on his side, his knuckles propped his temple, facing me. My mouth slightly fell open — wide-eyed. Sam raised his hand and reached for my cheek, cupping my jaw, his thumb caressing it.

"Don't wander too far…" he whispered, sounding strangely gentle and sincere. "… just stay within Hell's reach."