Lydia woke from a slumber she didn’t want to end with her head pounding relentlessly. It felt like she had just laid down and gone to sleep. The light that invaded her eyes didn’t help the headache that grew more intense. Muffled voices drifted from somewhere outside her apartment.
Throwing the blanket over her head, she tried to block everything out. It didn’t stop her head from feeling like it would implode on her. When it didn’t subside, she threw off the blanket and tried to throw her legs over the edge of the bed, resulting in her legs getting caught in another blanket.
Don’t fuck with me this morning.
With a tug, she pulled the covers off her and swept her feet over the edge of the bed. She leaned forward, rubbing her forehead as it pounded at the movements; Tylenol and some greasy food were what she needed—and the bathroom.
The Hardwood floor met her feet as she stood up, sending goosebumps up her legs at the coolness. She attempted to run her hand through her curls, getting them tangled into the mess halfway through. Heaving out a sigh, she dared herself to open her eyes and figure out what kind of mess she had gotten herself into.
Cream-colored walls greeted her in an average-sized room. A door to her left that she heard voices walk by and another straight ahead. She noticed an oil lamp that sat on a table in the middle of the room. A window was by the bed with a nightstand beside it. It was decent but not extravagant. More extensive than her apartment.
It also wasn’t her room.
The only light that flooded through the room was the sun that peeked through the blind-covered window. No light fixture, no light switch. She glanced to the other side of the bed, finding it empty.
She caught sight of black peeking out from the light-colored sheets her feet were raveled in. She reached out, pulling it from under the blanket. She only remembered getting a black cloak in the weird dream she had.
There is no way any of that was real.
“Nooo,” Lydia whispered. She quickly took a step back, dropping the cloak back on the bed. A wave of dizziness took over, making her stomach threaten to spill the nothing that was in there.
When her headache became bearable again, she tried to remember anything from last night. She didn’t know who he was, but the last thing she remembered was falling asleep in a carriage as she practically called him a serial killer. She remembered being laid onto something soft, which had to have been the bed, and then nothing. She could only recall his deep voice and alluring silver eyes.
Any man like that was a force to be reckoned with. She would throw caution to the wind to feel his hands run along her skin as his eyes consumed her. She had to give it to the man. He was one of the few who didn’t take advantage of an intoxicated woman.
Her gaze caught sight of a note on the nightstand.
Cautiously, she grabbed the note. She scrunched her nose up at the elegant handwriting and the contents.
“What the… is this dude for real?”
I hope you got a good night’s sleep.
Keep the cloak. It’ll be of use to you.
Also, the clothes are for you.
Until we meet again,
–T
“Oh, you idiot, Lyd’s,” she grumbled. “Your drunk ass got you into something that you need to get out of.”
She turned the note over to see if he left anything else. It was blank.
YOU ARE READING
Ash and Fire
Fantastik*Currently being heavily edited* Chapters 1-4 are edited as previews. Marked with * When Lydia's life is threatened, she seeks guidance from those who saved her in a world she doesn't know. Not one to leave something solely to people she didn't full...
