Cursed To Be His Bride ✔️

Chapter Twenty: Lisa

I’d lost the desire to see the world; the pain wasn’t my enemy but had turned into a wonderful companion of mine during this journey.

It offered me something the others had denied, a lifetime company.

I was way too much uncomfortable with a throbbing back but still it was like I'd finally been granted the desired peace, like I was finally free from the restraints of life and a sweet darkness was crowding me, devouring me gradually.

The dream was like any other where I was engulfed into a nightmare but there was a glimpse of hope, a beacon to lead my way even when I wanted to run away from the world as swift as it was possible.

Only I failed to overcome my conscience that I ended up following the illuminated way.

My eyes struggled to adjust with the light making me squint before I was out of my slumber from tip to toe.

I was dreaming no more as the light was interrupting the tranquil darkness of the room through the windows hung on the wall.

The curtains did me no favor in extending my already prolonged nap.

The house seemed to have been built in the early days of twentieth century. It had the posture and screaming discipline of traditional men and women that included the plain colors of walls.

But the most striking feature of that room was I was lying on the only comfortable bed, in a house!

I'd gone unconscious so many times now that it was hard to keep track and every time I'd wake up with a throbbing head no matter how sweet my dreams were.

I perceived my grubby image in the mirror beside the bed and I stunned at my awesome reflection.

I was in a black tank top that covered down till my thighs and blue hot jeans that subtended a little below my top. My hair was loose curls and combed before my breasts and my face was lightened in high-spirits.

I was looking awesome and the scar of knife was no longer ruining my flawless skin, it was as if its presence had disappeared for good.

But then the pain . . .

I must've felt the pain 'cause of hitting the ground. I thought.

I gradually climbed out of bed and with another look of myself I rushed towards the main door.

I might’ve momentarily frozen at the picture of a throng of inhuman beings either chattering in delight or engaging in a fleeting skirmish at meters away.

My eyes didn't blink for once as I processed the danger in the near environment.

In their eyes, crimson vengeful eyes, I could perceive the hatred, anger and thirst towards my kind.

What had I gotten myself into? That backstabber, terrible excuse of a friend had brought me to a village full of bloodthirsty monsters!

My heart skipped a beat as I got in the sight of the predators.

They all gazed at me; girls glaring green-eyed and boys staring with a familiar old need. I felt more at distress than scared.

All that attention, I wasn't used to it and all of a sudden my eyes scanned the neighborhood for that one face, one particular and well-defined familiar face.

"They'll grow fond of you." I jumped at the soothing yet amused voice coming from the corners.

I recognized the voice from the early moments in the forest. He was that friend whom I’d vaguely remembered.

What had Edward called him again? Malcolm was it?

"I believe we haven't officially been introduced."