The Bound Princess (Dark Romance)

Chapter 49

Emma

I woke up with a jolt, sitting upright on the bed. My heart hammered against my ribcage. My chest heaved from my heavy breathing. My clothes stuck to my skin from how heavily I was sweating.

A nightmare.

It was just a nightmare.

No matter how much I tried to convince myself that it was only a nightmare, my body trembled like a dried leaf. The dream had been so vivid that, for a moment, I thought it was real. The dread that I experienced in my nightmare still turned my blood cold.

I rubbed my hands over my face and took deep breaths to calm my frantic heartbeat. The disgust and loathing I felt in the dream were raw, and even the intensity of Dawood's hate was unimaginable. I had no idea how I would survive if it were the reality. Even the thought of Dawood hating me to that extent was enough to stop my breath. I knew he was hurt that I met Hamza behind his back, but I couldn't understand why didn't he listen to me. Why didnt Dawood let me explain once?

What made Dawood act the way he did? Why my actions triggered him to the extent that he didn't even bother to hear my side of the story? Even if he waited for my consent and waited until I didn't tell him to claim me, I couldn't help but notice how hurt and upset he was.

There would have been no point of return for us if Dawood had forced me. I didn't think I could have forgiven him if he had taken me against my will.

I loved Dawood with all my heart. But forgiving would not have been an option if Dawood had taken my virginity against my will. I shouldn't have met Hamza, but it was necessary to let him know I didn't love him anymore. Hamza would have kept approaching me again and again if he thought I still loved him.

I doubt I even loved him because what I felt for him was so shallow compared to what I felt for Dawood. My feelings for Dawood consumed me, and I knew I would never be able to feel something so intense for anyone else ever again.

Dawood was mad at me, and I had no clue how I would clean up the mess I made. How could I convince him I only loved him and no one else? I had fantasized about our first-time countless times after he left for Istanbul, but never in my worst nightmare had I ever imagined it would play out the way it did. There was no love, only hurt and pain.
I wanted to blame Dawood for what happened, but I knew I was equally responsible. I just wished he had given me a chance to explain myself.

What made Dawood react so harshly? What triggered such a reaction from him? As I reflected on what transpired before I fell asleep, I realized that Dawood didn't act on anger and hurt. I missed noticing it then, but I realized there was one more emotion in Dawood's eyes other than rage, and it was fear.

He was afraid.

But what could scare Dawood Ordimez? He was one of the most intimidating men I have come across, then what could have caused the fear inside him? I raked my hair and then shook my head, trying to get rid of my thoughts.

It was sudden; I didn't sense it before, but I couldn't ignore the feeling of someone watching me. I jerked my head up, and my heart shrunk in my chest when I noticed a profile of a man settled on the armchair near my bed.

Dawood.

I could recognize him anywhere, no matter how dim the light was. I was surprised that I didn't notice him before. I could sense his gaze but couldn't see his face covered in shadows.

Dawood shifted and then leaned forward; the soft glow of the lamp on the nightstand illuminated his features. My insides coiled, seeing the contempt and coldness in his eyes.

"You wanted to know why I never call you by your name," Dawood's cold voice echoed in the eerie silence of the room, and I could feel the chill in my bones.